Chapter Sixteen
Angus
The next morning passed in a blur to Angus. The early air was warm, foreshadowing an unseasonably hot day. Heath woke up early and fed Maia. Angus listened to them from the other room, memorizing each gentle word and soft responding coo. He'd been awake all night, fighting his instincts. At least after that day was over, he wouldn't have to fight his instincts anymore, because he was making damn sure Heath never got into a situation like this one again.
Heath seemed to be in a fine mood, all things considered.
The difference in temperament between this Heath and the one months before was night and day. This Heath had faced the ring, and, unfortunately for Angus, he had liked it.
They'd driven to the inn to meet Steven, who then led them to the new fighting space. When they parked in a busy open field next to a warehouse that Angus thought had been erected for this purpose, Angus' heart beat wildly. There were more people here than at the first fight. Clearly, Marcos had gotten the word out. Angus put his hand on the door, but found his mate's gentle touch on his elbow, stopping him.
"Angus, thank you for today," Heath said, looking at his lap. "I know you don't like what is going on—"
Angus snorted. Don't like, was a gross understatement.
"—but I'm not scared. Because of you. You make me a stronger man, Angus. This guy, whoever he is, doesn't stand a chance."
Angus pulled Heath into a tight hug. "Remember not to mess up your face," he said, because saying anything else was impossible.
As they got out of the truck, Roscoe joined Angus' side while Billy and Stannis—two of the larger pack members—stepped into place beside Heath. They were a united front, and the four of them, all bear shifters, could do a lot of damage if needed.
Once Angus had realized there was no talking Heath out of his plan, the goal then became mitigating any possible traps from Marcos. Which included bringing muscle.
As they stepped toward the warehouse, a loud rumbling sounded from behind them. Angus turned to see a horde of motorcycles approaching. They drove past them, parking their bikes smoothly up against the warehouse wall.
"I called in some more reinforcements," Roscoe told Angus and Heath.
"Morning!" Ryder called out, removing his helmet as the other bikers did the same. "Don't mind if I bet on the fight, do you?"
Angus growled, but Heath only said, "As long as you bet on me winning."
When they entered the wide doors of the warehouse, it was as a united front. The space had either been constructed for the fights or had been remodeled.
The inside was open with a ring in the center, benches surrounding it for the spectators and then booths along the outside walls, where it looked like people were making and taking bets. As the crowd caught sight of Heath, the men waiting around the dirt ring cheered.
Steven directed them to a corner of the warehouse where they could wait while the smaller fights took place. In this event, Heath was the headliner, and Angus couldn't help but wonder if that was purposeful because Marcos wanted more people there since Marcos assumed Heath would fail.
When the first fight started, with two kids that were barely older than eighteen, most of the attention went to the ring, but people still looked back at Heath's corner, staring and whispering behind their hands.
"Can you tell what they are saying?" Heath asked Angus.
They were commenting on how tall he was, how much muscle mass he had, whether he looked scared or confident. Angus growled as he listened to them talking about his mate as if he was a horse about to race. "They're saying you are going to do a great job," Angus replied.
"Liar," Heath said, leaning into him.
Angus closed his eyes and cherished the feeling of his mate beside him. He imagined he was letting all his strength and power flow from his body and into Heath's.
The ding of a bell signaled the end of the first fight, though Angus couldn't say who had won. Three more fights were scheduled before Heath's, according to Steven, and with each fight, the men grew larger, more advanced. By the time the third fight ended with a knockout punch that caused a spray of blood to splatter the first row of onlookers, Angus was in a frenzy. His brother stuck to his side. He had strict instructions not to let Angus do anything rash, and he was going to have his work cut out for him.
Marcos appeared from somewhere on the other side of the warehouse. He walked through the crowd like he was a rock in the river, expecting the people to simply divert around him. Angus had been searching for Marcos since arriving and when he hadn't been able to find him, he figured he'd been hiding in some hole. Marcos stepped into the ring, gesturing with open palms for the crowd of bloodthirsty spectators to settle down.
"Time for the main event!" he announced, causing a roar so loud that it shook the warehouse walls. "In this corner, the underdog that couldn't be stopped. The scrappy little train engine that could. Heath the Heavy Hitter!"
