Page 43

“Emmy, this is incredible,” Silas said as he and Rocco greeted the pack at the entrance to the artwork they’d created.

It had taken every spare minute they had to get this commission completed by the New Year’s Eve deadline they’d been working toward.

A piece that showed the gritty side of New Trinity City through the illegal fighting ring Marco had taken over thirteen years ago.

Tonight’s headline act was Crusher—the infamous jaguar shifter—vs Black Fang, an up-and-coming wolf shifter not associated with the Lunettis outside of the fighting ring.

For once, Emilio had been free to create an artwork that leaned into his criminal heritage that folks could walk through instead of limiting himself to videos in abandoned locations.

Between them, he and Rocco had transformed the large warehouse where the fight was being held into the nine concentric circles of hell.

Each circle was created with either bound bodies hanging from the steel rafters or people standing on pedestals as still as statues.

The only variation to the pattern was the seventh ring, violence, which comprised the fighting ring.

Most of the subjects who’d been tattooed and bound were volunteers who would walk free at the end of the night.

A few, like the bodies hanging at the room’s centre, representing the eighth and ninth rings of fraud and treachery, were already dead. Combined with the lights and paintwork, they formed a beautifully grotesque chandelier effect.

The art world would only ever see this installation by video to hide its true nature, but the supernatural inhabitants of the darkest parts of the city were able to walk through and experience it just as he’d intended.

“This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” Blaze told Rocco.

“My mate is unlike anyone who’s ever lived,” Rocco replied, looking over at him with pride.

“Would you consider helping us redecorate the bar now that the fire damage has been repaired?” Blaze asked Emilio. “Maybe minus the bodies, though.”

Emilio laughed. The request was probably as close to sweet as the Prez ever got. A level of acceptance he hadn’t expected.

“Yeah, Blaze. I’d love to.” Leaving his mark on the MC clubhouse would be another claiming of his mate. Another reminder to the club of who Rocco belonged to.

“No Kyan tonight?” Emilio asked. He’d expected the vampire coven leader to show, given both Marco and Blaze were here and with tensions running so high.

Marco frowned as he searched the room. “I can’t see any of his people.”

Weird.

As the fight time drew nearer, all Emilio’s attention was focussed on checking cameras and making sure everything was set up for the livestream.

They needed to give the viewers the full impact of the first six circles of hell they’d arranged before reaching the ring, just as the fighters would be epitomising peak violence as they came into shot.

Rocco would be controlling the cameras’ movement while Emilio edited and coordinated from a room off to the side.

Everything went smoothly as the fighters were announced and the referee’s howl broke through the space to start the match. Emilio made sure to get the howl on tape, knowing the eerie sound would only add to the threatening ambience of the piece.

Rocco’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him onto his lap as they worked in perfect synchronicity. No words were needed as Rocco responded to his body language and the feelings coming through the bond to direct the three cameras on the best route. They were the perfect complement to each other.

Emilio flicked his attention back and forth between the fight and the feed, feeling his bloodlust rising as the two shifters tore into each other with impossibly fast and skilful kicks and punches.

He'd set the cameras to a slow-motion feed for just this reason. They couldn’t risk human viewers realising something was different about the fight.

As the cameras finally reached the ring, he got a single second of footage before he felt his mate stiffen in alarm beneath him.

“Shut it off!” Rocco cried.

Emilio had already stopped the livestream by the time the last word left his lips, and they watched in horror as the wolf shifter in the ring’s eyes flashed a brilliant red.

Crusher had him pinned, but the wolf reared up with feral strength.

Fangs and talons glinted in the colourful eerie lights they’d used for the installation.

Fangs and talons that shouldn’t have been there because the fighters weren’t permitted to shift.

The jaguar shouted for the ref as he twisted away, not realising the true danger in time.

Shifters didn’t go feral often, but when they did, it was brutal and irreversible.

It usually took an Alpha to take them down.

The wolf the fighter had been facing dug his talons in tight to the jaguar’s shoulder, all but ripping his arm from his body.

Arterial blood sprayed across the faces of the watching crowd as the useless limb hung by only a few scraps of tendon and muscle.

As the feral wolf lunged to bite into the jaguar’s face, a blur of motion sped into the ring.

Marco grabbed the wolf by the jaw, arms bulging as he used both hands to stop the fighter from closing his bite.

Feral shifters might be rare, but there was a one-in-five chance a bite from one would infect the victim and pass it on.

Usually, there were enough warning signs, and they could be contained before they turned and hurt someone. Not this time.

“Submit!” Marco cried, using enough Alpha power that Emilio found himself tilting his head in submission even from the other side of the room.

It had no effect on the feral wolf. He was already too far gone. With a howl of sadness as the wolf fully shifted and tried to gut him, Marco’s arms tensed and he used pure strength to rip his jaw from his face before snapping his neck.

Silas was quick to step forward, hauling the now limp form over his shoulder and striding out of the warehouse.

Shifter healing meant the feral wolf could still recover, even from such grievous wounds.

Sai would be taking him straight to the crematorium to turn his body to ash before that could happen. They couldn’t risk it spreading.

“What the fuck?” Rocco whispered, holding him close as the crowd stared on in shock.

Marco was barking orders into his phone as he used his fingers to pinch the jaguar’s artery closed and stop him bleeding out on the floor. The fighter was a shifter, so he’d survive, but if they didn’t get someone there to fix that arm in a hurry, he would lose it, shifter healing or not.

Breathing in deep, Emilio focussed on the reassuring presence of his mate. “We need to secure the area. This has got to be another D-2S strike.”

“I’ll get shielding up that will alert us if they try and send the Police our way again,” Rocco said.

“I’ve sent our guys to check on the sentries, and I’m waiting on a call back from the chief of police,” Blaze said.

Emilio was so distracted he’d barely noticed the MC Prez approaching, or maybe he’d just subconsciously categorised him as pack and therefore safe. He could figure it out later.

“I’ll save the video to our secured cloud so we can review it later.”

The sound of a police siren cut through the air, and Emilio stood so his mate could go do his thing to make it look like there was nothing to see or do here.

Rocco pressed a kiss to his mouth as he passed, linking their fingers and pulling him outside with him so they could get a better vantage to distract the cops with his magic.

Drawing the blades he never went without, Emilio positioned himself at Rocco’s back, just in case, but he wasn’t really worried about the human authorities. He was more worried about how someone had managed to let a near-feral wolf loose at a fight.

“Don’t worry, puppy. I’ll send them down the road to the next warehouse. They won’t even know we’re here. No blades necessary.”

“You’re a menace,” Emilio said.

“You love it.”

“I really do.”

“You can show me how much later.”

Emilio’s lips twitched up in a smile. Whatever this latest threat was, they’d face it together. With their pack and the MC by their sides.

This city was finally home for them. No one was going to drive them away.