Burning Bright (24 page)

“Go to Neal or Paul if they give you any grief,” Steve advised.

Anton shrugged. “I know I’m in odd position, one of the bachelor tribe but not really one of the unit. I do not want to get in the way.”

“You could hang out here,” Sasha offered.

Anton looked at Steve before adverting his gaze. “I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay.” Steve sighed. “And it’s okay to look at me too. We don’t see direct eye contact as a challenge. Otherwise we’d all be smacking each other around constantly.”

“It is also a sign of respect.”

Sasha noted the slight chastising tone and hid his smile. In that instant he
could
picture Anton in the role of teacher.

“Well, you’re usually more relaxed around me. Are the others making you wiggy?”

“It is common for a hurt shifter, especially one that holds status, to be challenged when he is in a weakened condition.”

This time Sasha couldn’t hide his mirth. The older man practically reeked of disapproval. Sasha caught Steve hiding a grin behind a hand over his mouth. Sasha looked back at Anton, and the older man’s hazel eyes flashed amber like a cat’s eyes in a flashlight. Only there for an instant, the glimpse of Anton’s beast chilled him.

The image of Clark Kent floated to mind, with his glasses and the fact he hid in plain sight, but this man’s bland demeanor hid something far more scary. He looked closer at the muscles that packed the stocky frame. Used to Neal’s men, Sasha almost overlooked Anton’s strength.

Steve interrupted his reverie. “Well, since you did bring me a gun, I think you’re not out to get me.” His eyes widened. “Aw crap. That’s why Neal wants me tucked away over here.”

Anton smirked. “He does have enough to worry about.”

That caught Sasha’s attention. “Why? Now that he has more tigers, the challenge is even. Did something else happen?”

“Testosterone, remember?” Anton did another eye roll. “All the warrior tigers are mostly untried and do not dare test themselves against Boris. But Neal is an untried alpha in their opinion. Someone is bound to test him. Most likely Grig.”

“Who’s Grig?” Already Sasha didn’t like him.

“The home tribe’s third. He’s who Boris appointed leader of the visiting tigers.”

“Lovely,” Steve growled.

Sasha did as well, but with his stomach. Steve laughed as he flushed with embarrassment. It had been
loud
.

“I could get you something,” Anton offered. “I should have thought of it.”

“No that’s okay. In fact, if you don’t mind, you can keep Steve company and I’ll stretch my legs while I grab food.”

“Arrange for an escort,” Anton advised. “You would be an easy excuse to push Neal’s buttons.”

“He’s right, Doc,” Steve soothed. “Let me get on the radio. It’s not forever, just while they’re here.”

Sasha grumbled, but agreed. These new tigers better not be more trouble than they were worth.

“Hey, Doc,” TJ greeted in his soft voice.

Sasha got a quick impression of hazel green eyes and then TJ looked away. “Hi. I guess I need a babysitter.”

TJ’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. Sorry about that. These guys are a pain in the ass.”

He laughed, not expecting that.

“How you feelin’?” TJ asked Steve.

“Fantastic,” Steve said expansively. “I’ve got my own personal doctor, my own gun, and a goddamn bed. How the fuck you think I’m doing?”

TJ looked at Sasha. “Can’t you do something to fix his personality?”

Sasha’s eyes widened and he grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Anton.” TJ sounded neutral.

“Teej.”

TJ frowned, but didn’t comment on Anton’s use of his nickname. It surprised Sasha. With as traditional as Anton seemed to be, why use the intimate address now? The use of a nickname indicated either close friendship or a dominance relationship. Was Anton making a point to TJ?

TJ turned toward the door. “You ready?”

“I’m starving,” Sasha said.

“You can hear his stomach from across the street,” Steve agreed.

Sasha flushed with embarrassment. Lately all he seemed to be was hungry or sleepy. If this shit with the Russians didn’t finish soon, he feared becoming an overweight narcoleptic.

TJ laughed. “Well, we’d better fix that. Can’t have a hungry Doc on our hands, never know what he might do.”

“Funny,” Sasha snapped. “You guys want anything?”

“No, thanks, babe,” Steve responded.

Anton shook his head.

Sasha rubbed Steve’s leg by way of farewell and followed TJ out.

“Let me grab something,” TJ murmured, stopping at his apartment across the hall. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.”

Sasha nodded. “Sounds good.”