As Angus numbly watched Heath climb into the ring to face off against a competitor that had yet to be named, he couldn't help but wonder how he'd gotten here. Months ago, he was coming back to see the home his brother had built. He'd spotted this awkward-looking human male doing everything he could to stand out while also blending in. He'd been a curiosity to Angus from the beginning, which had turned into an obsession and then had become a mating. Now, Angus was sending his mate, the father of his child, off to war.
At least that was how it felt. Like Heath was the lamb being sent to slaughter to appease the malicious gods.
"And in the other corner, a man who needs an introduction, but not for long! The undeniable…the surprising…Jumpin' John!"
Angus was on his feet, his face a mask of confusion.
John? Out of all the names he'd been given by Ryder and his other informants, John was nowhere on the list of people to worry about. Except when he took to the ring, scurrying out from the same hole Marcos had probably been hiding in, he looked familiar.
"Fuck," Ryder said, causing the hair on the back of Angus' neck to rise.
"What do you mean?" Roscoe asked. "He's…puny."
The man that stepped into the ring and waited in his corner across from Heath was average sized. His muscles looked accidental, byproducts of working manual labor jobs. The crowd didn't seem to understand either. The cheering had died down, and they all just stared between Heath, who had obviously trained for this moment, and John.
That was when Angus remembered where he'd seen the man before. At Ryder's club, he'd challenged Angus and Heath to a game of pool. Then, he and his buddy had been a sore losers when Heath had annihilated them.
"Hold on, hold on now," Marcos hollered to the crowd. "I did say, the undeniable and the surprising, didn't I?"
There was a smattering of applause as all eyes slid to John, watching him transform. He grew larger, his muscles leaner and when he lifted his hands, they were both clawed.
"A hybrid," Angus said, the words tasting like dirty diapers.
After their initial shock, the crowd erupted, many of them running back to the betting booths. Angus' eyes never left Heath's face. He'd been shocked as well, but now stood at the ready, prepared to go up against a hybrid. This was fucking lunacy. There was no way Heath could face a hybrid shifter. They may not be able to turn into beasts, but they had almost as much power.
"Let me go, Roscoe," Angus said, noticing when he tried to jump forward that his brother had him by both the arms.
"You told me to do this," Roscoe said grimly into his ear. "You'll remember that later."
"I meant during a fight with a human! Not a fucking hybrid!" he snarled. Next to them, Ryder flinched, likely feeling a little guilty over his part in all this. Angus didn't know if John had sought Marcos out or the other way around, but clearly John had a debt to settle as well with Ryder and all his friends, had remembered Heath from that night at the bar and had seen him as an easy target.
"I had no idea, Angus, I swear," Ryder said. He too was showing his claws and fangs, though he was likely too furious to notice. "I knew the little fucker was mad at me because I wouldn't let him and his friend join, but I didn't think he would do something like this."
The bell rang, and Angus was helpless as the fight began. He could shift, though his brother would likely just shift with him and drag him out. But what was he supposed to do? Watch his mate be torn apart?
"Look at the ring, Angus. Watch it, brother," Roscoe whispered.
Angus had been too weak to watch it as it had begun but now looked up at the two fighters, one now larger and equipped with razor-sharp claws, the other the love of his life, ducking to dodge a swipe from John before taking advantage of John's unprotected middle section. Heath landed the punch and John stumbled back wheezing.
Heath didn't allow him the moment of respite though as he advanced, always careful not to get too close to John's claws. It became clear that while John had the upper hand when it came to natural resources, Heath had trained harder. He damn near danced around the hybrid, as beautiful as a ballerina, twirling and ducking under each of John's advances.
Heath threw another punch, but this time, John managed to catch his arm, immediately sinking his sharp fangs into the hard flesh of Heath's bicep. Angus' roar was drowned out by the roar of the crowd. They were displeased by John's show of unsportsmanlike behavior, which was an unexpected plus, but didn't solve the fact that Heath's arm now bled freely as he held his arm to his front.
