Ellie's Wolf (5 page)

“Oh,” said Sara again in a tone full of understanding. “The husband you shot?”

Mel shot her an annoyed glance. “He’s the only one I’ve had.”

“And these guys are pissed off about that?”

Sara’s tone didn’t quite make it a question.

“Just a bit.” Sarcasm rose and crashed into impotent fury. “If they win me, they’ll torture me. Kill me.”

Sara exchanged a look with Ellie. “Well, they won’t win,” the teenager said briskly. “Ellie’s cousin is going to come and fix everything, right, Ellie?”

“Right.”

Later, lying on the uncomfortable bed in the dark, Ellie prayed as fervently as she ever had in her life for a miracle.

* * * *

The Bride Fights were nothing like Ellie had expected. Years ago, when Taye had won his wife in a Bride Fight, Ellie thought it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard of. This was not romantic.

She, Sara, and Mel were locked in a small dark closet just off what had been the high school gymnasium in the years before terrorists had destroyed the world. It was too dark for them to see each other, but Ellie could imagine the anger on Mel’s face and the disgust on Sara’s. The raucous noise of hundreds of men out in the gym was so loud that Ellie could barely hear Mel’s inventive cursing.

“Can you see anything?” Ellie asked Sara.

Sara, kneeling on the floor, with her eye peering through the narrow slots at the bottom of the door, grumbled. “Just a bunch of muddy boots and legs.” She straightened up with a grunt, and one of her elbows jabbed into Ellie’s side. “I told you we should have run away. It would have been nice of your cousin to show up.”

Ellie rubbed the rib Sara’s elbow had poked. “Taye must be on his way. He’ll get here.”

“Unless Jeremy didn’t make it to him,” Sara countered disagreeably. “Anything could have happened to him. His horse could have fallen on him. He could have been attacked by outlaws.”

Fear rumbled through Ellie’s stomach. As soon as he knew she was in trouble, Taye would come for her. Ellie had no doubt about that. But, if he hadn’t received the message, she would find herself married to a stranger within a few hours. She could still get a message to Taye, and he would find a way to get her released from an unwanted marriage. Ellie’s shoulders twitched. Taye would make her a widow without hesitating, but Ellie didn’t want to be responsible for a man’s death.

“Taye is coming,” she said firmly.

“Well, he’d better hurry up.”

Ellie breathed another silent prayer.

Sara said to Mel, “Would you shut up? I’m trying to hear what’s going on out there.”

Mel finished her latest round of swearing with, “And I want my gun back, dammit! If any of those bastard Fosses win, I’m gonna shoot him.”

Ellie didn’t blame Mel for wanting her gun. She almost wished she had one herself.

A cheer that vibrated the closet door rose outside in the gym. “I guess something’s about to get started,” said Mel grimly.

The door of the closet opened to slice a swath of light through the darkness. Sara backed up, her boot heel grinding Ellie’s toes into the floor.

“This way, ladies,” the mayor bawled at them, barely audible over the cheering crowd.

Ellie limped out behind Sara, her toes still stinging. The noise of the men was deafening. It hit her like a cold wave even though the room was warm, followed immediately by the stench of unwashed bodies sweating liberally. There was a stage at the far end of the gym, with a large square marked by poles and ropes, and the mayor led them up the steps on one side to stand at the center in front of the ring so everyone could see them.

The mayor was as slovenly as his house. His thinning brown hair lay in a greasy wave over his shiny forehead, showing as much gray as his stubbly chin. His button-up shirt may have been white once, but it was gray now, except for yellow circles, which were revealed when he raised his arms to get the crowd’s attention.

“Quiet down, gentlemen!” the mayor screamed. “Quiet down!”

Gradually, the roar died to a low rumble, and the hundreds of men on the gym floor all turned their faces to look at the three women. Ellie despised the tremble in her hands. Clenching them didn’t quite control it. She searched the faces in the crowd, praying to see Taye’s among them, but he wasn’t here. She tried to control her speeding heart.

Oh, God, why isn’t he here
?

“The preliminary fights are done,” shouted the mayor. “Everybody fought well, but only the fifteen highest ranking fighters are moving onto the final round. We’re dividing them into three groups of five by the luck of the draw. Five men, every man for himself, will fight each other. Whichever man is still standing at the end will choose which woman he wants to have. Gentlemen, are you ready? Come on up here and draw your number.”

