Five Shifter men leapt over the low circle of cinderblocks that marked out the ring, shouting and making waving motions with their arms. The referees, Elizabeth guessed. Ending the fight.
The wildcat backed away. The wolf rolled to its feet, shaking its body like a dog. The wolf's shape undulated as it shook, ending with the wolf becoming a young man with shaggy black hair. The young man rose upright and put his hands on his hips, breathing hard, Collar still sparking.
The wildcat morphed into the tall form of Dylan Morrissey. Ronan had told Elizabeth that Dylan was aging even by Shifter standards, but in human terms Dylan looked like a man in his late forties at most, one in fantastic shape. His Collar was quiet, and he didn't seem much the worse for wear.
The refs called Dylan the winner, and those who'd bet in his favor went crazy.
"Dad!" Sean called.
Dylan saw them, stepped over the cinderblocks, and came to them, completely unworried that he was naked in front of Elizabeth. But many of the Shifters were already naked, stretching, warming up, getting ready for their bouts.
"Since when do you take part in Shifter fights?" Sean asked him.
Dylan shrugged. "They keep me on my toes."
"Does Liam know?"
Dylan took a shirt from Glory, who'd materialized out of the crowd. "Not everything I do is Liam's business, son."
Glory hung on Dylan's shoulder. "You got that right. Dylan fighting is damn sexy. Gets my blood pumping."
Sean looked embarrassed. Glory gave Elizabeth a thumb's up behind Dylan's back. Dylan turned away, as though uncaring what anyone thought of him, and Glory followed him into the crowd.
"Parents, eh?" Sean said to Elizabeth. "But what can I do? I'm glad Glory's only me step-mum."
"Treasure it, Sean," Elizabeth said over the noise. "I never had a dad, embarrassing or otherwise."
Sean gave her a nod. "You have a point. Liam and I lost our mum a long time ago."
Elizabeth touched his shoulder in sympathy, then she stopped. "Wait a sec. Why didn't Dylan's Collar go off?" She remembered Kim standing proudly in the courtroom, proclaiming that Ronan's Collar remaining dark meant he hadn't intended to hurt anyone. "They were fighting pretty hard. It didn't look like your dad was holding back in there."
Sean's gaze flicked from hers. "Could be lots of reasons."
Elizabeth recognized evasiveness when she heard and saw it. Apparently information about the Collars was need-to-know.
"Come on," Sean said, pretending he'd answered the question to her satisfaction. "Ronan's spotted Marquez."
Sean pushed through the crowd that waited for the next fight, and Elizabeth followed in his wake. Behind her, women were shouting for the next two going into the ring. She also heard females she passed going crazy for Spike. They screamed his name or "There-he-is-oh-my-God-that's- him !"
Julio Marquez stood in a relatively empty space with three men around him, all human. No guns were visible, Shifters stationed at the entrance to check for them. No weapons were allowed inside the barn. There was no sign of Zach, either, though every tracker Liam employed was searching for him or here keeping a lookout for him.
"You showed up," Julio was saying when Elizabeth reached Ronan. "Good start. You should have left the chica at home, though."
Ronan ignored him. "So where's this champion?"
"You'll see him when you fight him. Half an hour. Ring two." He laughed. "Maybe it is a good thing you brought your bitch. She'll be on hand when you need to say good-bye."
Ronan turned away, his body language all that was contempt.
"He's up to something," Elizabeth said to him. "I mean more than trying to kill you and give me to Zach."
"Of course he's up to something," Ronan said. "He's a thief and a liar. It's just figuring out what and when." He slid his arm around Elizabeth's waist. "Half an hour, eh? Maybe he's right. Maybe I should take you into a corner and kiss you a while, just in case. We'll make Sean and Spike keep watch for us."
Pablo Marquez was in the middle of a deal that could cinch him taking over the trade of the entire southern half of Texas. He could leave Austin and his sudden Shifter problem and hole up in a beautiful mansion by a lake. No more back alley body shops or too-curious neighbors in the suburbs. Solitude, a pool, and all the fine wine he could drink. He was becoming a connoisseur of the stuff.
The thin white man standing in front of him was one of the best smugglers in the business. But though the man knew how to move product, he needed someone on the street to sell it for him, and some of his Hill Country contacts had moved elsewhere. With banditry south of the border increasing, and enthusiastic vigilante border patrols keeping watch north of it, moving anything between the U.S. and Mexico, in either direction, was risky and expensive. But Pablo had the resources and connections, this man had the expertise, and they'd make beautiful money together. Pablo was going to land this.
Or so he thought, until his lieutenant's cell phone quietly rang and the man stepped into a corner to answer it. The lieutenant returned and whispered into Pablo's ear.
Pablo stopped. Julio. Son of a . . .
"Problem?" the smuggler said. He had a reedy voice but quiet strength behind it.
"No," Pablo said in a reassuring tone. "At least not for you." He gave him a wry look. "Family."
"Ah. I understand." The man's light blue gaze didn't waver. "Why don't you take care of that? I'll be back to talk later."
Which meant Pablo would probably never see him again. The smuggler wouldn't like any indication that Pablo's operation was the least bit unstable, which could equal said smuggler not getting paid. Even an unruly little brother could upset a touchy shipment. Shit .
But Pablo couldn't sit here and beg like a little girl for the man not to go. He nodded, pretending everything was cool. "Sure. You have my number. You let me know."
The man nodded. He held out a hand, and Pablo, his wrist still in a bandage, shook it.
The smuggler walked away, his thugs closing around him, and Pablo knew that was the last he'd see of him. He turned to his lieutenant. "Damn that little shit. Where did he take him? Where are they?"
Ronan stripped off next to the middle ring half an hour later, but there was no sign of his opponent. Elizabeth held his clothes, hiding her nervousness. She was good at that, when she needed to be. Her courage made him warm with pride. Ronan's lips were a bit raw from kissing her outside, but he didn't mind. He hoped he'd have a chance to make them rawer later.
When the crowd parted to let through a large male Shifter, surrounded by Julio's bodyguards, Spike said behind Ronan, "Aw, crap."
"What?" Elizabeth asked. "What's wrong with him?"
So many things. First, the Shifter wasn't wearing a Collar. Second, the bodyguards weren't protecting the Shifter--they were keeping him penned so he wouldn't start fighting everyone he laid his bloodshot eyes on. Third, the man stank like holy hell.
"He's a feral," Ronan said.
"Feral?" Elizabeth's eyes widened. "What do you mean, feral ?"
Spike answered. "It means his animal side is close to taking over." He wrinkled his once-broken nose. "The first thing to go is bathing."
"His animal side?" Elizabeth asked. "Because he's not wearing a Collar?"
"Anyone can go feral, with or without a Collar," Ronan said. "But it's harder with a Collar, because it tends to shock sense into you."
"We lived for centuries without Collars," Sean said, sounding grim. "And we never needed them to keep us tame. Seems nowadays, though, that most of the Shifters who refused to take the Collar are feral or heading that way."
"Great," Elizabeth said. "So not only is he feral, but he's angry because other Shifters let themselves be Collared?"