Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Zee pushed his hands out, holding Musashi back. "I see you're upset?—"

Musashi took another swing, coming at Zee from a different angle. Zee scooted back, grabbed a passing server's almost empty tray of little cakes, sending the tiny morsels flying, and raised the tray as a shield. The commissioner's next punch slammed into the metal, ringing the tray like a cymbal. He yelped, then growled.

Zee winced. "Fuck. That sounded painful."

This was bad. And getting worse. Zee hadn't done anything wrong, but the commissioner clearly believed otherwise. Someone needed to stop this before one of them really did get hurt. But who? Nobody was coming over. Everyone stared. Even the staff had stopped serving to gawk.

Was nobody going to break up?—

Oh wait, that person was me.

I dropped my napkin and stood. "Commissioner, let's be reason?—"

"You!" Musashi bellowed, thrusting his good hand with its finger pointed at Zee. "How did you get in? Who invited you?"

Zee glanced at me. I shook my head. Don't say it, don't say it ? —

"Your wife?" Zee asked.

Musashi roared and flew at Zee like a man possessed. Zee was more than capable of handling one angry human, but scrapping with the police commissioner in public wasn't going to help our admittedly flimsy and probably terrible reputations. This had to end now, before it got out of control. I lunged, grabbed Musashi by the shoulders and hauled him off Zee. But in the man's rage, he twisted and flung a punch. The blow hit me square in the jaw, popping my lip like a grape. Pain burst down my chin. Blood dribbled.

I gasped and reeled, more shocked than hurt.

"You made Kitten bleed ?" Zee's wings unfurled, his veins glowed, and he went from charming, playful, well-dressed demon to snarling, badass warrior in less than two seconds flat. "Now you're fucked." His already sharp teeth seemed to get even sharper behind his snarl. His tail whipped and snapped.

If Zee hurt Musashi, he'd be the one prosecuted.

I lunged between them, held Zee back with a hand on his chest and gave the commissioner a tiny shove. Just enough to see him off. Or so I thought. Musashi flew back and toppled into a table, knocking it and its contents flying but leaving the startled guests still seated.

The entire restaurant fell silent.

I may have used a smidge too much strength.

Oops.

Musashi lay on the floor among broken plates.

Was he alive? Had I killed him? Oh dear, this was exactly the kind of mess we were supposed to be avoiding .

Zee straightened beside me, and brushed down his suit. "Fuck that guy."

Musashi groaned, and I let out a breath. For a second there, I thought maybe I'd killed the San Francisco Police Commissioner. Not quite as bad as killing a vampire queen, but close enough to make me sweat.

"Ladies, Lost Ones, and gentlemen!" a disembodied male voice announced through speakers dotted around the warehouse. "Bravo to the demon and his date. But let's keep all the fights inside the ring tonight, alright folks?"

Titters and polite laughs eased the tension.

Wait . . . Fights . . . What?

I turned to Zee. "What ring?" The words had barely left my lips when the curtain in the middle of the warehouse fell and a blast of floodlights illuminated a raised, roped-off stage. Not a stage... A boxing ring.

Banners around the sides said the event was sponsored by Brink Security and Cain Developments. Oh... that could not be good.

Zee pushed on my shoulder, guiding me back to our table, where we dropped back into our seats and hunkered down.

"I think we got away with it," he mumbled.

I glanced back to where some people were helping Musashi to his feet, his rage subsided for now. Everyone was more interested in the show about to start than the brief scuffle.

"What is this?" I asked, squinting toward the ring with its bright lights.

" The stage is set, your bets placed. Everyone put your hands, tails, and miscellaneous appendages together to welcome our warriors to the ring!"

The crowd cheered, drawing Zee's glare and mine. His puzzled frown was not a happy one. "Don't know, Kitten."

"Can I see the tickets? "

He reached into his jacket pocket and handed over two slips of thick card.

Last Man Standing. Dine & Fight Club.

BY EXCLUSIVE INVITATION ONLY.

"Zee, it clearly says fight club."

"I thought that was a human thing. You know, eat nice food in fancy clothes and wrestle?"

"I don't think that's an anyone thing, Zee."

"How am I supposed to know? The only rich person I know is His Fucking Lordship, and he chases naked men through the woods." Zee tilted his head, turning curious. "We really need to revisit that conversation."

I handed the invitations back. We were here now. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad?

"Let's welcome everyone's favorites, Fairy Fists of Fury and the Rockslide Ravager, as they fight for your viewing pleasure!"

That sounded okay. Maybe. "Let's just keep our heads down and get through?—"

"To the death!"

Dread swooped through my insides. Oh. Not so okay. Maybe the announcer didn't mean dead death. Maybe they just meant pretend death? Like those entertaining wrestling matches that were more theatrics than actual fighting.

