Chapter 12: Alpha’s Secret: Chapter 12

Grizz

The scent of sizzling bacon hits my nose, and I jerk awake. Instantly I’m reaching for something, groping the bed beside me. Jordy. The place next to me is still warm, but my hand comes up empty. Something hits my face and I flail until I realize what it is. Rope. The one I wound around our wrists. Fuck.

I’m on my feet and halfway down the hall before I link the smell of bacon to Jordy’s absence. I hit the kitchen and brake. She’s standing in front of the stove, dressed in nothing but one of my t-shirts, frying bacon. She got free, but she stayed with me.

“Hey.” Her cheek curves in my direction and every bit of blood in me rushes to my dick. I lean against a cupboard, gritting my teeth against the demands of my morning wood.

“Did you sleep all right?” She covers the pan and turns fully to me. Her eyes snag on my erection. “Is that for me?” She colors sweetly, and padding over, drops to her knees in front of me. Her head tips back and her smile almost brings me to my knees. “Let me take care of you.”

Oh hell, yes.

She grips the base of my cock to make it jut out even further and swirls her tongue around the head.

A shudder of pleasure runs through me, striking at the base of my spine. “Fuck, Kit.” I tangle my fingers into her hair, tighten them into a fist. She lifts her eyes to mine as she takes me deep into her mouth, then down the back of her throat. I have to force myself not to think about the fucker who trained her to do this. I should be grateful because it’s the best damn blowjob of my life. Nothing compares to the feel of her swallowing me back.

I use my fist in her hair to direct her movements, pulling her on and off my cock. My thighs start to shake, balls tighten. Between her hands, lips, and clever darting tongue, I spurt into her mouth before the bacon burns.

Breakfast is good too.

“Damn, Kit, you can cook.”

She smiles down at her plate. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Fuck, yes,” I swear vehemently and she laughs. “No one’s cooked for me since…” I hesitate and her eyes fly to mine. “Since my mom,” I tell her honestly. “I haven’t even shared a meal with anyone.”

“I’m sorry.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand. I catch it and turn it over, cradling it in my rough fight-worn paws. It’s like catching a little bird. Small, soft, fragile. Unmarred.

“Me too.”

After a moment, she slips into my lap. My dick’s already responding, but I wait to see what she’ll do. Cupping my face in her hands she sets her forehead against mine. She rubs her face against mine and fuck if it doesn’t feel like absolution. The tightness in my chest eases a little.

Fates, she makes me soft.

“You eat enough?” I ask brusquely, and when she nods, I order her off my lap. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”

She doesn’t ask questions, just obeys, and I shepherd her out of my den and onto my bike.

She still doesn’t ask questions, even when I pull up to the battered black storefront with a sign in red script proclaiming “Custom Tattoos.” She hops off the bike and lets me guide her forward with my hand at her back.

“Guy here works on shifters. He did this.” I hold up my scarred arm, the one with the full sleeve. “He does all the wolf pack’s ink.” I pull her sketch book out of my jacket. “We got a few hours. Figured you could draw something and get it, if you like.”

Inside, I introduce her to Dick, the artist. Once she’s comfortable, I excuse myself. I made it clear that she doesn’t have to get anything if she doesn’t want to, but if she does, I’ll pay. I head outside to give her space. A tattoo’s a personal thing, and I’m just a guy she’s known a few days. She’ll have this ink forever.

Standing on the sidewalk, I make a few calls. One to the company that leases the theater to see if I can get any leads there. The line rings and rings. Nothing. I’ll see if Frangelico can make inquiries.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call. Declan doesn’t even say hello, just launches in. “There’s a fight tonight. Don’t forget.”

“I haven’t forgotten. Will you be there?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great. I need you to watch Kit again.”

“No worries. She’s no trouble.”

I grit my teeth. “Actually, there might be trouble. Augustine knows I took her.”

A stream of curses meets that news. “Taking from vampires. That’ll get ya killed.”

“I know. I’m working on it.”

“You’re working on getting killed?”

“No,” I snarl. “I’m working on getting her free. I wanna know who leaked news that she’s with me.”

“Damned if I know. Probably one of the shifters ya fought, wanting to get back at ya. Ya have enemies, Grizz. And vampires know how to get information. Their spies are everywhere.”

Ugh. Dead end. Declan knows nothing. “Fine. But you’re gonna help me watch Kit. She’s not going back to Augustine, and that’s final.”

Declan sighs. “Anything else?”

I tell him what I found around the truck stop and at the theater. “I need eyes on both. I’ll pay. You think you can make that happen?”

“Yeah. It’ll cost ya.”

“That’s fine. I’m good for it.” I’ll pass the bill on to Frangelico.

As if he can hear my thoughts, Declan says, “It’s dangerous, working for the vampire king.”

“I know. I wouldn’t do it unless I had to.” I must be crazy, offering up that bit of information. Hanging around Jordy has made me soft. More willing to reach out and make a connection. If I don’t get a hold of myself, I’ll be handing out friendship bracelets and getting the Stooges to braid my hair.