TJ’s grin flicked on and off and he slipped through the door. Stomach growling, Sasha continued downstairs to grab food. How bad could it be? TJ wouldn’t be long. Sasha refused to let these bullies scare him out of his own home.

The restaurant seemed full when he walked down the stairs. The new tigers made enough noise that it didn’t feel “closed for renovation”. As he paused a few steps from the bottom, several of the men turned to watch him. It didn’t seem like being watched at a bar. Instead, it reminded him of a gazelle on a plain full of predators.

Maybe he should have waited for TJ…

“Come on,
Belii
,” a voice rang out.

Belii
was the Russian word for white and his heart sank. Sure enough, two men, obviously twins, blocked Dillon’s progress across the restaurant. Dillon’s eyes met his and Sasha clearly read the fear in them, even without the empathy.

“Come on,
Belii
,” a rough voice wheedled. “We want some relief.”

“Let
go
of me, Koyla.” Dillon sounded like he had tears in his voice.

Sasha started forward in time to see one of the twins grab Dillon’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Sasha shouted angrily.

Everyone froze.

“Doc,” Dillon cried, tears shining on his cheeks and his face flushed and angry. Poor guy cried when he was pissed, like Sasha.

Dillon wrenched himself free and streaked over to stand behind him. The huge man lumbered after him. Sasha’s anger carried him down the last steps and right up to the big Russian.

“This your idea of manners, Kolya?” he snapped in Russian.

“He’s your relief, isn’t he?” Kolya protested. “We only wanted to mess around.”

His twin came up, eyes wide and confused. “Yeah. We weren’t gonna hurt him.”

Five of the home tribe tigers clustered around him, blocking him from moving deeper into the room or retreating back upstairs. His stomach tightened. “You can’t treat him like that,” he told them firmly.

“What about you?” Kolya asked, reaching out to stroke his hair.

Sasha slapped his hand away. “Fuck off.”

“Doc…” Dillon said urgently.

He turned his head in time to see a big man stalk out of the men’s room and look over. Their eyes met. The big Russian’s cold blue eyes, like chips of glass or glacier ice, widened and he smiled. This must be Grig.

Fuck.

“Dillon, go upstairs. TJ’s up there,” Sasha ordered.

Dillon started up but Kolya caught his arm. The werefox pulled back but Kolya tightened his grip and yanked the smaller man completely off the stair to land in a heap at his feet. Several of the others laughed. Dillon stared up at him, his eyes huge and glassy, and held his arm like it pained him.

“What the fuck?” TJ’s shout echoed through the restaurant from the landing above. He put a hand down and vaulted clear down the entire flight of stairs to land on his feet next to Sasha. He spun and landed a heavy kick in the center of Kolya’s chest. The heavier man flew away to land in a pile of limbs near Grig. TJ whipped forward and the other twin stumbled away, blood spattering his chin from his nose.

Grig roared something inarticulate and started forward. Sasha stepped between him and TJ. “Stop.” He threw his arms up. “This is stupid. Stop!”

Grig smirked and glared own at him. “Stupid, huh?”

Sasha switched to Russian. “You don’t need to do that. You have what you want already, back off.”

“Doc…” TJ groaned. “Shut up.”

“No, Doc, keep going,” Grig purred.

TJ sighed and stepped in front of Sasha. “Fine. You wanna dance, let’s dance.”

Grig whipped forward and TJ went heavily to one knee, blood dripping from his face. Sasha hadn’t even seen Grig draw a knife, and then he looked down to see Grig’s claws.

“Get back, Doc.” TJ shoved him in the hip with one big hand. He stood, blocking Sasha’s view of Grig and the rest of the room.

“Grig.” Paul’s voice rang out from the kitchen.

Everyone froze, except Grig. Sasha watched the hunger in the visiting weretiger’s eyes. He played right into the big man’s hands, dammit. He went cold from his stomach out.

TJ whirled and grabbed him. “Keep Dillon safe, Doc.” TJ shook Sasha, his eyes frightened.

Sasha blinked and glanced at the werefox, watching the fight with huge eyes.

“I will,” Sasha promised. With a howitzer, he added in his mind. He backed up the stairs, taking Dillon with him.

Paul stepped forward. “Knock it the fuck off,” he growled.

Grig grinned, his head back and chest puffed out. “Or what?”