His brother released him, and Angus stomped forward. He was still too far away, helpless to watch as John came up behind Heath, got his arms around him and squeezed. Heath howled in pain but then slammed his head back against John's face. John released him, and Heath turned, leaping forward, his bloody arm useless by his side, and grabbed John by the neck with his other hand. He didn't have a tight enough hold to choke the other man, but that didn't matter as Heath brought his face forward, butting his forehead against John's face. The hybrid dropped, and Heath fell with him. The crowd got to their feet as Angus reached the side of the ring, watching Heath stumble upright as John remained on the dirt, clutching his face and moaning. The bell rang, and Marcos returned, holding Heath's arm in the air as the crowd roared for him and chanted his name.
Angus stayed back, waiting long enough to let his mate enjoy the moment in the spotlight before lifting him to his arms and carrying him away. He took him through the crowd with his pack and Ryder's pack surrounding him and didn't set him down until they got to the jeep.
He opened the passenger side door and set Heath in with his body facing out so he could apply what little first aid he knew how to do.
"You're growling," Heath said, smiling as blood leaked down his face.
"I know," Angus said, wiping him clean. The wound at his forehead wasn't so bad, though it would bruise. "You messed up your face," Angus said, cupping Heath's cheek. He felt so warm and safe in his hands that Angus didn't think he would ever let him go.
"I was improvising," Heath said, still smiling. "I did it," he said, barely loud enough for Angus to hear. Then, he said it again louder. "I did it!"
Angus' whole body still shook, but he was proud of his mate. "Yes, you did."
There was a commotion from behind them as Ryder's pack blocked a man from approaching.
"I've got a message from Marcos," Steven said to Heath over the heads of the shifters and hybrids between them.
"Let him through," Angus said, and Steven walked toward them, eying the men on both sides of him warily.
"Marcos wanted me to congratulate you. Actually, he wanted to congratulate you himself but—"
"Was too scared to show his face after that shit he pulled? No shifter hybrid has ever fought before now," Angus said.
"That's because none of us knew you all existed," Steven replied looking at Angus skeptically. "I still don't even know what I saw. But, Marcos wanted me to congratulate you and make you an offer."
Angus snarled. "No offers. The deal was that if Heath fought, his debts were settled. That's it," Angus replied darkly. If Marcos tried going back on his word now, there would be hell to pay.
"Let him talk, Angus," Heath said, sitting forward.
His forehead was already starting to turn colors.
Steven looked like he wished he was anywhere else but where he was. "Marcos said your debt is settled, but if you wanted to make more money, he would put you on his regular roster—"
"No fucking—" Angus began, but stopped himself. He forced his feet to remain flat on the ground as he deferred to Heath, waiting for his reply.
Heath gave him an appreciative smile before turning to Steven. "Tell your boss thanks, but no thanks. My days in the ring are done."
Steven nodded, shuffling back, only to find his path blocked by Stannis who growled down his neck. "I knew you would say that. Tried to tell him you'd refuse. It's for the best," Steven said. "I think he was planning on putting you in the hospital today but had second thoughts after your little display of power."
Angus figured he meant the escorts that had come with them.
"Your debts are clear but I wouldn't breathe easy around him," Steven said.
"Why are you telling me this?" Heath asked.
Steven shrugged. "Maybe I just like being on the winning side."
***
They drove back to the camp together, saying goodbye to Ryder and his pack along the way. The riders rumbled up the highway toward Pineville as Roscoe took the five of them to the trailhead. Ryder was becoming a good ally, but neither Roscoe or Angus trusted him with their location just yet. When they got back to camp, Heath washed up before going with Angus to retrieve Maia. They knocked on Gaia's temporary cabin, as the one she would share with Maggie was still being built. Maggie answered the door with Maia in her arms.
"You messed up your face," Maggie said, blinking away tears. "I always said you were hard headed." She handed him Maia, remaining close for a moment longer than was necessary. "Good job, Heath. Good job both of you."
Heath and Angus walked back to their cabin enjoying the calm silence.
"She's right, you know," Heath said. "You did a good job. Not many men would be strong enough to do what you did."
Angus draped his arm over Heath's shoulders. "Let's not make it a habit."