Dead of Winter (Battle of the Bulls #2) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,52

Shots and Dead were killing the competition.

Idiots. They were trying to save them.

“You and you, come in,” Quickdraw yelled, gesturing to someone.

Two paramedics were allowed to pass, and then another two more, dragging stretchers. When they were inside, Quickdraw pulled the door closed.

“Last Chance is the worst,” Dead said, pointing to the blond bull shifter Two Shots had brought in. Outside of his seizures, he hadn’t moved much.

The next few minutes were chaos. It was Dead putting out orders, Cheyenne working like she knew exactly how to help the paramedics, while Two Shots and Quickdraw went back outside to push back the hoard. Raven did her best to comfort Train Wreck, Jack of All Trades, and Last Chance while the paramedics worked on them.

She’d never felt so worried about strangers in her whole life, but Dead had described how awful the drug was, and she couldn’t imagine their fear at the animal disappearing inside of them.

Dead worked relentlessly, reassuring each one, helping however he could. He was magnificent under pressure, but the anger never left his eyes.

“We need room,” one of the paramedics said as he rolled Last Chance on the stretcher toward the door.

“We’ve got you,” Dead rumbled and flashed Raven a look right before he disappeared out the door.

He looked gutted with worry.

He and Quickdraw and Two Shots were savage in pushing the crowd back. And to Raven’s shock, a few of the other bull shifters joined them, making a pathway for the paramedics to get through. They didn’t allow anyone to reach out and touch the bull shifters on the stretchers either. They were like a pack of bodyguards, standing vigilant against anyone who would hurt them or finish the awful job they’d started.

Train Wreck reached out for Dead’s arm at the last moment, dragged him beside the stretcher, and Raven could hear him as she followed behind.

“Buck for us tonight. Don’t slow down, don’t let them win. You go out there and put on a show. Keep that purse big so we have a reason to come back fighting. Swear it.”

Dead’s eyes were so big as he stared down at the poisoned shifter. He nodded jerkily. “I swear it.”

Train Wreck released his wrist and disappeared behind the other stretchers in the crowd.

Tommy Hane came stomping through, looking pissed beyond all measure. “Meeting in the back, now.” He jammed a finger toward the end of the alleyway, then turned and cupped his hands around his mouth. “If you are human, not a rider, a handler, or working directly with the organization back here, get the fuck out of my territory. Go find your seats. I need less people here. Bulls and riders, follow me. If you’re not in that meeting room in two goddamn minutes, you will not be a part of tonight’s event.”

Dead slid his hand around Raven’s and led her behind Tommy. Cheyenne was on her other side and just shrugged and mouthed, I don’t know when Raven asked her what was happening.

In the meeting room, bulls and riders filed in and rushed to fill the empty spaces. Tommy kept glancing down at his watch and slammed the door closed after a few minutes.

“Just so everyone is aware, we will be investigating what happened tonight, and when we find out who was involved in hurting our bulls, they will be severely punished. And I’m not talking about human law punishment!” His voice echoed through the room, and his eyes turned the chocolate brown of his animal. “I mean we will punish how we see fit. This poisoning shit will not happen again. It doesn’t matter the winnings are bigger now. You will play events fair or you’ll be trampled.”

“Trampled?” one of the riders asked.

“Did I stutter, Stetson? Welcome to the fuckin’ big league. No more slaps on the wrist. I will put your worthless carcass under one of the bulls you hurt if I ever find out you were involved in hurting them. Is that clear?” His voice cracked with power, and the room delved into complete silence. “A verbal yes is required!”

“Yes!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Understood.”

“Now, tonight we still have an event to put on. Those people out there paid a lot of money to see this rodeo. Those bull shifters that are going through hell right now wouldn’t even want it to be canceled anyway. I know. I asked them. But we are down three bulls right now, and the organizers are scrambling to fill holes in the lineup.”

“I’ll go twice,” Dead offered low. “My second