The crowd of men roared and stomped their feet as several of them pushed their way to the stage. Ellie felt Mel grab her hand and hold it in a death grip. Two of the men who strutted across the stage were her brothers-in-law. The third one wasn’t there. He must not have made the final cut. One of them smiled as he curled his hand into a gun shape and pointed it at Mel.

“Bang, you’re dead,” he mouthed as he passed them.

“I swear, I’m gonna kill him,” Mel vowed in a voice that shook. “Just let me get my hands on my gun.”

“They’re not going to give you your gun,” Sara said, raising her voice to be heard over the spectators.

Ellie looked at the fifteen men gathered around the mayor. Their shirtless state showed most of them were bruised, and some bleeding, from the fights that had gone on while the women were locked in the closet. Ellie stared hard at the back of one. His black hair was in one long, thick braid, folded and tied in a neat bundle at the back of his neck. It would have made him look feminine, like a woman with her long hair in a low bun, except his shoulders were far too broad to look feminine. He wasn’t Taye. Her cousin wore his hair short, or had when she’d last seen him, and his hair wouldn’t have grown that much in only three years. But this man might be Native American, so he reminded her of Taye.

Each man reached a hand into the bag the mayor held and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“All right,” said the mayor after all the men and drawn a paper. “Number ones, over on that end of the stage. Twos, here in the center. Threes, over on the other end of the stage.”

The men opened their papers to see which group they were in and moved to the appropriate spot according to the number on the paper they had drawn. Mel cursed when she saw that both Fosse brothers were in Group One.

“If either of those jackals wins, they’ll pick me.”

“Maybe they’ll kill each other,” Sara said in a consoling tone.

Mel snorted.

As the man who reminded her of Taye turned to go to join Group Three, his gaze shot to Ellie with a smile. Her heart jerked against her breastbone. She knew him! She hadn’t seen him in three years, but she was sure it was Jelly, one of Taye’s youngest friends. He must be eighteen or nineteen now. What was he doing here? Had Taye sent him? But why would Taye send someone so young? Ellie thought the other four men that Jelly would be fighting looked as though they were in their thirties, all thick with muscle, whose hard faces and scarred bodies showed they had years of fighting experience behind them. Jelly was broad-shouldered, but slender and lithely built.

Sara noticed her stare. “Found one you like?” she said with a sniff.

“No…yes. That’s one of my cousin’s men.”

Sara craned her head to watch Jelly take his place with his group. “He’s just a kid!”

“I know.” The relief she’d first felt at seeing Jelly was swallowed by helplessness. Where was Taye?

Mel had her arms folded over her chest. “The kid must be a good fighter. He wouldn’t have made it to the finals if he wasn’t. I wouldn’t mind him for a husband. Better than Jim or Steve.”

“He’s a little young for you.” Sara looked out at the men on the gym floor. “So, where’s your cousin, El?”

“I don’t know. I don’t see him.”

Sara made a rude sound in her throat. “This is the best he could do? Send a teenager to rescue us?”

Ellie didn’t answer. She had just noticed a man in Group Two staring intensely at her. That wasn’t strange. All the men had stared at the women. This one didn’t look at either Sara or Mel at all, though, and his attention on her face was fiercely unwavering. He was tall and well made, with golden brown hair pulled severely back from his face into a ponytail at his nape. His eyebrows were elegant wings over narrowed eyes. She returned his stare, searching his darkly tanned face, but she didn’t recognize him. Did she? That full, curved mouth did seem familiar.

The mayor stepped between them, blocking her view. “Here are the rules,” he announced, loudly enough that everyone could hear him plainly. “All five men in the group will enter the ring. They will fight each other until only one man is left standing. A fighter who steps out of the ring or touches the rope is disqualified. If a fighter is down for three consecutive seconds, he is out. Knives are the only weapon allowed. Anything goes. Do you understand?”

The fighters all nodded or muttered agreement.

“All right then.” The mayor blew out a breath. “Ladies, if you would step to the rear to give the audience a clear view of the fighters? Yes, right there. Group Three, move to the left of the stage. Group Two, move over to the right of the stage. Thank you. Group One, you have five minutes to prepare for your fight.”