"Loser leaves in a casket!"

Okay. Fine. Someone was going to die while we all sat around and ate canapes.

I liked mindless violence just as much as the next dragon, but this felt wrong in my bones, especially considering the paid sponsors.

Zee's gaze flicked from the ring to my face and back again. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking? "

"If it's something along the lines of not letting anyone die for entertainment, then maybe?"

He frowned, then shrugged. "What? Yeah. Right. Of course I was thinking that ." He shrugged and gave his wings a little tick.

"Zee, how are you thinking about dicks now ?"

"I was not thinking about dicks. I just happened to wonder if they might be naked? You gotta admit, it would be fucking entertaining."

He wasn't wrong. "Yeah, okay, it would."

The audience clapped with enthusiasm. The two participants, one a fae—Fairy Fists I guessed—and the other a stocky troll who must have been Rockslide, were an unlikely sparring pair. The fae was twice the troll's height, but probably half his weight. Fae weren't known for their battle prowess, given their lithe frames. Maybe he had some anger issues to work out? Trolls, however, could absolutely scrap, although they preferred bartering to physical fights. Or so the Wilson's Guide said. But why would either of them agree to a fight to the death in front of people?

Shirtless, they sort of looked ready to fight, but the unease squirming inside me wasn't dissipating.

"This feels wrong," I said.

As the fighters climbed the ropes into the ring, I eyed the advertising banners. Cain Developments wasn't a surprise. Gideon Cain probably had his thick sorcerer fingers in all of San Francisco's suspicious pies. But Brink Security? I'd seen that name before, and recently.

"Nobody has a gun to their heads," Zee said, scooping up his wine.

"Zee, c'mon, you think they're doing this because they want to kill each other?"

"Maybe they got beef? Most trolls are assholes. And fae. Most people, actually. Some guy nearly ran me down in traffic just the other day. You can't say you didn't see all this , amiright? I'd fight him. Asshole."

"Isn't it better to discuss disagreements in private?"

The two fighters danced around each other in the ring, getting riled up. The floodlights lit them up like players on a stage. The audience watched, ate their food and drank their wine, chatting away as though this was just entertainment. The announcer explained there would be three rounds, with a break after the second if both fighters were still standing.

It was all very... ick. And I knew ick. I liked ick. Sometimes.

"Wait..." Zee had seen me looking around and narrowed his eyes, trying to pin me with his glare. "I know that Adam Vex expression."

I frowned.

"Is this a pets-in-pies scenario?"

"I mean . . . not exactly, but also . . . kinda, maybe?"

"Are we gonna do some Chosen One shit?" Excitement made his eyes glow. "Ooh, is this part of the prophecy?" His pupils got real big. "Wait, wait, how does it go... saving Lost Ones from the dark, or something? Ugh, I should know this. It was practically the warrior mantra before everything went to shit?—"

"What? No . . . I just . . . Someone should do something, don't you think?"

"And that someone is you. Got it." His grin grew and he held up both thumbs, nails gleaming. "I'm here for it. Let's do this." He cracked his knuckles. "We about to make fucking history."

He was so ready to dive right in and save people, but we didn't even know they needed saving yet? "I don't know that it's like that. It's just?—"

The troll took a swing at the fae and missed by a mile. The fae, in response, tried to kick the troll, but appeared to have the balance of a human toddler, and managed to teeter then knock themselves down.

Zee cringed. "Ugh, this is painful, for all the wrong reasons."

The troll leaped onto the fae's back and stayed there, as the fae got to his feet and commenced jogging around the ring.

Zee grimaced, looking away. "I'm fuckin' embarrassed for them."

Some of the audience booed , but most didn't seem to notice or care that the fight was even more painful than it should have been.

Zee twisted in his seat and eyed me. "Maybe our destiny is to kill them and put them out of their misery?"

"I don't think destiny has anything to do with whatever this is." But Gideon Cain did. And maybe his name on the banners was half the reason I wanted to disrupt whatever was happening here.

The fae still jogged in a circle, with the troll on his back trying and failing to choke him. I almost couldn't watch, and had to peek through my fingers to see if either of them had made any progress.

"There's no chance of either of them killing anyone," Zee grumbled, disgruntled by the lackluster performance. "You're right, this isn't entertainment, it's a fucking crime against showmanship. I got more flair in my left horn than this sham."

Round one ended with neither fighter having landed anything resembling a punch. Even the fight between Zee and the police commissioner had been more entertaining. The announcer tried to inject some excitement into the event, but almost everyone had lost interest—until they mentioned that bladed weapons were now permitted.

Zee's interest perked up while my unease returned. After this round, there would be a break. We'd go out the back then and see if we could smuggle the two fighters out before anyone noticed. They clearly had no idea what they'd gotten themselves into.

