“For now, stay on your guard. Be very careful who you trust. The hellhounds are ready and able to provide protection to all of you, but especially to the human mates as they seem to be the main targets.”

Leander glanced at Merrick. “Yes, I’d like to have someone with Merri when I can’t be.”

“Same,” Jake said, ignoring the scowl from Cane.

“Hold on,” Cane interrupted. “I can take care of myself. Also, I have a new three-hundred-year-old gargoyle friend who’s very fond of me.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Only because you practically wrote her a sonnet about her beer cheese.”

“It’s that good,” Cane said seriously to several chuckles and snorts from around the room. “All I’m saying is, maybe we should look at how we can keep everyone safe while also keeping the hellhounds on the commissioner's tail as much as possible.”

When the room all seemed to be in general assent, Lenette nodded. “Okay. Let’s figure out a game plan.”

* * *

TWO WEEKS LATER

Cane looked through the diamond pattern of the cage—a real fight cage with coated metal and a spring floor beneath his feet. He’d still chosen to fight barefoot even though he could have worn approved wrestling shoes. It just hadn’t felt right.

Jake looked steadily back at him, fingers threaded through the cage wall like he might reach in and pull Cane to the other side. But Jake would never do that unless Cane’s life was truly in danger. They protected each other, took care of each other, but he’d learned quickly that Jake would never hold him back. “You ready?” Jake asked, voice lifting enough to be heard over the music and the crowd.

The warlock Jake knew who owned a gym—Sigurd—was a big Viking of a man, and Cane wasn’t convinced that Sigurd wasn’t somehow immortal. He’d learned not to underestimate magic and the possibilities it created. Sigurd had been happy to welcome Cane into the gym and the bi-monthly fights he hosted.

“Always,” Cane answered, meeting Jake’s dark brown gaze. He gripped Jake’s fingers for a moment, his fingerless fight gloves still feeling strange on his hands. It would be nice not to have busted knuckles after every fight, though.

“Go, Cane!” Several voices yelled from the bleacher seats behind Jake. Cane looked over Jake’s shoulder. Calliope, Bell, Elara, Dom, and Maddy waved at him, yelling encouragement. He smiled and waved back.

Beside his cheering section, Derek and Hollis sat with their hands threaded together. Merrick and Leander were seated in front of the other mates. They weren’t holding hands, but Leander had at least traded in his typical suit for a dark blue sweater and a fitted leather jacket. Merrick’s wild hair was looking tamer than usual beside him, and he had a self-satisfied look on his face.

When Merrick noticed Cane looking, he lifted a hand. Cane waved back before focusing back on Jake. “This isn’t something you have to worry about, you know?”

Jake huffed, face going petulant. “You are literally in a contained space where another person’s only goal is to punch you in the face.”

Cane laughed, and it sounded joyous even to his ears. Damn, but he was happy to be mated to this man.

“I’m glad you find it so amusing,” Jake grumbled even as his lips turned up.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

Jake gave him a real smile then. His mate had a soft spot for endearments. “Kick his ass so we can go home and have victory sex.”

Cane winked at him. “Anything for my mate.”

* * *

Thank you for reading!!

A Vampire Called Leander is next!

A VAMPIRE CALLED LEANDER

MATED TO THE HUMAN #3

Copyright © 2023 by Michelle Frost

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.