“I don’t know what drives a shifter to partner with a vampire,” Declan says carefully, “but I do know this. Vampires are dangerous, and the king—he’s the most dangerous of them all. You’re swimmin’ in shark-infested waters, Grizz.”

I sigh. “Don’t I know it.”

“Make sure ya don’t bleed.”

I kill a few more minutes making phone calls. I’m about to re-enter the shop and see what Jordy wants for lunch when the door opens and she comes out.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t want to get anything?”

With hesitant hands, she tugs down her shirt and shows me the bandage made of white gauze and tape above her left breast. She got something to cover up the mass of scars on her heart.

“Very good, Kit.” I hide my disappointment that I didn’t get to see it. If she wants to share, she’ll share. Not my place to know, or ask. “Vamos.”

Jordy

Grizz and I spend the day together, doing whatever we want. After a quick stop to get tacos, I tell Grizz I love his bike and he takes me on a long, meandering drive around town. His Harley circles lazily up ‘A’ Mountain—the mountain with the giant white A for University of Arizona—and we eat at the overlook. Afterward, he takes me to a small park and we walk a trail through the cacti, holding hands like a couple. Dinner is at a diner, where Grizz shocks the waitress with the amount of food he plows through.

“Gotta fight tonight,” he tells me. “Need to fuel up.”

“Is that why you took it easy today? To get ready for the fight?”

“No.” He sets down his fork and cups my cheek. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

I can’t stop beaming at him. It’s stupid and inelegant. I should play hard to get. But whenever I’m with him, it’s like a light switches on. I grin and glow and feel all warm and toasty, like I’ve swallowed a sun.

“I like seeing you happy, Kit,” he tells me.

I am happy, I want to say. But only around you.

The closer we get to nightfall, the more serious he gets. His smile slips away, fading with the light. The last rays die behind the mountains, and he stands, throwing a hundred dollar bill down on the table between the empty plates.

“Time to go.”

I hold on tight as we ride to the industrial part of town. Behind us, two more motorcycles rip onto the road and flank us, catching up to us when we stop at a red light. Grizz stiffens in my arms, but he keeps his head straight. The light turns green, and he roars away, but the two bikes follow, growling angrily. By the time we’re at the turnoff to the Fight Club, more bikes have joined us.

“Who are they?” I ask when we’re stopped again at a light.

“Wolves. Tucson pack.”

I look back and one of the bikers salutes me. A big dude, as big as Grizz. He has the phases of the moon tattooed on his knuckles. They all do.

My own tattoo itches under its bandage. It didn’t hurt too bad. I called on my submissive training, breathing deep and surrendering to the needle. The worst part was the burn of vampire blood to set the ink. I wonder if the wolves know about the vampire blood, how it’s the quickest way to make a shifter scar. Stop shifter healing in its tracks.

We park and Grizz waits until I hop off to dismount. His hand covers my back as we walk to the Fight Club door. There are groups of shifters waiting, lots of bikers and gangbanger types. I almost trip when I recognize some of the cats who attacked Grizz.

“It’s all right,” he whispers and throws his arm around my shoulders. “We’re safe tonight. The wolves won’t let anyone touch me. Not until I’m in the ring.”

Sure enough, the biker wolves are following us. By the time we get to the door, they’ve completely surrounded us. I breathe deep and will my fox not to panic. She doesn’t like being surrounded by all these predators. I’d be more scared if I wasn’t with Grizz.

Inside, the wolves fall away and Grizz leads me straight to the bar. The club is a lot nicer than I thought it’d be. The raw, reclaimed wood tables and bar, the exposed Edison bulbs, the concrete floor, even the rough pockets of shifters fit together with a sort of rugged charm.

Grizz orders and the bartender plunks down two glasses. Clinking his with mine, he tips back the shot. I sip mine and sputter.

“Sorry, Kit. Should’ve warned you.” Grizz rubs my back even as amusement glints his eye.

“That’s okay,” I cough. “I don’t drink much. You take it.”

He shoots mine back almost absently, his eyes roving around the club. “Fight’s about to start. You’re gonna sit here,” he leads me to the corner. “And keep quiet. Keep out of trouble.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be in the ring.” He definitely is amused.

I crane my neck to see beyond the clusters of shifters to the spotlit cage in the center of the warehouse. “I can’t be closer?” I can’t hide my disappointment that I’m so far away.

“No,” Grizz says gently, stroking my back. “I gotta focus. I can’t do that if I’m not sure you’re safe.”

“I’m gonna root for you,” I tell him and he dips his face close to mine.

“You sure, Kit? You’ll be the only one.”

“Yes,” I say decisively, and tug him closer for a kiss. He breaks it off first, scanning the warehouse. With so many potential threats around, he’s not able to relax. The club is full of predators. I should be all worked up, but I’m not. I bask in his protection until three familiar faces pop up behind Grizz.

“Heya, Kit. Miss us?”

“A little.” I lean in and hug Declan, then Laurie. A rumbled growl makes us jerk apart. Grizz looms over us, his eyes bright with his bear. Jealous grizzly. I almost giggle.