Round two went about as well as the first, but with more stabbing gestures. The fae held his short-sword awkwardly, probably having never held one before. The troll had a stubby dagger, but neither of them seemed to know what to do with their weapons. They danced around each other, making wildly inaccurate stabs that were never going to land.

Zee slumped in his chair. "If I have to watch another second of this, I might die."

"At least nobody is dying. That's good, right?"

"I'm dying inside."

I grinned at his joke and caught his ticking smirk. It didn't matter where we went or what we got embroiled in, as long as we were together everything turned out okay. He made the worst moments the best.

Zee leaned across the table. "You wanna get out of here and have filthy, sweaty sex against a graffiti-riddled wall? Maybe in the shadows of an underpass? Sounds like fun, right?"

"Do you have to ask?"

A few screams bubbled up, and Zee and I both stared at the ring. The troll had managed to open a deep slash in the fae's thigh. The fae grabbed at the wound, then lifted his trembling, bloodied hand into the light as though only now realizing he'd been cut.

"Maybe hold that thought," I told Zee.

"Yeah. Looks like shit's about to get real."

The bell chimed, and the referee climbed in to separate the two now they looked as though they did actually intend to murder each other. The curtain came down and the announcer declared they'd be back for the final, deathly round in fifteen minutes.

"Wanna go and Adam Vex the shit out of this?" Zee asked.

"Unfortunately, I think we have to." Nobody else was rushing to stop the show.

The servers streamed from "backstage" with mountains of fancy food to keep the guests entertained. During the kerfuffle we abandoned our table and hurried toward a back doorway the staff had been using.

"What's with the cables?" Zee mumbled, hopping over two thick-as-my-forearm cables running from beneath the boxing ring and out the door. Zee was right. What was up with the cables? They looked like the sort that carried an enormous electric load, but nothing in the boxing ring needed power.

"Maybe left over from whatever this warehouse stores?"

The cables passed through the doorway and veered left on the other side, then ran around the perimeter of a floodlit yard bustling with catering staff. Shiny trailers formed a large semicircle where most of the catering activity was happening.

"Imma go see."

"Wait, Zee?! There's no..." He'd hurried off, tail vanishing behind a restroom trailer.

I could have left him, but splitting up was always a bad idea. Those were Zee's own words. I followed his boot prints on the dusty warehouse floor, and found him next to some kind of bulky thing that was hidden under a tarpaulin and stood as tall as he did. A weirdly mechanical sound chugged from under the tarp. "Wanna take a look?" he asked, pinching the tarp.

"We probably shouldn't?—"

He flipped the tarp off, and revealed a barrel-like machine with multiple cables plugged into it and some kind of dispensing tray. Weirdly, the tray was full of glittery beads, each about the size of a dime.

"Are those bath beads?" Zee tilted his head.

Whatever those things were, it was probably best to leave them well alone. "Maybe we should?—"

He picked up a shiny bead and squeezed it, making it bulge. "Squishy." Then gave it a sniff. "Strawberries."

"Don't eat that."

"Eat it? Why the fuck would I—" He cut himself off and reconsidered his answer. "Okay, yeah, I was gonna eat it."

A clang sounded in one of the trailers and a shout rang out, spooking my rattling nerves. I hunkered down and checked around the site. Nobody was coming over—yet. But the intermission ended soon. We needed to hurry. "Let's go find the fighters," I told him.

"Right. Sure." He tugged the tarp back over the bead machine and we hurried on, leaving the strange contraption to chug and thump to itself. Whatever it was for, we didn't need to get involved.

A couple of larger trailers sported Brink Security, painted in bright, professional letters. Caterers passed back and forth from the others, but the Brink trailers were quiet, with just their lights aglow through curtained windows. A shadow passed across one.

The entire operation had begun to make my skin crawl.

Keeping to the gloom, we skirted around the edges of the main thoroughfare and crept up behind the first Brink trailer. Inside, the floor creaked. Someone definitely occupied it.

"Can you creep on the emotions of the folks inside?" I whispered. Zee could pick up heightened emotions through doors and walls. Those fighters had definitely been emotional. He'd know if they were the ones moving about.

Zee gave a nod, closed his eyes, and did whatever he does when he gets his incubus on. "Yeah, we got some feisty, head-fucked individuals in these trailers."

"How many?

"Hard to tell. The bloodlust kinda overrules everything else." He gave himself an all-over shake. "Someone is going to expire tonight."

"Okay, let's go in. We can pretend to be staff and just see how it goes."

"Look at you, getting your protagonist vibes on."

"What? No." I flapped a hand. "I'm just doing what any normal human person would do."

"Wait, if you're the protagonist, that makes me the side character?" He screwed up his nose. "Nah dawg, I'm totally main character material."

