The houses were spread apart with a few acres of property surrounding each one. The dirtbag lived in a one-story brick that looked a few decades old. He didn’t have a garage, only a carport cover with a white car sheltered beneath. A few poisonous vines crawled up one of the live oaks to their right, and the driveway was cracked and narrow.
Jericho twisted off his rings. “Does he have a family?”
“What the hell kind of woman would mate with a guy like that? No, Reno did a check. He lives alone with a cat. I hate those damn things.”
The front door violently swung open, and a middle-aged man emerged with a shotgun in one hand, stalking toward their car. “You two had better get the fuck off my property!”
“And boom goes the dynamite,” Wheeler said, exiting the vehicle.
Jericho hopped out of the car and kept a steady pace ahead of Wheeler so this asshole knew who was gunning for him. The man had a shaved head and looked pretty seasoned for a Shifter. The small tattoo on his hand was nothing compared to the grotesque skull with black wings inked across his chest.
“You better step back and tell me your business before I blast a hole in your chest,” the man said.
“I’m Jericho, and you tried to snuff out my woman.”
He pursed his lips as if recalling a memory. “The redhead, huh?” He sized Jericho up with his beady eyes. “Are you what I think you are?”
“You mean badass?” Jericho took off his necklace with the ring on it and handed it to Wheeler. “Keep this.” Then he peeled off his tank top and approached the man. “Tell me your name.”
The man raised the shotgun and shifted his stance. “Shane. You plan on taking me out on a date now?” Shane belted out a villainous laugh.
“Put the gun down, and let’s settle this like men.”
“Why should I?”
“Because a Shifter with a gun is nothing but a * with a weak animal. Nobody messes with my girl and walks away alive.”
Shane’s thumb stroked the barrel of the gun, his gaze traveling between them. “How do I know your friend there isn’t going to join in?”
“I’m not into threesomes,” Wheeler said. “What’s the matter, can’t hold your own?”
Jericho turned around. “Get in the car. Stay there, no matter what happens.”
“I’m not leaving you out here, baby bro.”
“Yeah, you are. Get in the damn car. This is my battle to fight, so the pack stays out.”
Wheeler stroked the hair on his chin, contemplating the request. “Fine. But you realize if something goes wrong, then brother or not, Austin will toss me out of the pack for watching it go down?”
“You two need a moment for good-bye kisses?” Shane asked.
Jericho inched in close and lowered his voice. “Look, Wheeler, we both know you love a good fight, but this one’s mine.”
“You don’t have official claim on Izzy.”
“I’ve had claim on that girl for decades. Just get in the car.”
Wheeler stalked toward the Camaro and got in, slamming the door and staring through the windshield as he moved his mouth, talking to himself.
Jericho turned to face his enemy. “Put down the gun and let’s do this.”
A crooked smile curved up Shane’s cheek as he put the safety back on the gun and set it on the ground. “Only one animal walks out alive, so feel free to put your tail between your legs and go back home. I don’t fight for honor or fun—I fight to kill.” He kicked off his motorcycle boots and unlatched his belt. “And by the way, I’m not a wolf.”
***
Wheeler gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. Maybe it was Jericho’s fight, but a pack fought together. Then again, what dignity would Jericho have if someone else won his battles? Wheeler didn’t understand the whole “fighting for love” bit, except it must have been some irrational instinct in their wolves that couldn’t be controlled. No woman was worth dying for, except his mother.
He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. Jericho approached Shane and must have been at least a foot taller than the man. Through the open window, a smoky scent hung in the air, as if someone had been burning trash. Threats turned into curses and the men circled each other, eyes alight and lips peeled back. Without warning, Jericho shifted. His wolf stood on top of a pile of clothes, teeth bared and body stiff, ready to attack.
At first, Wheeler thought Shane might go for the gun. Maybe his animal was a deer and he just talked a good game. Wheeler tensed, ready to jump out of the car if that dumb shit decided to do something stupid. Instead, he shifted, and Wheeler spat out a curse.
Shane was a black bear.
Had he been a grizzly, this would have quickly escalated into a pack fight. Luckily, the bear wasn’t as big as some that Wheeler had seen in his time. That didn’t make his sharp claws and teeth any less capable of tearing through flesh and cutting bone, though.
They circled each other beneath a canopy of moonlight, the fierce bear swiping his massive paw as Jericho’s wolf bowed his head, seeking an angle of attack. He pounced a few times, snarling and growling, testing the bear’s reflexes.