Does Wei have a personal problem with Scott? Why hasn’t he mentioned it before? What in heaven’s name is going on?
Scott was either unaware or uncaring of the danger he was in.
“Sure are you, that you want to risk your life for money?” Scooping some banknotes, Scott threw them in Wei’s face.
Glory’s breath caught at the insult, but Wei’s grim expression did not alter.
“I don’t want money. Only a boon,” he stated.
“What kind of boon?” Scott sneered.
“One within your power to give. Assuming you are not afraid to fight me.” Wei paused. “If you win—”
“When I win, I’ll have the satisfaction of knocking that smug expression from your goddamned face,” Scott snarled.
“Wolf! Wolf!”
The crowd’s chanting grew deafening, drowning out the rest of the exchange.
But Scott made his intentions clear by putting up his fists. “Get ready to be pounded into a fare-thee-well.”
Removing his coat, Wei tossed it aside and shifted into horse stance. To the uninformed eye, the posture might not look like much, but Glory knew her shifu’s power. He was grounded and strong, his thighs rooted like tree trunks. Years of practice, of relentless self-discipline had every one of his honed muscles at his command.
Scott charged, and Wei blocked his swing easily. Scott came again, and this time Wei not only parried but redirected the momentum of the attack to send Scott sprawling. His movement was so smooth, so lightning quick that Scott looked stunned as he picked himself up. Then the Wolf’s face contorted with rage, and in that moment, Glory knew her shifu had already won.
Scott charged at Wei, who this time stopped the other’s fist with his palm. Scott tried to pull free from Wei’s grip, and with a look of shock, discovered he could not. With a bellow, he threw a punch with his other hand, only to find that fist trapped by Wei as well. With breath-stopping power, Wei spun and flipped Scott over his head, the movement as fluid as water.
The audience let out a collective gasp as the gang leader landed on his back with a thud.
Nervously, Glory noted that Scott’s guards were closing in on the cage. A half-dozen men, their hands on their weapons, prepared to intervene. She looked at Fi and Livy. She drew out one of her flasks; they nodded, doing the same. With that wordless communication, she knew they were ready to act on her signal.
Scott staggered to his feet, sputtering, “You’re going to pay for that, you bugger.”
Wei said nothing as he sank into a crouch, the weight balanced on his back leg while his front leg pointed straight out. He held out a hand, bending his fingers in a beckoning gesture.
With a snarl, Scott charged at him. Wei sprang into the air with an athleticism that made Glory’s heart thump with wonder. His kick caught Scott in the jaw, the power of it sending the latter flying backward into the side of the cage. A second later, Wei was there, his hand around Scott’s throat, pinning the gang leader to the bars.
She swallowed at the bloody murder in Wei’s eyes.
Nineteen
The roaring crowd faded to nothing. Wei’s focus was only on his purpose.
He tightened his grip on Scott’s throat.
“Give me my boon,” he said.
“Wh-what the bloody hell do you want?” Scott snarled between gasps.
“Answers.” Wei was cold inside—as cold as the vengeance that his instincts told him was finally within reach. “Another man bears the same tattoo as you. He would be in his forties or thereabouts. Pale eyes. Do you know him?”
As the question left Wei, he already knew the answer. Felt it in Scott’s compulsive swallow, the widening of the other’s gaze.
He knows. Wei felt an icy blast of triumph. He knows the man who killed my family.
“Go bugger yourself,” Scott gritted out. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
Scott struck out. Parrying the flailing fists was child’s play.