"You're my main character." I grinned. "And we're just two normal people having a look around."

Zee fluttered his lashes. "Babycakes, the normal ship has left the harbor and sailed off the fucking map into shark-infested waters. There ain't nothing normal about your cute dragon ass."

"You haven't actually seen my dragon ass."

"Not yet." He waggled his eyebrows.

I huffed a quiet chuckle. "You know I'm a whole lot bigger than you, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. The size of a house. We've had this conversation."

"Do you really want to see an ass that size?"

He pointed, opened his mouth, then paused. "Yeah, no, you're probably right. I'm good." He grinned, and even in the gloom I saw his sharp teeth shine.

"We're just here to maybe save the fighters, alright?" I reminded. "No drama. No heroics. Just checking in."

"Sure. Whatever you say." Zee flung a salute loosely at his forehead. "General Vex. "

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Turn me into some hotshot general with a plan. That whole pets-in-pies thing was an accident. I didn't mean to kill Fido. We're just here on a date and want to help out. Definitely not destiny, or fate, or heroics."

He shrugged. "Sure, whatever you say, Kitten."

Why didn't I believe him? Maybe it was something to do with the way mischief sparkled in his eyes. As far as demon lore stated, I was their general. But nobody had noticed, so maybe it didn't matter? Regardless, being General Vex wasn't going to help me here.

The door on the opposite side if the trailer clanged, rattling the sides and interrupting our discussion.

I peeked around the corner. Nobody was nearby. All the activity was bubbling up around the catering trucks.

"Let's go." We hurried from our hiding place, up the steps and into the first trailer. Fairy Fists of Fury stood with his back to us. He had his leg out of his trousers and was vigorously wrapping it in bandages. "That was quick. Did you bring the spray?"

"Uhm, no?"

He glanced up, saw us, then went straight back to wrapping his thigh. "Who are you guys?"

"So... uhm... we work here." Clearly a lie, as we both wore suits. I hadn't really thought this through. "And we just came by your nice trailer to see if you'd considered maybe not fighting in the next round and leaving with us instead?"

"Leave?" Fairy Fists snorted and planted his wounded leg, giving it an experimental stamp. "Are you nuts? I'm gonna kill that fucker."

I glanced at Zee for some ideas, but he shooed a hand, urging me on. "Oh, okay," I told the fae. "But... have you considered not murdering for public entertainment? "

He lifted his head and scowled. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I got this." Zee muscled past me in the narrow aisle. "Look, we're saving you." He offered his hand. "Come with us and you don't have to go out there and maybe die while some rich prick eats his asparagus bread and frog eggs."

The fae blinked, and his dusty face went from wary to outright anger. "Saving me? I don't want to be saved. I told you, I'm fucking that bastard up." He folded his arms. "D'yah know what he did? Do you?"

"Uh . . . no?" I ventured.

"He fucked—" The fae's voice quivered, then his cheek twitched. He looked away and whined. "He took my precious Saulianna from me. We were to be wed, to be joined forever as one. We were betrothed . And she ran off with that... that... troll!"

Zee glanced over at me, now asking for my help.

I shifted in front of him. This was clearly going to take some expert persuasion. "So uhm... Murder is bad?—"

"What do you know about murder?" the fae sneered, back to his default angry mode.

"Actually, I've had lots of experience with murder."

"You?" he sneered, after assuming my slight frame meant I was harmless. A ruse many had fallen for.

"People have died. In accidents," I said. "That weren't my fault. Anyway, that's not the point. What I mean is, this whole thing is wrong. You don't want to die out there, do you?"

"I'm not the one who's gonna die. I will beat that troll-faced piece of shit to a pulp, and then Saulianna"—he sighed her name—"will love me again."

Zee's timely snort drew the fae's ire-filled glare. "I don't think that's how true love works."

"What are you, huh? The love police?"

"Actually, yes. I'm an expert in love." Zee batted his lashes and fluttered a hand over his heart. "One hundred percent thoroughbred incubus right here. You may have seen me in classics such as Ten Inch Hero and Incubus Dreams ? — "

"Wait, I do know you. Yeah..." The fae swaggered closer to Zee. "You're the demon who opened the Sex Hotel?" He barked a grating laugh. "You're the last person I'm taking love advice from. You ever had a stable relationship that didn't involve your dick first?"

Zee's face twitched. His smile cracked, turning wooden. "Yes, thank you. I have." He flung a hand at me. "This unassuming human here is my partner, and my dick definitely did not get between us first. Although, it does now... regularly... Just this morning in fact?—"

"I don't think he needs to know?—"

The fae's laugh grated again. "You two are fucking?" He thumbed at me. "A loser human and a porn demon. You're so desperate you hooked up with a sex demon?!" His short, snappy, judgmental laughs were really beginning to get tiresome. "Did you get him tested?"

