Chapter 10: Bianca - Punch - Change

Bianca
Punch

“You see that?” Maria placed her hand on my shoulder and pointed to the muscular man holding his face. He fell to the ground an instant later, screaming profanities at the top of his lungs. “Sure, it worked, he’s out. But look at his opponent,” she added, nodding at the still-standing man covered in green paint. His arms were raised in victory, but the grimace on his face told a different story. “He must have broken his hand with that hit.”

I nodded in response to her observation, for, in fact, I did see. The closed-shaved blonde with angry eyes was physically the same class as his foe, but had clearly underestimated the necessity of proper form regardless of being evenly matched.

He might have won, but at what cost?

It was fair to say that things were much different here in the underworld street fighting rings than I’d expected. For example, professional boxers knew how to correctly hold their fists when punching, but these street fighters were clearly a different breed.

“You could do it better,” I told her.

“I know!” Maria raised her hands in the air in exasperation. I’d never seen her so passionate about anything except maybe our slumber party and Pretty Pretty Princess and…

Well, actually, this seemed to be a normal state for her.

“It just pains me to watch.” She shook her head.

“So, what do we need to do?” I was half-asking, half-talking to myself.

The extent of my knowledge about the more illegal fighting rings came from a bear-shifter comic I’d once read. The underestimated hero provoked fights simply by existing. And, despite his misplaced confidence in his self-taught boxing, he’d always been pummeled during the first half. However, usually an illogical burst of strength—along with an inspirational self-monologue—would give the hero the strength to win the day.

It was quite popular, but I couldn’t imagine why.

“We need to find out who’s in charge.” Maria crossed her arms as she glared around the room. “There’s usually some sort of payment to enter these things, and—”

“Go punch that guy.” I pushed at her shoulder, nodding toward a giant, hulking brunette half-hiding in the other end of the busy room. He didn’t notice that he’d become the subject of our attention and chose that moment to spit his chew onto the floor.

His aim was off—which bode well for us—and the tobacco landed on the shoe of the person standing next to him.

The spit-on person took offense, rounding on the offender. But it seemed our target could, at least, throw a proper punch, and he’d knocked his opponent into the wall within a second.

The saliva-covered man fell to the ground, unconscious.

“He’s perfect,” I told the lioness. He wasn’t a weakling either, which would cause Maria’s popularity to fabulously skyrocket.

She could have the violence and recognition she longed for, while I could stay safely hidden in the background, making our dreams a reality.

My pulse was soaring already, and my stomach fluttered with nerves.

This was so exciting.

“I don’t know.” Maria pursed her lips, giving the man a once over. She didn’t seem to be impressed by his prowess. “It seems too easy. I’m looking for more of a challenge. What about him?” She flippantly motioned toward a banner hanging over the ring as if even that wasn’t enough. On it was a fuzzy picture of a man in a red suit. He had multicolored hair, streaked with variations of purple and orange, and his facial features were covered by a striking black mask. Under the photo, in a zig-zag font that was more childish than impressive, was the alias: Skull Crusher.

I was hesitant to break it to her, especially seeing as the newly formed bonds of our friendship were so new, but…

“He’s okay, I guess.” And he probably could fight too, since he appeared to be the reigning champion and all that. But usually those who had the most respect weren’t the ones who posed in flashy costumes for badly illustrated banners.

We needed someone like our tobacco spitting friend.

As we’d been watching him, he’d already turned down at least three offers to step into the ring. Yet was strong enough to knock a man out with one hit. If Maria wanted to start somewhere meaningful, she had to get him to spar with her. It would show that she was particular about who she fought while showcasing her strength.

“Ignore him for now,” I told her, pulling her attention away from the banner. The room was loud, and growing louder, but she seemed to have no trouble keeping up with the conversation. “Challenge the spitter.”

“The spitter?” Maria raised her eyebrow as she gave me a dubious look. “Is that his name?”

I shrugged. Who knew, I had no idea what to call him yet. “We’ll see.”