“It’s okay,” I say. “We’re just friends.” But Parker and I fist bump instead of hug.

“Ya ready for this?” Declan asks.

Grizz shrugs. “Ready as I’ll ever be. You got details on this fight?”

“Parker does.” Declan jerks his head to the grey-haired shifter, who nods and starts walking farther into the warehouse, towards the cage.

“I got bad news,” Grizz says to me, humor lightening his tone. “You gotta stick close to these guys for the night.”

“Bad news bear.” I mock frown.

“Yeah.” He starts to lean in for another kiss when a shadow falls over us. Grizz straightens, his face going blank.

One of the big wolves who followed us stands close by, two of his own pack behind him as backup. “Grizz.”

Grizz jerks a nod, but doesn’t look at them.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“You here to escort me to the cage?” Grizz grins, but it’s a cold, hard thing, with none of the warmth he gives to me.

The wolf shrugs. “Don’t want you to trip and fall on your way there.”

My hackles go up as the cheetahs stroll in, joining the rowdy crowd. They turn bright yellow eyes on Grizz.

“I’m touched by your concern.” Grizz straightens. “Be good,” he says to me and chucks me under the chin.

A few of the wolves look at me curiously.

“No one touches my crew,” Grizz says to the big wolf, who nods. Two of the wolves stay behind, standing a little apart from us like guards. I’d be grateful if they weren’t blocking our view.

Whoops and shouts echo around the big space. More shifters pour in through the door, crowding the bar, surrounding the cage.

“Just a few more minutes,” Laurie murmurs.

I wipe my palms on my jeans.

“He’ll be okay,” Declan says. “Grizz is the best. In fact—” A roar goes up by the cage and we all strain to see.

“Did ya catch that?” Declan asks Laurie, but the bird shifter shakes his head.

Declan hops up on his stool and swears. “Aw, shite.”

“What is it?” I push up as far as I can, but the room’s too packed with huge shifters. Their heads block my view of the cage.

“A pre-fight,” he mutters. “They want him to fight someone else first.”

“Who?” I crane my neck, then give up and stand on my stool too. Chills run up and down my body as the new fighter enters the cage. It’s the gorilla.

“Guess he’s fighting two tonight.”

“Is that allowed?”

“First rule of the Shifter Fight Club,” Declan grimaces and shakes his head.

“What is it?” I lean down and whisper to Laurie. “What’s the rule?”

“There are n-n-no rules.”

Grizz

I face the silverback who instigated the fight that led to my black out.

“You gonna fight for yourself tonight? Not get a bunch of pussies to do your dirty work?”

The gorilla’s lips peel back, showing flat, yellowed teeth. “You’re gonna bleed, Grizzly.”

“All right. No monkey business.”

The gorilla roars at me, but the crowd laughs. They don’t like me, but they like my attitude.

“Go Grizz.” Amid the jeers, a single voice cheers me on. “You can do it.”

Jordy. I’d pick her out of any crowd. There may as well be no one else here but us.

I tug off my leather jacket and wrap it to hide the flask. I hand it carefully to Parker. “Guard that.”

He nods. He knows I carry a flask, but has no idea what it contains. No one does.

I face the gorilla, shaking out my shoulders. I don’t need the juice to fight this banana brain. I can take him.

“Ready?” A wolf calls from the sidelines. I nod at him and he blows a whistle.

A foot comes out of nowhere. I barely have time to duck. The gorilla lands and whirls. I block another kick with raised forearms, staggering back under the heavyweight. The crowd whoops, loving that I got caught off guard.

I lower my arms, meeting the gorilla’s crazy eyes. The fucker is barefoot, wearing loose black gee pants. I should’ve picked it out immediately.

I shrug and roll the kinks outta my shoulders. MMA? Why the fuck not? I’m down for some karate.

Making a fist, I press it into my palm, bowing without lowering my head or dropping my gaze. The gorilla rolls his lips back again in a snarl-smile. He launches into another leap, coming at me feet first. I dodge, grab his ankle and swing him into the cage wall.

The crowd’s cheering cuts off as if someone hit a switch.

The monkey picks himself up, shakes his limbs out, and comes at me again. On all fours, like an animal. He hits my middle and we fall to the floor together. I punch his head repeatedly until he rolls away. I sit up without using my arms and rise. When he comes at me again, I duck and grab his arm at the same time, rolling him off my back into the cage wall. He bounces and rebounds—right as I kick out. Foot, meet face.

The crowd’s on its feet, hooting and howling. They sound more animal than human. Fine by me. I’m the biggest predator here. My bear surges forward. I drop to all fours, fighting the instinct to change. My mouth opens and I roar. A few shifters cover their ears. Others drop their gaze. That’s right, fuckers. Grizz is in the house.

The monkey sits up, dazed. Beyond him, outside the cage, Parker is shouting something. What is it?

“Behind you—”

The gorilla smiles. I whirl around as a big, bad bear enters the cage, shrugging out of his leather jacket, smirking at me with the biggest canines I’ve ever seen.

All around the cage, the wolves begin to howl.