Delgado snorted and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’m not so sure the great savage wolf has much fight left in him. Did you run away all those years ago? Too afraid of dying? As much as I love having you in my possession, I’m not a stupid man. Anyone who is of no use to me I sell on the black market. There are plenty of buyers who think they can turn defects into champions. One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.”
A storm funneled within Wheeler, one so powerful it could have shattered the chain on his wrist. The thought of Naya in a place like this—broken the way he had once been broken—polluted his thoughts.
“I have money,” Wheeler offered. “You’re a man who talks the language of currency, and I’m a man who knows how to get it. I have a solid reputation in the world of finance. If you’re doing this for money, then you’d be a fucking idiot to throw away a lottery ticket.”
Delgado’s gaze drifted elsewhere as if he was considering it. “That’s a tempting offer, but I can’t use you for both. I’m guaranteed money if I put you in the cage.”
“I can earn you ten times that in other ways.”
Delgado’s brow arched. “Can you prove that? Can you promise that?”
“No, but I can’t promise I’ll win your next fight either,” he subtly threatened.
“I host the fights, so I’ll profit regardless of who wins or loses. I run an exclusive club where you pay to play, but some like to keep their hands clean and just watch, so they pay more. You’re the kind of starring attraction that would earn me a huge profit. I’ve made this into an upscale affair from the days in the dungeon. I throw a party; we have drinks, mingle, smoke cigars, and watch a good fight. It’s an elite club, and profitable. Some of the men pay extra for time alone with our girls. That’s an added perk.”
“Let her go!” Wheeler roared, kicking at the bars. “I’ll fucking tear off your head if you touch her.”
When Delgado chuckled, the line in his cheek deepened. “Oh, I’m not going to touch her, Mr. Cole. I’m leaving the honors to you once she wakes up from the tranquilizer. Save your energy for the cage. See you in”—he glanced at his watch and then winked—“three hours.”
Chapter 22
From the time I came to consciousness, I only had a few seconds to look around before someone jerked me to my feet.
“Move your ass,” he barked. “Your three-hour nap is up.”
I followed, still half-asleep, struggling to understand what was happening. Bars. Rows and rows of bars. A flickering light. I had been stripped down to my bra and panties. Maybe I’m dreaming. When I closed my eyes and slowed down, I felt a sharp yank on my neck.
Ow! My fingers clawed at a thick piece of metal beneath my jaw, and that’s the moment I blinked wide-awake. Not only did I have a heavy manacle around my neck, but a man was leading me forward by the chain attached to it. I resisted, gripping the links so he couldn’t jerk it again.
But he did, and when he picked up his stride, I stumbled and tried to keep from falling.
“Better wake her up,” a man with a heavy British accent said. “Here, let me.”
A cold splash of water drenched my face, and I choked in a series of coughs. Some of it had gone up my nose, and I shuddered at the icy contact with my skin.
“They like it when we wet the girls down before a fight.”
“Moreland?” I croaked, looking around for Lorenzo’s packmate.
When the guard jerked the chain, my panther snarled at me to fight back. I kicked the man in the lower back and he buckled, falling to his knees. When I got some slack on the chain, I pulled enough of it to wrap around his neck. He was tall, but I tried with everything I had in me to hang on.
The man who had splashed me with water snaked his arms around my waist and yanked me off. “Told you we should have shackled her hands,” he said. “Delgado said she’s a panther.”
The other man coughed and unraveled the chain from his neck. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
“Let me go,” I growled. “I’ll shift and tear your limbs from your body.”
The man I had strangled choked out a laugh. “Just try it, honey. The collar is locked tight for a reason.”
I kicked at him while the man holding me started to move forward. He had my arms pinned against my body within his crushing grip. Oh my God, this was Delgado’s psychotic house of horrors.
“Moreland!” I yelled. And then something else occurred to me. “Wheeler!”
We passed a cell and a young woman with blond curls looked at me with frightened eyes. She backed away from the bars and sat down, holding her knees. Another cage held a pale man with scars all over his body, and the next cell contained what looked like a murderer. His eyes were vacant as he watched us move past. It was as if I’d witnessed the progression of a cage fighter in five seconds.
“I want to speak to Delgado,” I demanded. “Tell him Naya James is asking to see him. Tell him—”
“You can tell him yourself,” the man ahead of me said.