“But what…” Maria began, then raised her hand to cover her smile. She cleared her throat, her tone serious as she reclaimed her sentence. “What exactly am I supposed to do?”

Wasn’t it obvious? Then again, this was why I was the manager.

“Get him to fight you,” I explained. “But try not to hurt him too badly. Just make it look good. Then win. After that, we’ll need to mysteriously disappear.”

“But why?” Maria pointed to a folding table set up to our left. “I’m pretty sure that’s the ring manager right there. We can just sign up—”

“Trust me.” I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. Yes, it was clear that I should be the mastermind of this operation. After all, if she signed up her way, we’d have to not only pay money, but they’d probably match her with someone weak until she proved herself. We could bypass all of that.

If we did this right, they’d be begging her to be here, and we could charge them for the honor of having her bless the stage with her presence.

We’d both get what we wanted.

Speaking of…

“We need to think of your stage name,” I told her.

“My what?” She sounded slightly perturbed.

“Your stage name.” I indicated the ring. “Like, what they call you when you’re fighting.”

“Oh…” She chewed on her lip, considering.

Two new fighters were involved in another unimpressive round. This was why I appreciated the theatrics of professional wrestling. Where was the chair throwing? The fire and smoke? The shirt ripping? Sure, everyone knew all those things were fake, but that didn’t make it any less entertaining.

“Maybe The Lusty Lioness—” she began.

“No!” Never. I sliced my hand through the air. “The Lone Lioness.”

She frowned at me. “Why do I have to be alone?”

“It makes you more enticing!” Duh.

“You’re really getting into this.” She was watching me, expression critical. “Are you secretly an adrenaline junkie? You haven’t been terrified at all.”

I put my finger to my lip, cocking my head, unable to answer. But I didn’t understand her question.

Why should I be terrified? It wasn’t like I was the center of attention. Any lingering glances had mostly been tossed in Maria’s direction. And most people were more invested in the fight than anything.

It was only scary when people noticed me.

“I’m not complaining!” Maria shrugged, unbuttoning her blazer. She handed it to me, then loosened the buttons at her wrist and rolled up her sleeves to her elbows. “This suits me just fine.”

“You’ll do it?” My stomach twisted in sudden nervousness. It was all becoming more real. I had half-expected her to turn down this plan, to say the whole thing was stupid. Then we’d go back to Titus’s office and sit around drinking lattes while we reminisced about our almost-adventure.

The Spitter suddenly seemed meaner looking than before. “Do you think you can take him?”

“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes. “Bears are slow and brutish. It’ll be a cinch.”

Bears?

Hold up… These were all shifters?

“Maria…” I reached for her as the room slowly closed in around me. They were looking at me, right? They could smell me. I couldn’t be here. “Are we in a shifter—what is that?”

Maria had pulled on a purple ski mask, which, paired with heels, a black mini-skirt, and her lilac blouse, was the one thing that made her stand out among the other business-minded people also suitably attired as they placed and took bets.

“No, I get it. You’ll want us to be anonymous, right?” Maria asked, tucking her long-blond hair into the hood. “I haven’t seen anyone I know, so this has worked so far. But if we do this, they’ll try to figure us out. Put this on.” She shoved a similar mask in my direction.

I held up the burgundy garment with two fingers. “Why do you have two ski masks in your purse?”

Maria’s shoulders tensed and she looked away. “Never mind that.” Her words came out in a rush as she snatched the mask out of my hands and pulled it down over my face. “Let’s just get this show on the road.”

“But…” These were shifters? I’d sent her to fight a bear? This was not what I’d envisioned.

I could not handle this level of intensity.

However, if Maria even heard the beginnings of my protest, she ignored it. She’d already shoved her purse into my arms. I watched in helpless horror, hugging the items against me, as she strolled across the room with an air of confidence I’d never dream of replicating.

It seemed to take her less than an instant to reach her target, and she wasted no time in making her introductions.

Though, not having enhanced senses of my own, I had absolutely no idea what was being said, it wasn’t difficult to read the body language.

