“Nah. Jesse sent me.” I pulled the wad of cash from my pocket, the bills warm and soft from my body heat, and flashed it. “Said there’s good action here.”
His eyes lit like a matchhead at the sight of money. “Jessie Logan? He coming tonight?”
He leaned in, and that overpowering smell of wildness and fur assaulted my senses. My mind scrambled for an answer, andthe beast inside lunged forward. I blinked, and the cab seemed to sharpen. Shadows snapped into focus, every pore on his skin visible, then it was gone. Back to normal.
“Just… me tonight.”
The man’s frown shifted into a smirk. “Sure. Pull up and park. See Raven to place your bet.” His eyes flashed bright yellow before dulling again, his beast retreating like mine had earlier.
With a casual wave, he motioned for the gate. My gut dropped.
I didn’t know who the hell he was talking about, but a name was something. I’d start digging, see what kind of dirt clung to this Zeth.
Past the lights, a large building squatted low against the night, surrounded by cars, their metal shining underneath the moonlit night.
I rolled in and found a spot, the engine ticking as I cut it.
Be likable. Make connections. Show strength. Supes only respect strength.
The moment I opened the door, sounds hit me—cheers, shouts, thethudof flesh on flesh. The metallic tang of blood rode the humid night air. My wolf bristled, hackles prickling under my skin, and excitement bloomed from my chest.
Behave, I told him. I didn't want anyone to know I was freshly made. Supes were naturally suspicious, and I didn't want to spook them.
Too many mothers had been pounding on my captain’s door, swearing their kids were being dragged into these fights, cominghome bruised and broken. Supes didn’t have cops, just the Syndicate, a crime family that played by its own rules.
So the captain sent me, said keeping me after the change was “for the betterment of humanity.”
My wolf growled at that, but the captain was right. When it came to supes, you used whatever weapons you had. They were untouchable by law, protected by that damn federal treaty. In Flathead County, if we didn’t handle them ourselves, no one would, which meant we had to use whatever means possible—even a human cop who had recently turned because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Being useful was all I had left. No human cop wanted to be paired with a monster. They had made thatpainfullyclear.
The hate notes left on my desk. The way they parted around me in the hallway, backs stiff, eyes flicking anywhere but my face. The whispers, the dry hiss of my name like a curse. Their fear clung to me the way damp clothes stick to skin—heavy, cold, impossible to shake.
Even Faith, my girlfriend of two years—nowex-girlfriend—couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t standme.
The memory of her recoiling when I touched her, pupils blown wide with panic, still gutted me. She had looked at me like I was a monster. I didn’t blame her for moving out that first week after my change, but, fuck, it still ripped something out of me.
Flexing my hands, I experienced the ghostly sensation of claws shimmering just beneath the skin, ready to pop out. I could almostfeelthe weight of them, the sharp bite of air they’d slice through if I lost control.
This job was my only shot to prove I was worth something, that I wasn’t just a savage beast hidden beneath human skin. I could feel it in my bones. I could protect. I could save. That was all I’d ever wanted. To pull people out of the dark even if I had to stand in it to do so.
That thought was a steel rod down my spine as I walked toward the building looming in the night. The wood was too clean, too strong, smelling faintly of fresh-cut lumber instead of rot. The massive doors were thrown wide, spilling warm, golden light that bled into the gravel outside as if daring me to come closer.
Crossing the threshold was like stepping into a storm. Noise slammed into me—shouting, stamping feet, the metallic screech of bleachers shifting under restless bodies. The air was thick with heat and sweat, a humid press of flesh and magic. Metal stands were packed in tight rows holding countless bodies whose attention was pointed toward the dirt ring below.
I shoved my way through, the scrape of coats and rough fabric dragging across my arms, the invading breath of strangers brushing my cheek. Two fighters circled each other in the ring, their feet stirring dust into the air as the crowd howled for blood.
“Bite him, you big lug!”
“Dodge! Don’t let that right hook in!”
“Quit dancing! Give us blood!”
The beast under my skin jolted, ears pricking, eager as an unchained pup. My senses fractured under the weight of the room. A cold, stale scent like damp soil packed into a grave slid into my nose. I turned, tracking it, and found a pale man glaring at the fight, his jaw tight enough to snap, his knuckles white from grasping crumpled betting slips.
Vampire,my wolf murmured, the word curling in my head with the invasive and inescapable nature of smoke.
Then… flowers. Wild and sun-warmed, tangled with something like secrets. My gaze jerked upward. A man floated above the crowd, wings outstretched, beating the air in time with his shouted encouragement.
