Page 13 of Nicolette

Our territories were divided down the middle by the Stamson River, named after the founder of Poamald City. Four large bridges connected either side and were the only way to get across if you didn’t want to go into the main city. My people and those who had an alliance with the pride kept a close eye on the bridges. It was the fastest way to get to us if a war ever did start, so keeping tabs on movement would be our best warning.

It was an unspoken rule of sorts that neither The Broker nor myself would cross into the other’s territory if we could help it. Truthfully, there was no reason for me to ever be on this side of The Grid, but on occasion, it would happen. The Broker never left his fucking tower of a building, choosing to do all his dirty work through others. Granted, I was walking right into his castle, so to speak. There was no telling what could happen. Maybe Marco and Polo would be smart enough to get the woman out of the building, so I didn’t have to go in after them.

The ride there didn’t take us long, but I drove past the Lucky Shot and doubled back, checking to make sure the coast was clear. Killing the engines, we rolled up on the gravel parking lot so we didn’t draw too much attention to ourselves. I spotted the twins’ bikes and came to a stop beside them. Not bothering to get off my bike, I pulled out my cell and called Polo, knowing he’d answer my call no matter what.

“Oh, thank fuck you called,” Polo answered, panic evident in his tone. “Nine, we fucked up, like big time.”

My lion growled in irritation as he began to pace, furious his orders had been ignored. While I would consider myself a tough but fair leader, my lion was a tyrant. He expected his orders to be heeded the moment they were given because he was a king. I rubbed a hand over my forehead, trying to soothe the disgruntled feline I shared a mind with.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” I ordered. “Don’t leave out anything in an effort to save yourselves. You’re already in enough fucking trouble.” My words had a little more bite to them than I would have liked, but there wasn’t much I could do about it with how pissed my lion was.

“A vampire, Mortas, was feeding her his blood when we entered the room. With the help of a harpy and a dwarf, we managed to lock him in a secure room meant for Supes who can’t be trusted with the public. When I got back to Nicolette, Marco had already started trying to change her, but the vampire blood was healing the cuts he made with his claws. So he came up with the bright idea to maul her so badly to overwhelm the vampire blood and see if that would work,” Polo explained in greater detail than I’d planned, but I told him not to keep anything from me, and Polo was anything if not literal.

“Nine, she won’t stop convulsing,” Marco shouted. “It’s breaking her bones in the process.”

Fucking hell, this poor woman. I could only imagine how much pain she was in with the amount of the shifter virus they’d flooded her system with.

“When you say you mauled her…” I started, but the sound of the phone being shuffled around had me pausing.

“Look, we will explain everything in as detailed of an account as you want. Just tell us how to help her,” Marco pleaded, an edge of panic and anger coating his words.

“For starters, get her out of the fucking building before she shifts, and you have a feral shifter on your hands.” I snarled. “I’m here with Rambler and Dice next to your bikes. Get your asses out here, and I’ll work on cleaning up your fucking mess. You have no idea what you’ve done to her or the horrific pain she’s in. That alone should be reason enough for you to have fucking listened to me in the first place.”

Dead silence came from the other end of the line, and when I pulled my phone back to look, it said the call was disconnected. I shoved my phone back in my pocket, tossed my head back, and roared, letting my lion burn off some of his negative energy.

“So much for keeping a low profile,” Rambler mumbled. “The twins really fucked up this time if they got your lion that mad. I always said we were too soft on them.”

Snarling, I turned to look at him. “Not the time, asshole. They fucking mauled her, Rambler. If she’s still alive when they bring her out here, I’ll be surprised. In trying to help, they forced her to die in one of the most horrific ways possible.”

“Maybe not. This is that female fighter the crotch goblin’s been bragging about for the last few years, right?” Rambler asked, and I nodded my affirmation. “If she’s badass enough to survive this long in life-or-death matches every weekend for God knows how long, then maybe, just maybe, don’t write her off yet.”

His speech surprised me. Rambler was never one to see the glass half full. That was more Circus’s department, our happy-go-lucky road captain. Now that I thought about it, Rambler had seen the worst the world had to offer in a situation not all that dissimilar to hers. Maybe that’s what had him hoping for the best.

The sound of crunching gravel had us all swiveling to put eyes on whoever was approaching. My hand automatically went to the gun on my hip, ready for anything. Many shifters felt it was beneath them to use weapons other than what their animal provided them with, but the world was full of Supes who didn’t go down easy. A gun with silver bullets fifty yards away would give me a chance to figure out what I was dealing with before they got too close. Think smarter, not harder. It would keep you alive longer.

Polo bounded up to us, skidding to a stop and shifting back to his human form at the same time. “They’re right behind me,” he shared.

He was covered in blood, some was his, but the majority was a mixture of vampire and something else. I couldn’t pinpoint it since the scent of death and decay overwhelmed it. The normally put-together brother looked like hell, and the way Polo’s heart pounded his chest with his anxiety told me he felt like he was in hell.

“How are we going to get her back if we can’t guarantee she won’t start convulsing and shift?” Polo questioned.

I cocked my head, wondering if I should even bother to answer his question. If all they’d done was scratch her and she’d been able to transition normally, I wouldn’t be nearly as furious as I was now. The vampire blood had nothing to do with her wounds healing. The shifter virus had done it. It was one of the reasons people discovered they’d been infected only after their first shift. The virus was ensuring the body was protected, giving the best possible chance to withstand the change. Almost every other shifter species had a higher rate of success than felines did. No one knew why, but it’d been the case since the first person was infected. I’d witnessed more than a few first shifts in my lifetime, and none of them were pretty, but the worse the initial attack had been, the more painful it was for the victim.

“That would be something you’d know if you were allowed to change someone,” I quipped. “There’s a reason alphas and more powerful shifters are the ones to cause the transition and stay with the person until it’s over. We have the ability to help manage these episodes. My presence alone should be enough to get us back to the clubhouse.”

“You can’t take her to the clubhouse,” Marco snapped as he joined us. “There are far too many people and dangers, and what if someone lets it slip she’s with us?”

“The fuck?” Rambler blurted as he rose from his bike. “Have you lost your goddamn mind to speak to him like that? I should beat your ass and make you limp back to the clubhouse.”

I held out a hand, stopping him from going after Marco. The more I observed what was going on and saw the way Marco was cradling the bundle wrapped in a blanket, I was fairly sure I was right.

“Marco,” I called, adding my influence to it. “Give her to me. I will make sure she’s safe and control the convulsions until we get back. We need to go to the clubhouse, though. It’s where the medical supplies and the safe room are.”

The caracal hissed at me, hunching protectively over the woman. A cry escaped from her at the abrupt movement, which caused Marco to freeze.

“Polo, hand her to me,” I ordered. If my assumption was correct, Marco would relinquish her to his twin.

“I—”