‘Hey there, big guy.’ She’d tapped his shoulder, then ran her fingers down his ridiculously huge bicep. Her nonchalant posture struck fear into my heart.

This was not the plan. Not that I had very much confidence in the plan anymore, but still.

The bear was suspicious at first, already raising his arm to strike her, when his grouchy expression softened a smidgen. Of course, being the rough sort, he’d not have a way with words, and when he spoke it was probably something like, ‘How’s it going, toots?’

Maria covered her mouth with her hand, and her shoulders shook girlishly. And my fears began to fade into annoyance.

What was she doing?

We’d decided on ‘lone’ lioness, so why was she going with ‘lusty’?

Regardless, the flirting seemed to be going rather well, until, out of nowhere, the two of them shook hands, obviously reaching some manner of accord.

I narrowed my eyes at the sight. What was going on now? Darn it, I should have just followed her. The room was growing more crowded, and someone pushed into me from the right, causing me to lose my balance. Because of that, I had no idea what happened during that split-second my attention had wavered, but by the time I looked back, their truce had ended, and the two shifters began to exchange blows.

I was silently screaming as I held Maria’s jacket and purse to my chin. Neither one of them had landed a single hit yet, and their fight was largely going unobserved thanks to the charade taking place in the ring. My heart was racing in anticipation. If no one cared, then all of this would be for nothing!

What in the world had I started? Where were all these strange impulses coming from? This wasn’t me!

Still, how could anyone want to watch the brightly costumed men in that sham of a show instead of the talented vision that was Maria? It was offensive.

She was glorious. Perfect form, poise, and grace. Her opponent, too, when not being a one-hit-wonder, wasn’t half bad.

I was lost in the splendor of it all, my insides twisting with both nerves and excitement, before I realized the crowd—and the ring itself—had mostly quieted. Everyone was now focused on the fight between the two shifters, as planned. I began to make out whispers, mostly admiration because—as I suspected—the man was a respected regular who’d never fully participated despite being asked.

They were both going to be so popular, he really should thank us.

But still, they were more eventually matched than I thought. I was confident in Maria’s skills—why else would Titus make her Er Bashou if she wasn’t a deadly warrior—but my pulse still raced with nervous excitement. I squeezed Maria’s stuff close to my chest as I watched the scene from between my fingers.

Hopefully Maria would realize soon that for this to work this shouldn’t be drawn out for much longer.

She knew, because this time when she ducked away from the slower man’s powerful punches, she pushed upward, jamming the heel of her hand up from the bottom of his chin.

The room grew still as he staggered back, covering his face with his arm, and fell against the wall.

I let out a long sigh of relief and uncovered my eyes. She waved at me, wide grin visible through the cut-out mouthpiece, and I couldn’t help but smile in return.

She won! I always had the utmost confidence in her ability.

But the short moment ended, and the room exploded in a torrent of sound and flurry. I lost sight of her as I was pushed to-and-fro as people moved in on her, trying to capture her attention.

The mood changed. Frantic.

Someone crashed into my back, and I fell to the floor, landing on my knees, as the stampede continued around me. I tried to get up, but there was no room, no way to regain my bearings.

I couldn’t breathe down here, and it was stifling, terrifying, as most people barely side-stepped around me. I thought I might be trampled. I was kicked, but nobody even seemed to notice. The space grew darker and louder, as I dropped Maria’s stuff to the ground and, sitting forward on my knees, wrapped my arms over my head.

“Come on!” Maria was suddenly beside me, grabbing my arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

Her calm demeanor was contagious and the tight feeling in my chest evaporated. She moved to her feet in one smooth motion, pushing back anyone who stood in her way. Then in another motion, she swooped up her jacket and bag while she held firmly around my wrist.

Everyone had been drawn into the chaos, so no one noticed as Maria pushed her way past the crowd, heading right for the unmarked doors that made up the exit. We paused there a moment, Maria pushing me against the patchy concrete wall as she positioned herself between me and the shifters and frowned down at her watch.