Zee recoiled again, the fae landing another insulting blow.

"Hey!" I snapped, then took a second to calm my heart and smooth my suit down before I said or did something that would land us in more trouble.

"I don't want the help of two losers," the fae dismissed. "I want to kill a troll. If you're not going to help with that , then you can fuck off before I call security."

"Saulianna made the right call," Zee said, backing up. "My money's on the fucking troll."

"That's Brink Security, right?" I asked. I'd seen that company name before, on a business card I'd found on the hotel basement floor, right where Claymore had tossed it. Brink Security had to be the same company.

"Yeah, get out of here before I call them."

"Do you, er... do you know Claymore?" It was a long shot, but if Claymore had some kind of dealings with Brink Security, this might be a lead in his disappearance.

The fae looked at me as though I were three seconds away from tasting his wrath.

"He's a gargoyle, and I wondered if you'd met him?" I asked, my voice getting higher.

He picked up his sword. "Get the fuck out."

"Okay, alright." I raised my hands and backed off. "We're leaving."

We hurried out of the trailer. Several strides ahead, Zee marched toward the other trailer muttering about love and dicks.

"Zee?" I called while also trying to keep my voice low. "Zee, wait?—"

Too late, he climbed the trailer's steps, flung open the door, and vanished inside. "Hey, yah wanna get out of here?" I heard him say. "If not, we'll fuck off. If you do, come with us now. Oh. Hey there, big guy, didn't see you?—"

Zee came backwards out the door, dangling from a gargoyle's hefty, one-handed grip around his neck. I had seconds to act.

I launched up the steps, veered around Zee's hanging form, and tackled the enormous gargoyle around his middle, driving him back inside. He backpedaled, hit a built-in cupboard—buckling it—then grunted and let go of Zee.

"Stay there," I warned. Backing off, I raised a finger. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will."

Behind me, Zee spluttered, rubbing his neck. "I'm good," he wheezed.

The troll at the other end of the trailer stood frozen, with just his eyes blinking. Wrapped in his fighter's gown, and being about the same height as me—tall for a troll—he just sort of looked, lost. I'd forgotten his name. Rock something? Rocky ?

"As my partner was saying, we've come to rescue you." I offered Rocky my hand. "Take it or don't."

"The fae prick is a huge asshole and you deserve to be with Saulianna," Zee said. "So let's hurry it up before this big boy gets his funk on again." Zee tossed the gargoyle guard an air kiss.

Growling, the guard reached for his radio.

"No," I warned. "I'm not feeling nice and you don't want to test me when I'm not nice."

Rocky suddenly rushed over and grabbed my hand. "Get me out of here!"

"Finally, someone wants to be rescued." Zee plucked the radio from the gargoyle's belt. "I'll be taking that. Love your muscles. Impressive. But you and me? Ain't gonna work. We're too different. It's my fault, truly. Let's be friends?"

The gargoyle growled again. Zee wasn't small, but the gargoyle made him seem it.

"So, uh... do you happen to know a Claymore?" I asked, as I passed by the guard and headed toward the door. It seemed like as good a time as any to ask, but a growl rumbled up his throat. "Okay, guess not."

"Growl at me, pal," Zee warned. "You don't touch my human."

"I'm going to rip your wings off, demon," the gargoyle rumbled.

Zee winked. "Gotta catch me first, handsome."

We bolted out of the trailer and sprinted away from the catering hubbub, deeper into the quiet, shadowy industrial yard, and away from the bright lights and noise of the Dine and Fight event.

"Where's your car?" the troll panted. He ran with his robe lifted, to keep it from dragging in the mud.

"Oh, erm, we'll call an Uber?"

"An Uber? "

Reaching an abandoned building, we ducked out of sight and hunched beside a window. The fight trailers and warehouse shone, lit up like a stadium. We'd be able to see anyone coming from here.

"Don't you guys have a plan?" the troll whispered, crouching beside me.

"Pfft." Zee knelt by the window too. "Plans are for losers and vampires who get hard for furniture."

The troll glanced between us, his gnarled face quickly revealing concern. He stood up. "It was nice meeting you, but I've changed my mind. I have to go back."

"What? No." I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back into a crouch. "We're rescuing you."

Big dark eyes flicked between us. "I'm not sure I want you guys to rescue me."

Zee huffed. "We are pros at this."

"I don't think you are. You should let me go."

He'd been fine with a rescue before. Was it the lack of a getaway vehicle that had put him off? "Don't be silly," I told him. "We're here now. We just have to wait until everyone leaves and we can walk right out."

"Is this a kidnapping?" he asked. "Are you kidnapping me?"

"No, it's a rescue ." Zee frowned, and asked me, "Why isn't he getting it?"