One of the twins took a step closer and grabbed Dillon’s arm, hauling him out from behind Sasha. The werefox yanked back but couldn’t dislodge him. His face flushed and he started crying, but more from anger than fear, Sasha could feel through his empathy.

“Knock it off,” Paul shouted.

Along with his voice came a wave of heat that tingled all up and down Sasha’s arms. He’d never sensed anything like it. The shifter gasped and dropped Dillon’s arm, and stepped away from him for good measure.

Grig, though, walked forward. He strained against Paul’s energy, Sasha could tell by the way his muscles corded, but he didn’t look like he’d stop.

And then Neal walked in.

“That’s it,” Neal snapped. “Let’s settle this for once and for all. Grig, upstairs, now.”

“I—”

“I’m not asking!” Neal roared.

Grig glared. He said nothing, just walked over and stabbed the elevator button with an angry finger.

Looked like the cavalry arrived.

Dammit. Sasha’s stomach growled again, now that all the excitement was over. He clenched his jaw and turned to Dillon. “Let’s go.”

Stomping up the stairs satisfied him, but he’d better get food right away.

Or, he might change his mind about being vegetarian. Tiger meat sounded pretty good, right then.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Leader of the Krug

Sasha walked up the stairs and Dillon came with him, but stumbled on the top step. He made a sharp noise, like a sob, and Sasha glanced over. Sure enough, Dillon kept crying, anger and frustration pouring off his slender body in waves.

The werefox didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Sasha pretended he didn’t see and kept going.

“Use my place,” TJ said from behind him.

Sasha turned. “You sure?”

TJ nodded. “He can get to the internet from my computer, or relax.”

“Thanks, Teej,” Dillon said softly.

TJ didn’t answer, just slipped past them and went up the stairs to Neal’s floor, clearly on his way to the vacant area to keep an eye on the fight.

Dillon, clearly frustrated, sighed. “You gonna watch the fight?”

“I’d like to, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” Dillon soothed. “You should go.”

All the tigers would be upstairs, watching the fight. No one would want to trouble Dillon, not while Grig and Neal fought each other. No, even the twins would want to see the outcome. Of course, if Neal lost, it would be a different story. But that would never happen.

Sasha made up his mind. “Make sure you lock the door.”

Sasha took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor. All the tigers gathered in the large, undeveloped space. He stood inside the door, away from the fight but where he could see easily. TJ, on the other side of the doorway, glanced at him and then back at the fight. On the other side of TJ, Anton and the two boys stood watching. Mitch, leaning to the wall beyond them, seemed bored.

Neal’s apartment was the only finished section of this floor. They never needed more room and stopped renovating. Instead, mats like at a martial arts dojo were spread around to practice on. Sasha could tell at a glance that this didn’t qualify as a friendly practice match.

Neal wore only black cargo pants. His bare feet gripped the mat like a second pair of hands and his torso gleamed with sweat. Gods, but he looked good.

Sasha’s heart sped up, though, watching the hungry look on Grig’s face as he paced around Neal, looking for an opening. Grig’s chest hair lay lank to his body, sweaty and curling, and he had several bruises already. He spun and kicked Neal’s hip and the big Marine staggered. Grig moved in, but Sasha had practiced the same feint and rooted for Neal. Sure enough, the minute Grig got within range, Neal swept his feet from under him and the tiger went flying onto his back.

Grig rolled, though, and got out of Neal’s reach. He tried another roundhouse kick and Neal caught his foot in his hands, his muscles bulging. He yanked Grig forward, off balance, and threw him bodily across the mat.

The tiger rolled and growled, a low and threatening sound that raised every hair on Sasha’s arms.

His empathy awakened and he could see Grig’s tiger juxtaposed over the man, his tail lashing with anger.

“What do you see?” Mitch asked from his elbow, startling him.

“Shut up, Mitch,” Sasha snapped. “I’m concentrating.”

“Is he cheating?”

“What?” Sasha glanced at him. “How?”

“I don’t know, by using magic or something?”

“No. Shut up and watch the fight.”

Neal crouched, his arms out, and beckoned Grig forward. “Let’s dance, cowboy.”

Grig snarled and his hands lengthened into long, black claws. He threw his head back and roared, the sound deafening in the enclosed space.

“The neighbors are gonna freak,” Mitch muttered. “They’re not gonna keep believing it’s television.”