Ellie stood between Mel and Sara behind the roped-off fighting square. The pain in her toes pulsed faintly in time with her pounding heart. After a few minutes of stretching, the five men in Group One, including Mel’s two brothers-in-law, strutted over to the women. One man paused to reach a hand to touch Ellie’s hair. As she ducked from his hand, she heard a low growl from the right side of the stage. Jelly? No, Jelly was on the left. When she looked that way, she saw the man who had been staring at her earlier glaring murderously at the man who’d tried to touch her.

Who was he?

“Ready, Group One?” the mayor roared to be heard over the increasing noise of the crowd.

The five men ducked under the rope into the square. Two other men, who Ellie guessed were referees, came to stand at opposite corners of the square.

The mayor held up a brass hand bell. “May the best man win!” he shouted, giving the bell a vigorous shake.

The roar of the crowd almost drowned out the hearty clang of the bell. All five of the men leapt at each other. Ellie couldn’t watch. The sight of a Fosse brother biting off the ear of one of the other men was too brutal for her to bear. After that, she kept her eyes on the floor. Mel was clearly watching, though, because Ellie could hear her swearing and muttering her hope that the Fosse brothers would lose.

Sara said, “Those two guys are ganging up on the other three. Is that allowed? Hey, ref!” she shouted. “Is that allowed?”

Apparently it was allowed. The mayor had said anything goes. Ellie peeked up in time to see only three men were left in the fight, and both of the Fosses were attacking the third man. When he went down, bleeding copiously from multiple stab wounds, one of the brothers purposely leaned on the rope to disqualify himself.

“The winner of Group One is Jim Fosse!” bellowed the mayor.

“Fuck!” Mel’s fury was tinged with frantic fear as both brothers converged on her.

The crowd was so loud that if Ellie hadn’t been standing right there she wouldn’t have heard what the brothers said.

“That’s no kind of language for a lady to use,” said one, wiping at the bloody sweat at his hairline. “Of course, we all know you’re not a lady, you murderous bitch.”

The other grabbed one of Mel’s wrists in a tight grip. “Come along now, Mrs. Fosse, we have a suite reserved at the hotel for our wedding night.”

Mel swung her free fist at his face, but the other brother grabbed it. “Feisty? I like it. More fun breaking a feisty filly, right, Jim?”

“Right.”

Sara gave a garbled shout of outrage and jumped on the back of the nearest man, flailing her fists into his face. Ellie stared with a mix of horror and admiration and started toward them, but before she had gotten more than a step, the two referees and the mayor ran up and pried Sara off.

“You stay put,” the mayor snapped at Sara.

The glare she gave him should have curled his hair. “They’re going to hurt her!” she shouted.

The crowd fell almost silent, straining to see and hear what was going on.

The mayor swiped a hand over his shiny forehead. “That’s none of our business. They paid their entry fee and won the lady. Gentlemen, you can take your bride away now.”

It took both the Fosse brothers, but Mel was carried, fighting and screaming, off the stage and into the cheering crowd. Ellie wanted scream too. Sara did scream, but the noise was loud enough to cover it.

“Damn it,” Sara said, squeezing Ellie’s hand. “We should have run away! I knew we should have run away!”

Ellie squeezed back. “No, everything’s going to be okay. Jelly is here.”

“What good is one snot-nosed kid going to do us?”

That was a good question. “I don’t know, but if Jelly is here, other members of the Pack might be too. They’ll take care of us. And I know they’ll help Mel too.”

“Pack? Pack of what? Wild dogs?”

Ellie hesitated. “Actually, they’re wolves.” Her father had called them devil-spawned demons who had stolen his sister, but Ellie knew they weren’t. Taye loved his mate tenderly. He might be fierce and even dangerous, but no one who showed women such gentle respect was evil. “Haven’t you ever heard of the Lakota Wolf Clan?”

“Nope. Should I have?”

“Well, where I’m from, everyone has heard of them.” The Clan’s women had been stolen and murdered over twenty years ago, and the vengeance the Clan had taken was a story men still told each other. “Everyone knows not to bother their women.”

Sara flicked her hair off her cheek with an impatient finger. “What can they do when we’re won and raped by whatever guys win us?”

Murder wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. “I just hope the Pack doesn’t make us widows.”