"Maybe we're doing it wrong?" I tried to smile at Rocky, hoping it would ease his nerves, but all it seemed to do was heighten them. "This is our first official rescue."

"You've never rescued anyone before?" Rocky squeaked.

"Some pets," Zee answered. "And a bunch of sex demons. Does rescuing Victor Fancy Fangs count, because I have done that way too many fucking times."

"I'm going back." He stood again.

I pulled him down again. "We really are more formidable than we look. Trust me. My name is Adam and this is Zee. We run a hotel for Lost Ones, and we're saving you. There's nothing to be frightened of."

"Uh. Hey. I'm Harold. But you people are crazy. I should go back now, before they realize I'm missing. They'll kill me."

Zee straightened, and propping a shoulder against the wall he gave Harold his unimpressed, raised-eyebrow glance. "You got a fifty-fifty chance of dying in that ring," Zee told him. "Don't you wanna live for Saulianna?"

Harold's mouth worked around his worry. "I do, I just. They're real bad?—"

"Who are they ?" I asked. "Who is behind this?"

"You don't know?" Harold gulped.

"No, we just heard about this whole thing tonight."

He cast his gaze down and muttered a little prayer. " Gorblak, Great Tollkeeper and Protector of Bridges, help us . We're going to die," he added. "Why didn't you tell me you guys were making this up as you go along?"

An impatient growl rumbled out of Zee. "We're sorry we didn't read you all the terms and conditions of this fucking rescue before the rescuing part happened, but the big gargoyle tried to choke me before we had a chance to chat."

"Right. Right..." Harold glanced through the broken window at the bright lights. "Brink Security run it. It's a way to settle grudges, get revenge, that kind of thing. Since we don't really have laws. Lost Ones, I mean."

"Like old-fashioned duels but with nice food and a seating plan?" I asked.

"Yeah, I guess. They don't tell you it's to the death until after you're in. The only way out is to win the fight." He wrung his hands and slumped against the wall.

"Okay, so who is behind Brink Security? Who runs all this?" I asked.

"I don't know, not really. Not for sure. But when I saw a previous fight, Commissioner Musashi was out the back, talking to the gargoyle staff. It seems like he has something to do with it."

"Hello, good ol' fashioned police corruption," Zee crooned. "Also, our cue to exit stage left. Kitten, we should scoot off?—"

"I bet Agent Leomaris would like to know about these events," I thought aloud.

"Yeah, if only we weren't keeping our heads down and not getting involved in Lost Ones shit due to royally fucking up the little meet and greet in the vampire forest," Zee reminded me, then drew a finger across his throat to add emphasis. "Right, Kitten?"

That was a good point. "Maybe an anonymous tip?"

"I can't go home, they'll find me," Harold said, wringing his hands. "I signed a contract. Gorblak as my witness, I have to do this. I have to go back. I have to kill Saulianna's ex. I've never killed anyone in my life. He's so angry."

I placed a hand on his shoulder, softer this time, trying to offer comfort. "You can stay with us until we get this all sorted."

"Are you sure this isn't a kidnapping?"

"You don't have to stay at the hotel, I guess? There are wards to keep you in—keep you safe. Maybe I'm explaining it wrong?" Was saving people always this confusing? I hadn't realized there were terms and conditions involved.

Zee shrugged. "Let's figure out the rescuing small print when our asses are safe?" He peeked out the window. "A bunch of guards with flashlights are heading this way. I'll distract them while you head for the road." Zee dug his phone out of his pocket and shoved it into my hand. "Call an Uber when you get there. I'll make my way back once you're clear."

"Wait, you mean . . . leave you? "

"Kitten, you're sweet, but I've got wings and I'm a badass." He gave his shoulders a twitch and those glorious expanses of leather unfurled behind him. Purple veins glowed in the dark, then fizzled out. "There ain't no way a few buff gargoyles are catching this fine example of peak incubusness... incubi-ness... Peak fucking demon."

Leaving without Zee had not been part of our poorly put together, mostly nonexistent plan.

"I can still go back and say I got lost?" Harold suggested.

"No," I told him firmly. "We're saving you." He really wasn't getting it. "Would you prefer we kidnap you?"

"Maybe, I guess." Harold shrugged. "If you take me, then I won't have broken my contract by leaving. I can't help it if I'm kidnapped, right?"

"Technically true," Zee agreed.

"Okay, fine. This is a kidnapping." I lowered my voice to a threatening tone. "Come with us now or suffer bad things." A cough cleared the throaty timbre. "Better?"

Harold's worry lines eased. "Actually, yeah."

Zee slammed a kiss on the top of my head. "Go. I'll see you back at the hotel." He turned on his heel, stepped out of the doorway, and launched into the air.

