“I do not have to justify myself to a wolf.” Lucian turned away but Christian wasn’t done. He grabbed Lucian’s shoulder and the vampire reacted instantly. Abbey cried out as Christian sailed over Lucian’s head.
“Enough,” she shouted. “You’re grown men, for Christ’s sake. Act like it.”
“You’re human,” Christian said, not looking at her. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Anger threaded through her. “Don’t you dare bring my biology into this. I’m sure there are a dozen supernatural women in the bar who’d agree brawling in the park is beneath us all.”
“Let him be, Abbey,” Lucian said. “Brute force is the only thing his kind understands.”
Christian charged with a deafening roar.
The men met with a force Abbey swore shook the park. She would have jumped at the chance to push them apart but they moved faster than her eyes could follow. All she saw was a flash of yellow eyes and fur followed by fangs and nails sharpened to razor points.
“Stop it!” she screamed but neither man listened.
Christian slashed out with hooked claws that sprouted from his hands. Gray fur covered his knuckles and puffed from his T-shirt. Abbey knew enough about weres to know he wasn’t in full shift, but he was close. Dangerously close, given their rather public location.
Lucian, on the other hand, looked like an emotionless warrior. He gauged Christian’s charge and sidestepped out of the way, delivering blows to his vulnerable side that the wolf failed to defend.
Black-tipped nails elongated from Lucian’s hands and white fangs flashed as he fought with ruthless efficiency. Abbey thought of the centuries he’d lived and battles he’d survived. Christian didn’t have a chance. Even to her untrained eyes, she could see he was toying with the wolf.
Lucian moved with incredible speed. It almost seemed as though he was dancing through the scene except when he moved, growls of pain and blood splatters followed.
“Christian, Lucian, please!” she cried. Her plea had no effect, not that she’d expected it to. This wasn’t about her. This was the supernatural version of a pissing contest. Both men had merely needed an excuse to whip it out and measure up.
Abbey looked around the barren park for anything that would help. Spotting a few branches and rocks scattered under the trees, she ran to collect them.
“Goddammit,” she snarled, curling her hand around a fist-sized rock. “You will listen to me.” She let the missile fly, not caring which fool she hit. The rock struck Christian on the back of his head. He shook his head from the unexpected attack. “Stop,” she said, hefting another stone. “I was a pitcher in high school. I can go all night.”
But the wolf was apparently in no mood to listen. Throwing her a dark look, he launched himself at Lucian.
Abbey grabbed another stone and let it fly. Her pitiful contribution, however, gained no attention. When supersized teeth and claws were involved, a few falling stones were the least of the men’s concern.
Feeling sorely out of her depth, she watched the two men in her life rip each other to shreds. Lucian might have centuries of experience, but Christian had more stamina. All the pack battles he’d fought played to his advantage. He was a scrappy fighter, taking any opening available to him. Lucian, on the other hand, refused to attack his enemy’s back. He fought with his own brand of honor and even Abbey had to roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of bringing medieval chivalry into a twenty-first-century tussle.
Never had she felt more human than in that moment. Had she been anything else, hell even a were-badger, she would have had skills to offer. She would have been able to dive in and tear the men apart. But as she was, she couldn’t move anywhere near fast enough.
The thought enraged her further. Every time she turned around, there was something waiting to show her just how pitiful she was. Her lovers found fault with her, her clients pitied her for her disadvantage, and now she couldn’t even break up a glorified bar fight.
“The hell I won’t,” she muttered. She might not have claws or teeth but she had courage. Lucian would never hurt her. Emotionally, sure, but she knew in her bones the vampire was no threat to her physically.
And she was Christian’s grand chance. His destined 96 percent. He would never risk harming the woman he thought of as his.
Grabbing the sturdy branch at her feet, she made her decision. Stepping between warring supernaturals might sound like suicide but neither one of them would harm her.
In theory.
“Please don’t be having an off day,” she whispered to the unhearing men.
Movement flashed from the corner of her eye. Humans were coming toward the park and with them, the risk of discovery. It was now or never.