“I’m not sure what you were hoping to accomplish with that.” A thin, pale, snakelike man with slicked-back midnight hair suddenly appeared beside me. “But you’ve certainly started something.”

Maria’s attention whipped around so fast that it made me dizzy, and before I could even blink, she’d pulled me behind her. “What do you want?”

“I’m not talking to you.” His pinched face sharpened as he scowled at the lioness. “I’m addressing the lady fae. I’m assuming you have a plan?”

I gripped Maria’s sleeve and it took everything in me to keep my voice steady. We’d gotten attention, which meant it was working.

I couldn’t screw this up now.

I only had to think about the cashmere sweaters that lay unpurchased in my shopping cart. But only after, of course, I paid the boys back for what they’d already gotten me. “Sorry?”

He rolled his eyes as he reached into the front of his jacket and pulled out a small black card. “Don’t pretend to be dim, it’s annoying. Let’s agree to leave the evasiveness at the courts, and deal in real world terms. Here.”

I ignored Maria’s low growling and reached around her, taking the paper from him, but I didn’t have a chance to look at it before his hand closed over mine.

“When you’re ready to talk business, call me.”

“Are you done?” Maria stepped closer, pushing me more solidly behind her back.

“For now,” the man responded, shooting the lioness a patient glance. Then he moved into the pushing chaos of the room and pressed two fingers to the side of his forehead in a short salute. “I’ll be seeing you both again soon.”

* * *

“Ernesto Lucciano.” I flipped the card over in my hands. His name had been cut into the thick paper with gold lettering, inlaid with an elegant, swirling script. It was peculiar for a business card though, because there was no indication as to who he was anywhere; only a phone number engraved onto the back.

I really hoped this number accepted text messages, because I would rather gouge out my eyeball with a spoon than call a stranger.

That was, if I bothered with him at all.

“Who do you think he is?” I wondered, still staring at it. It really was a fancy calling card—it captured the light in a rather mesmerizing manner when held toward the light in a certain way.

“He’s Unseelie.” Maria’s knuckles were white around the steering wheel, and her focus was pointedly on the road. I would like to think that this excessive concentration was because she really cared for her Mercedes, but she’d already proven the exact opposite on the drive to the fights. “He’s the second-in-command for a regional gang and, despite being only thirty-two, is the patriarch of his house. I didn’t expect to see him there.”

“Unseelie?” I stopped playing with the card. “Why would a fae be at an underground shifter fight club?”

Maria shot me a pointed look.

“Okay…” My face warmed and I stared at the light tan dashboard. It was rather hypocritical of me to call out another fae’s involvement in illegal activities when we’d basically been doing the same thing. “What does that mean then? Why are you upset?”

“Why am I upset?” She sounded incredulous. “Did you not just hear me? He’s a gang leader.”

“Not really,” I rebutted. “He’s only second-in-command. Are you afraid of him?”

She laughed, and I clutched at my seat as a measure of her erratic driving returned. “No,” she answered, finally stopping to take a breath. “But he knows you’re fae.”

Well… Most people around here seemed to know that anyway.

“That means he was probably watching you for a while, long before George and I fought,” she continued, seemingly frustrated. “You’re on his radar and he knows what you look like.”

“Ah—” I shrugged, picking the card up again. She said this, but I couldn’t help but feel that this worry about him was a gross overreaction. “Who cares? I think I’m going to text him.”

“What?” Maria’s high-pitched shout cut through my head, and she jerked at the wheel.

My stomach churned. “Maybe we should pull over,” I muttered.

To my surprise, she did, swerving onto the curb and parking the car on the side of the two-lane country highway. “You can’t call him!” she said, turning in her seat to face me.

“I’m not going to call him,” I conceded. “I’m going to text him.” There was a difference.

“But why?” Maria clasped her hands in front of her in a pleading motion. “What possible reason would you have to be on a friendly basis with Ernesto Lucciano?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “He might be the connection we’re going to need for The Lone Lioness.”