His dark silhouette swirled higher, then vanished against the black canvass of San Francisco's night sky. He'd be fine. He was Zee. Zee was always fine—apart from when he hadn't been. But this wasn't Gideon Cain and a shadowbeast. Like Zee had said, it was just a few slow gargoyles and he was a battle-hardened badass with wings.

"You like him?" Harold asked, drawing my gaze back inside.

"He's half my heart." And I was kinda getting the feeling Victor was the other half, but we weren't there yet, and Harold didn't need to know all that.

"Wow, okay. That much. That's... that's a lot. "

Something heavy clanged, and the flashlights belonging to the approaching guards Zee had mentioned swung away from our direction. "Alright, let's get out of here before they get closer."

We scurried out the back of the building, staying low and taking cover behind stacks of old metal drums.

"I love Saulianna, I do, I just..." Harold continued. "I'm not sure I love her enough to die for her?"

I'd die to save Zee in a heartbeat. Didn't even have to think about it. It was a reflex. An instinct. "If you'd stayed in that fight, you may have," I told him. It sounded as though he'd gotten caught up in something he hadn't known all the details of, and then been swept along by it.

"This whole thing has been a mess," he grumbled. "I wish I'd never answered that stupid invite."

I caught movement near a half-collapsed storage shed, dropped into a crouch, and waved for Harold to get down behind me. We were far from the event now, but that didn't mean there weren't dangers lurking in these shadows.

Streetlights lined the main road a few hundred meters away, but between us and there was a whole lot of darkness, piles of twisted fencing, and rusted containers. Lots of hiding places and ambush points.

"What's the hold up?" Harold whispered over my shoulder.

"I don't like the look of our way out."

"Looks clear."

It did, but my instincts were warning me it wasn't. "I've spent a lot of time running and hiding. Trust me when I say this doesn't feel right."

"Running and hiding from what? Responsibility? How old are you? You're real short, so... nineteen?"

A troll was calling me short? "I'm twenty-four."

"You don't look it. "

"You're real judgy, you know? And I don't look like a lot of things that I am."

"You aren't making much sense either."

I rolled my eyes and went back to scoping out our escape route. Nothing else had moved. Maybe the movement I'd spotted had just been a stray cat? "Alright, stay close. If anything happens, keep behind me."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, if something jumps out?"

"Is that likely?" he whispered.

"It's fifty-fifty, I guess."

"I don't like those odds."

"Forty-sixty?"

"That's better. Okay, I'm in."

As this was technically a kidnapping and not a rescue, Harold didn't have a choice. This wasn't going quite the way I'd thought it would, but we were almost safe-ish. Just had to get to the road and use Zee's phone to call a cab.

Four strides in, an enormous hulking mass of fur, claws, and teeth leaped into our path. Having seen Zee's friend Abe in his lupine form, I knew this was definitely a werewolf. From his snarling muzzle and thrashing tail, I figured he wasn't all that interested in chatting.

I spread my hands, showing the shifter I was unarmed. "So uhm, hey, we're just passing through?"

Harold stayed behind me for about three seconds, then bolted back toward the event—robe flapping, boots slapping the dirt. If there's one thing I know about predators, mostly from being one, it's that if you're smaller and happen to resemble a squeaky toy, you definitely do not make yourself even more appealing by running.

The wolf's head whipped around. Its eyes got big.

I stepped into its line of sight. "Wait! Don't?— "

The lupine shifter dug its claws in and launched, galloping around me and after Harold. Oh dear.

Harold could run like the wind, and was putting in a good showing, but with such short legs every three of his strides equaled one werewolf leap. In about eight seconds Harold would be kibble.

I bolted too.

Harold's odds now were a lot less than fifty-fifty.

Was this normally how rescues went? Eaten by a werewolf. We couldn't have planned for that, right? This was one of the many reasons why I didn't do heroics. Harold didn't even want to be rescued. Why were we doing this?

The shifter tripped, yelped, and went down, giving Harold a chance to break away.

And me a chance to... do what? I could have made myself more appealing than Harold, and led the werewolf away. But that thought only came to me after I'd leaped and landed on the shifter's back, and clung to tufts of his hair. "Please stop!" I begged in the shifter's fluffy ear. But he wasn't stopping. I wasn't even sure he knew I was riding him.

Shouts rose up. Flashlights swung our way. I couldn't see Zee, but wherever he was, he couldn't miss a sprinting troll wearing just a gown and shorts with me riding a werewolf in hot pursuit.

Harold plunged through the fight-club doors. "Help! Werewolf!" he cried.

Screams erupted. I heard them over the heavy thumping of the shifter's heart and thud of his heavy paws. Bursting into the warehouse, our gallop sent people, chairs, tables, and food flying.

