“Oh? Big biker boy wants to fight?” He leered at him, and I was shocked when a deep, guttural growl echoed up from Rick’s throat.
Nate shrugged, looking wholly unperturbed. “Not fighting the likes of you. Wouldn’t wanna bruise my knuckles again like last night.”
“You fucker,” Rick hissed, and lunged for Nate. Instead of defending himself, Nate sidestepped the attack, making Rick stumble and almost fall again.
In growing horror, I realized they were going to start slugging it out right here on the street. The sidewalks were mostly deserted, but this couldn’t continue.
“Stop it, both of you,” I said, trying to put myself between them.
“Stay back, Cam,” Nate said calmly. “Can’t trust what this crazy asshole might do.”
Rick’s eyes bulged. “This is what I was talking about. You poisoned her against me!” He swung a fist at Nate’s face, but Nate pulled his head back seconds before it could make contact.
“The only poison is you,” Nate said, lip curling in disgust.
“Enough of this shit,” Rick muttered as he slipped his hand into his pocket. In a flash, he pulled out a pocket knife. Flicking his wrist, a four-inch blade snapped out.
This was going too far. I had to stop them.
Before Nate or Rick could react, I grabbed Rick’s wrist, twisting it behind his back and stomping on his instep.
Rick twisted, trying to free himself. “Goddammit, Cameron. Let me go.”
I moved with him, never loosening my grip. He cursed and tried to backhand me, but I used my right elbow to block it. By protecting my face, I lost my grip on his arm, and his wrist slipped from my grasp. In the scuffle, the knife slipped from his grip, and I saw my chance.
Bringing my hand down, I grabbed the handle and tugged. Rick tried to regain control of the weapon and yanked his hand back. I held fast, but our arms and hands were tangled so close that the blade tore a thin groove down my forearm.
“Shit,” I hissed, backing away from Rick, knife in one hand, the other pressed to the wound.
Nate’s eyes widened at the sight of the blood oozing from under my fingers. He roared, and I flinched away in fear. He lunged at Rick, and the two men crashed into a parked car. They grappled and clawed at each other’s throats, becoming a blur of fists and growling curses.
I tossed the knife down a storm drain, then rushed to the two of them, unsure how to break them up.
“Rick! Nate! Stop!”
If they heard me, they didn’t register anything. If anything, the sound of my voice seemed to spur them to fight even harder. Nate gripped Rick’s shirt collar, two buttons already torn away, and he was trying to punch Rick’s face. Rick was blocking the blows with his arm, so the punches landed on the side of his head. His earlobe was split, and blood dripped down onto his white shirt.
An instant later, he shifted, becoming a whirling mass of claws and teeth. Nate danced back right before Rick’s teeth could clamp down on his crotch. Nate shifted as well and dived at Rick, sending them both crashing into the parked car. Nate bit down hard on Rick’s shoulder. A yelp of pain rang out loud on the early morning street.
In a panic, I glanced around, but found no one within sight. A few hundred yards away, a few joggers were stretching, getting ready for a run. They’d turned to look toward the sound, but the car blocked Rick and Nate from view.
Cursing, I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed 911. I didn’t want either of them to die, and I didn’t know what else to do. Through the sounds of wolfish growling and grunts, I barely heard the operator who answered.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“Uh, there’s a fight going on. Two men fighting near the jogging trail of Northwood Park. Right outside the Gracemore apartment building.”
“Understood, ma’am. Are there any weapons involved?”
I decided to omit the knife since it was of no use to anyone now. “No, they’re, uh, just beating the shit out of each other.”
“I’ll have a unit on the way now.”
I hung up right as Rick shifted back and scrambled to his feet. He pulled his leg back to kick Nate in the head. I was close enough that I managed to throw a kick of my own, sending Rick off balance.
Nate, moving forward and flowing like water, ducked beneath Rick’s guard and leaped up, headbutting Rick in his face, right below his right eye. Hissing in pain, Rick drove an elbow toward Nate’s muzzle, but I deflected it. His elbow slid across my forearm and left a smear of blood from my cut.
“Get back, Cameron,” Rick growled. I’d never heard him like that. He was more an animal thirsting for blood than a man.