“Wait, we’re seriously calling it that?”

That had never been in question, so I ignored it. “And he doesn’t seem like a bad person.”

“He’s in a gang, Bianca.” Maria was pinching the bridge of her nose. “An extremely high-ranking member to boot. He’s a bad person.”

Was he though?

I pressed my finger to my mouth, considering. Sure, he needed to wash his hair and lay off the heavy cologne, but, outside of that, “I don’t think he is.” I couldn’t explain it exactly, but he didn’t give off ‘bad person’ vibes.

If anything, he was more like a sleazy salesperson. I was certain we could reach some sort of understanding to our mutual benefit.

“He called me a ‘lady’,” I pointed out. He was well-mannered too—like Xavier. It must be only my family that were the uncouth ruffians of the fae world. Bryce, Uncle Gregory, and Uncle Caleb could certainly learn a thing or two about how to treat a girl.

Brayden, however, was perfect the way he was.

Maria was now rubbing her hands slowly down her face. “Oh my God…” Her voice sounded pained. “How are you still alive?”

“Don’t worry.” I petted her arm. Despite all of that, she had nothing to be concerned about. He was fae, which made him my subordinate anyway. And he wasn’t even an officer, which meant that basically everyone in my circle was stronger than him by default. “I’m a very good judge of character.”

She slowly opened her eyes. “It’s Finn,” she said, looking me up and down. “Finn is the reason you haven’t been murdered.”

Well, now that was just demeaning.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve saved his butt far more often than he’s helped me.” I shivered and rubbed my palms over my thighs. “He’s such a drama queen.”

“Is that so?” It didn’t look like she believed me.

“Yes, he’d never have passed Biology without my help.”

Maria’s eyebrow raised and her expression remained torn. I could tell she was stuck on whatever she’d been on about before but was also very interested in this newest development.

“Okay.” It wasn’t long before her curiosity won out. “I need to hear this.”

“Finn loathes the way formaldehyde smells.” I wrinkled my nose in remembrance. “It makes him nauseous, and he gets really grossed out by medical stuff—especially blood and guts.”

“So, he fainted during dissections?” Maria leaned forward; her brows drawn together in abject interest. “You can’t leave me without details.”

“No.” I shook my head. “We were always lab partners. I let him sleep and did it for him—filled out the paperwork and everything.”

“That’s…” She seemed torn. “Fascinating. But honestly, we’re getting way off topic here. You cannot text Ernesto.”

Not this again. “But I have to.”

“I’ll tell Titus,” she warned, wagging her finger at me.

And now she was bluffing. “No, you won’t.”

She pulled back and her hand lowered. “What?”

“If you tell him, he’ll want to know how I connected with Ernesto in the first place. Then you’ll have to admit your part in The Plan, and that you took me to an illegal shifter fighting ring.” I shook my head. Did she not think this through? I pointed between the two of us. “This is our little secret.”

Maria was staring at me with a mixture of horror and admiration and, during my answer, had pressed her hand to her heart. “Wow,” she said finally. Did she hate me now? I was only stating a fact. Besides, we’d decided on this before we got there, it was too late to back out now.

Despite my momentary waver in dedication earlier, we had no choice but to go all in, sans one exception.

“I’m not sure how to feel,” she continued. “I’m both frightened and proud.”

This was no time to be uncertain. “Do you want to beat things up?” If she said ‘no’—if she’d changed her mind—that would be the only reason to back out. I refused to take advantage. “Are you happy being where you are now?”

Maria flinched, then glanced out the window, pursing her lips. A heavy silence fell over the vehicle before she finally sighed and answered, “I hate desk jobs. I boxed in high school and college, and I always wanted to run my own gym.”

I knew it!

I tried to not show my elation on my face. But this was, finally, somewhere that I, Bianca Dubois, could assist. After all, there was no better thing than helping people reach their full potential.

It would be my first act of friendship.

“Then trust me.” I touched the card again, holding it in my lap as I ran my thumb over the edge of the paper. “I’ll help you.”

