Hard Mated

Chapter Thirteen

Myka spent the morning on the phone trying to come up with five-hundred thousand dollars. Her fellow trainers thought they might raise a hundred and fifty between them, including what Myka could add, but that was it.

Banks and investors weren’t interested. Stables didn’t make money. Horses ate the profits—literally. More than one lender said that to her, thinking it hilarious.

Spike still hadn’t returned when it came time for Myka to leave for Jillian’s funeral. She asked Ellison to come back and help Ella with Jordan, even though she thought Jordan was probably safe enough with only his grandmother. Myka was angry at Liam for going behind Spike’s back to spy on her, but she didn’t think the man would he’d harm Jordan.

She agreed with Spike about not taking Jordan to the funeral. Jordan seemed to understand, with perception a human child might not have, that his mother had been beyond saving. Jordan kept mentioning the Summerland, saying he was glad his mom was safe there.

Myka didn’t want to upset his new equilibrium by taking him to a funeral home with grieving adults. Again, Jordan seemed to understand, and told Myka to tell his mom he loved her.

At the funeral, Sharon was surrounded by her immediate family, who rallied around to comfort her. Sharon told Myka she was getting by all right, and some tension left her when Myka said she thought Jordan would be fine living with his father.

The funeral was as sad as Myka had thought it would be. But she was glad she had the chance to say a good-bye to her friend, the fun-loving young woman who’d lived hard and died too quickly.

Afterward, Myka drove back to Spike’s house. His Shifter neighbors up and down the street watched her return, knowing something had changed between her and Spike. A few raised hands in greeting, many simply watched.

Myka sensed the change in herself as well. Her body felt different—stronger somehow. Her thoughts were restless, and a warm ache spread from her chest to twine her entire body.

Ellison reported that Jordan had wanted to talk a little bit about his mother, but he’d enjoyed having Ellison turn into a wolf so he could ride on Ellison’s back. He was now sleeping off the excitement of that adventure.

“Y’all need to teach him the difference between wolf and doggie,” Ellison said as he put on his hat to leave. “Hurt’s a wolf’s pride.”

Ella laughed at him and told him to get on home. Myka was too restless to talk and paced out on the porch, waiting for Spike.

The ache in Myka’s heart eased as soon as Spike’s motorcycle rounded the corner a little bit later. Jordan was still asleep, and Myka met Spike in the driveway as he swung off his bike, dusty and grim.

Spike slid one arm around her, touched her chin, and pressed a firm kiss her lips. He smelled of dust and the road, sweat and musk.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

A simple statement, but one that turned the ache to sweet delight.

Spike parked his bike and went inside with her, his arm firm around her waist. “Will you stay here tonight? I’ll make sure Ellison or Ronan is here to protect you and Jordan.”

Her ease dissolved into alarm. “Where will you be?”

“Fight club.”

Myka stopped. Spike’s face had hardened again, his expression one of a man who’d made a tough decision but was determined to carry it through.

“What are you going to do?” Myka asked softly.

“Give Gavan what he wants.”

Spike turned away, heading for the stairs. Myka mounted the staircase behind him, following him into his bedroom at the top of the stairs. The room was cleaner than a bachelor bedroom had a right to be, but he did have an extra pair of boots lying on floor and a few dirty clothes piled in a chair.

“What do you mean?” Myka asked, closing the door behind them. The room was warm from the afternoon sun beating on the roof.

“I mean I’m going to fight who he wants me to fight and win.”

“I’m going with you,” Myka said.

Spike stripped off his shirt and headed for the closet, the dragon on his back moving with him. “You’ll be safer here.”

“I don’t care. If this mate thing means I have to do everything you say, then forget it.”

Spike turned and frowned at her. “It doesn’t.”

“Okay, then. I’m going.”

Spike rummaged for a clean shirt. “Being my mate means I keep you safe, no matter what. So I want you here.”

“I went to the fight club before, remember? From what I understand, no one’s allowed to fight outside the ring, or do anything that will disturb the Shifter pecking order.”

“Nope.”

“So I’d be safe there. Because it’s neutral ground.”

Spike came out of the closet, his expression grim. “Not necessarily.”

“You mean because of Gavan?”

“Yep.”

“He’s not asking you to kill anyone, is he?”

“Nope.”

Myka put her hands on her hips. “You have a limited vocabulary, Spike, you know that?”

“Fighters do.” Spike pulled a black shirt on over his head and unfolded its Harley logo down his chest.

“You’re more than just a fighter.”

“I know that.”

“Well, I want to be more than a fighter’s girlfriend. What does Gavan want you to do? Explain. I’ll get it.”

Spike let out a sigh, letting go of his stubborn, cryptic look. “He wants me to win fights against strategic targets. He believes that will weaken these Shifters in everyone’s mind, so when he challenges them for dominance, they’ll already know they weren’t as strong as they thought they were, and give him a better chance. Dominance isn’t only about strength—it’s about convincing others you can best them without it having to come to a fight. He’s offered to let me become his champion, so I get to be right there next to him when he takes over—after I help him take over. He’ll be leader of his Shiftertown, and I’ll be his second and his enforcer.”

Myka listened in silence, her alarm building. Spike turned to a small, square mirror on the wall and ran a hand over the stubble on his face. “To hell with shaving. I’ll just be shifting.”

“It can’t be that simple, can it?” Myka asked.

“Not shaving? Easy for me.”

“I know you know what I mean. It can’t be as simple as you winning a bunch of fights, and Gavan taking over.”

“Nope.”