The second thing I know about predators is once they're in the zone, the last thing they need is to be overstimulated by a barrage of screaming, flailing humans who all look like prey. We've all been there, right? You're in the store, there's kids shouting, the lines are too long, the music's too loud, too many people, the cashiers are mean, and you just want to eat everyone and everything in sight to make it stop?

That's not just a me thing, right?

The shifter I was riding took huge snapping bites at the sparkly, expensive people.

I grabbed fistfuls of hair and leaned back, wrangling a hundred and sixty kilos of shifter under control. I had about as much chance of stopping a freight train as I did this determined furry, but stuck on his back, I was committed. The lupine shifter bounded and bucked around the warehouse, but he was slowing. Buck by see-sawing buck, he plodded to an exhausted stop and flopped on his belly. Spent.

Poor guy. He'd only wanted to eat one troll. I patted his head between his fluffy ears. "There's a good boi."

It was over.

Clambering off him and onto wobbly legs, I stumbled into a wave of applause. Cheers rose up. Phones winked under the spotlights—spotlights trained on me. A man in a suit, mic in hand, hurried over, grabbed my arm, and raised it overhead. "The victor! And what a show that was! Now that's entertainment, folks!"

I gulped, and squinted into camera flashes.

"What's your name?" the announcer asked.

My heart thumped louder, and not just from the adrenalin comedown. The lights were hot, the crowd endless. So many faces looked at me. "Oh, I don't think they want to know?—"

"Tell me your name and I'll make you famous." The announcer grinned.

"Famous? I don't really want that?—"

"Adam!" Zee's cry came from the back of the crowd. He flapped his wings to vault over their heads, and landed in spectacular fashion in front of us .

"Adam!" the announcer cried, thrusting my hand into the air. "Adam the Alpha!"

"Uh, no, that's not really?—"

The crowd went crazy—jeering, clapping, taking pictures. Zee ignored it all and grabbed my free hand. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine . . . I uh . . . Zee, what's happening right now?"

Zee noticed the crowd, frowned, then winced. "I think you're going viral."

"What do you want?" the announcer asked me.

"Want?"

"What reward? Every winner gets a prize."

"But I didn't really—" I caught sight of Harold in the crowd, flanked by two enormous gargoyles. "Let him go." I pointed. "Harold, over there. Rockslide Ravager! Let him go. Null his contract. No more vendetta."

"You sure? You don't want money?"

We could have used the money for the hotel, but I'd already agreed to save Harold, so... "No, let him go."

"Alright."

The announcer declared Harold was free, and the show was over. There weren't any tables left to sit at anyway.

The gargoyle security guards let Harold go, and instead scooped up the dozing werewolf. "Hey, don't hurt him, okay? He was just protecting his territory." They grumbled, and plodded off with the lupine shifter slung between them.

Zee's hand came down on my shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. "Kitten, pass my phone?"

I handed it over while still in the spotlights, smiling and nodding at folks pointing and staring. The commissioner was among them, standing back. In the shifting lights, I couldn't tell if he was scowling or smiling.

"I think we should probably get out of here," I suggested through a tight smile. Even though we hadn't planned to trash the fight club, their sponsor Gideon Cain probably wouldn't see it that way.

I was beginning to feel exposed. As though every single person here could see through me, to my insides, where I kept all my secrets. They couldn't see through my glamor, but that didn't stop me from feeling naked.

"You know how you don't do the internet?" Zee asked, and showed me his phone's screen. His tail lashed, then wrung itself in knots from worry. "It's about to do you." His socials were open on a video of me riding the lupine shifter. Hashtag AdamtheAlpha was trending. Likes clicked up as fast as the passing seconds.

Yeah, okay, this was the exact opposite of hiding, not making waves, and keeping our heads down. My insides scrunched into a tight, nervous ball. "I'm definitely not an alpha."

"Facts don't matter online, babycakes."

I searched Zee's face for some expression that would tell me this was all going to be fine, but as he tried to smile, concern tugged at the edges of his mouth.

"Let's go." He circled an arm around my shoulders, and we maneuvered around the trashed tables and fought our way through the crowds of people with their phones up, filming.

Nobody tried to follow us once we'd walked through the parking area, and Zee summoned a cab. "It'll be fine. Viral stuff like this dies down after a day or two."

Who was he convincing? Me or himself?

We climbed into the cab. Snug in the back, I shuffled against Zee and sighed. Another thing I knew, was that no human in the history of humans had ever ridden a werewolf. Zee and Reynard knew I wasn't human, and now it seemed the rest of the world might know too.

"Don't be scared," Zee whispered, stroking my bouncy hair. "It's okay." He could taste my fear, and while his words did help, he didn't know that I wasn't scared for me. I was scared for us, and the SOS Hotel. Because if Adam Vex wasn't human, what was I?

A question everyone was going to ask.

With an answer nobody was ready for.