She’d make a name for herself first, then once she opened the doors of her own place, she’d have clients lined up around the corner.

My triumphant moment was short lived, because at my words, Maria’s expression twisted with guilt. “In that case, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What?” My stomach was already tightening at the heavy feeling in the air.

Her voice was short when she answered, “We’ve been investigating Eric Richards.” She grabbed the steering wheel, and her words began to flow more smoothly. “But we’re reaching the limits of what we can do. Everyone is hesitant to talk to you about it.”

Hesitant? I wondered why.

My ears buzzed and my fingers tingled. But once I got ahold of myself, I’d tell her I was completely over it. Hadn’t I already said so more than once?

“I want to help you too.” She peered at me from the corner of her eyes. “I think you’ll feel a lot better once you get closure. Help with the case, help them find him, and maybe you’ll be free.”

Free?

That was silly, I was already free.

I wanted to argue with her, but I couldn’t. This was girl-on-girl bonding time. We were supposed to be sharing our worries and traumas while offering uplifting platitudes.

That was how it worked.

I could not mar the sanctity of this moment.

“What do they want from m-me? I can’t h-help with anything.” I pressed my finger firmly against the sharp edge of the card. This was so frustrating. “I can’t t-t-talk!”

I couldn’t even explain.

Maria was resting her temple on the steering wheel. She watched me with a soft expression, and when she spoke, she seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “You don’t have to talk.” The understanding in her voice made my head swim. “You don’t need to tell them anything about what he’s done,” she said. “Fuck their procedures, it’s only pushed you away. Titus can tailor the investigation to what you can do. Anything will help, especially when we have almost nothing.”

I didn’t understand. “W-what do you want?”

“We need you at the scene,” Maria answered. “Various parts have been destroyed by fire, and it’s difficult to know what is and isn’t evidence. But if you could just do a walk-through—even to explain the layout of the house—it would help tremendously.”

“You w-want me to go back?” My throat was closing up. I couldn’t!

Maria sat up and grabbed my hands. “I know it’ll be hard, but it’s over, Bianca. There’s nothing there that can hurt you.”

Yes, there was. He’d been possessive over that land—what if he was watching?

He would know if I helped. They would know.

“Eric Richards cannot hurt you.” Maria shook my hands, her steady voice an anchor for my drifting emotions. “And, if you don’t want to do that, you don’t even need to talk. You can just walk around and point out anything that we could use. Something we might not notice.”

Maybe, maybe.

That wasn’t so bad. Finally, I might be able to contribute something.

So long as I didn’t say anything, I really wasn’t telling, was I?

“It’s… burned?” I whispered through dry lips.

“Mostly,” she answered with a nod. “Other parts of the building have aged badly due to exposure. We can’t even get to some places without the risk that the entire place will collapse. And—” She gave me a steady look as she squeezed my hands, her confidence steadying me. “—the scents are old and mostly faded. We’re the only ones who’ve been there. He’s not watching you.”

I felt dizzy with relief. How did she know what I was thinking?

“Okay.”

I didn’t even realize I’d agreed until her face lit up and her mouth widened into a bright smile. “That’s great,” she said, sounding genuinely pleased. “That’s really brave. You’ve come a long way.”

Really? Because I felt like throwing up.

I was not very brave at all.

“Let me tell Titus.” I bit my lip, looking at our joined fingers. If I was going to work on being brave, I should probably start with this.

And if he hadn’t come to me himself, it meant that he was probably against it.

“Of course,” she said, placing my hands back into my lap. She gave them a comforting pet, then pulled back on the road. “Do you want to keep talking?”

No, although I hoped it wouldn’t offend her. We probably should talk, even if not about this. We still had to come up with a believable cover-story for our absence all day.

However, I wasn’t sure I could handle any manner of conversation. “Not right now.”

“Okay. I’ll be here if you want to, though.” She didn’t argue or try to make me feel bad about it. Instead, she switched the radio on and we drove the rest of the way to Titus’s office in silence.