Myka fell silent again. She knew good and well that Spike wouldn’t simply give in to Gavan and do whatever he wanted. She also knew he was angry at Liam and wasn’t about to crawl over there giving him Gavan on a platter. Spike was up to something underhanded.

“Let me help,” she said.

“Shifter shit is dangerous, Myka.”

“I know. But aren’t I going to be your mate? Or whatever that means? I think you’d better explain that part to me.”

Spike came to her, his eyes taking on the golden hue, his big hands closing around her arms. “It means the mate of my heart. You to me, me to you, one. Under the light of the Mother Goddess, the moon, and the Father God, the sun, you’ll join with me. We’ll share our lives, and no longer be separate, apart.” His fingers bit down. “The mate-claim means all other males have to back off. No one will hurt you or even touch you without going through me. I keep you safe, and if you accept my mate-claim, then we bind. For always.”

His face was set, eyes on her. To be with this man—this strange, crazy, wild but tender man . . . Myka wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or drown in hope.

Spike touched his forehead to hers, his hands shaking on her shoulders. “I don’t want you to promise now,” he said. “Let me finish with Gavan first. Then I’ll convince you to be mine.”

Myka let her arms drift around him, clasping his warm back. “How are you planning to do that? Convince me, I mean?”

Spike lowered his head and nipped her lips. “I can think of a lot of ways. But you’re so strong. I’ve never met a woman as strong as you.”

“Shifter women have to be stronger than human ones.”

He touched her chest, flattening his hand between her breasts. “You have strength of heart. You have the strength of a survivor.” He kissed her lips again, his mouth hot. “I want more than survival, and so do you. I say we come together—and live.”

Myka’s heart beat faster. “Yes.”

Spike touched the corners of her lips, opening her to him, slanting his mouth over hers. His tongue swept inside, heat and goodness, strength and caring. This man had so much caring in him, and it came to her through his touch.

Myka leaned into him. Spike let the kiss turn hard, his hands moving down to her breasts, teasing the nipples through her shirt.

“Myka,” he said, savoring her name. “Let me do what I need to do. And then . . .” He kissed her throat, licked her neck. “Then we’ll talk.”

“Fine by me.” Myka kissed his chin, loving the rough feel of the unshaved whiskers. “But you still haven’t told me what you plan to do.” She tightened her arms around him. “I’m not letting you out of this room until you do.”

Spike slanted her a wicked grin. “I was right. You are a little shit.” Then he kissed her again, lowered his voice, and told her.

Myka started smiling long before he finished. “No way am I staying behind and missing this. I want to help. Tell me what I can do.”

The night was fully dark by the time Myka and Spike pulled up to the gigantic abandoned hay barn that housed the Shifter fight club. Spike climbed out of the truck to look around before he’d let Myka out, inhaling the air unclogged by city smells.

The rain that had graced them last night was long gone, the sky clear and thick with stars. Out here, away from the towns, the remoter constellations were visible, clustering in faint smudges of white.

Tonight’s matches must have been broadcast far and wide, because the dirt around the barn was packed with vehicles—cars, pickups, motorcycles. Shifters and humans mingled in the makeshift parking lot, either walking purposefully or strolling leisurely toward the barn. Those who saw Spike lifted hands, called out greetings, or told him he’d better kick some ass because they had a lot riding on him.

They didn’t know the half of it.

Spike had called in favors tonight. He’d asked Ronan and Nate to watch over the house and Jordan—Ronan because the bear was huge, formidable, and trustworthy, and Nate because he knew Gavan and could anticipate the kinds of things he’d pull. The Morrissey family was not to so much as set foot on the porch until everything was settled. Ronan and Nate, though they both worked for Liam too, understood.

A good chunk of the Morrissey family was here tonight anyway. Sean had come with Ellison to watch, Connor tagging along with them. Dylan was a regular fighter, already gearing up for his first match in the far ring, and his mate Glory had come to watch him.

Spike didn’t see Gavan yet, but there was no doubt he’d be there. He wasn’t one to put plans in motion from afar. He liked to sniff around, which meant he often got in his own way. So much the better.

Myka was excited, all smiles, easily laughing. The Shifters would think she was keyed up and turned on to watch her mate-to-be fight, and didn’t Spike want that to be true? Myka ready to celebrate with him when he won, fuss over him if he lost? She’d put her arms around him and comfort him after a lost bout, telling him she’d like him even if he couldn’t lift a bear over his head and throw him across the ring.

Spike had come to the fights every week up until now because nothing else had mattered to him. Now many other things mattered, and he saw that fighting was only something he’d been doing to fill the empty spaces in his life.

Those spaces were no longer empty. He’d found Jordan, and now Myka. Myka liked Spike the man, not Spike the fighting cat. She liked Eron.

After tonight, all would be settled. Time to start.

Spike’s first opponent was a Lupine from San Antonio. He was big guy with shaggy black hair, but Myka saw in his eyes that he hadn’t expected to be pitted against Spike and didn’t think he’d win.

Spike turned his back on the Lupine and stripped off at the side of the ring, dropping his clothes on a stool. He stood up, six-feet-six of glorious naked male, the dragon tatt embracing his back, its tail curving around his bare buttocks and left hip.

He was a beautiful man. He curled one arm around Myka, drew her to him, and gave her an open-mouthed kiss. The Shifters nearby cheered.

Myka touched Spike’s face, wanting to tell him to be careful, but that seemed a silly thing to say. This was a fight. “Get him,” she whispered instead.

Spike flashed her a hot smile then stepped over the circle of cinder blocks, stretching his arms over his head then shaking them out.

The refs stood between Spike and the Lupine until each nodded that he was ready. Then the refs backed away, one yelling, “Fight!”