Women of the Otherworld 10.5 - Counterfeit Magic Read Online Free PDF Page A

suppose as long as the brothers kept things quiet, they were willing to look the other way.
     
    And the Gallantes did keep things quiet. Two more young men in the yard directed patrons, making sure they quickly got into the barn. While the brothers hadn’t spent a fortune on the gym, they’d obviously splurged on soundproofing. I could barely hear a murmur as we approached the barn.
     
    When we stepped into the bouncer’s room and gave our names to Rico, I could make out cheers and boos from within, along with the occasional dull thump of fist hitting flesh. But it wasn’t until we opened the inner door that the full cacophony hit us, the cheers becoming shouts, grunts and groans punctuating the thump of the blows.
     
    There were two fighters in the ring. Both were young men. That went for most of the combatants milling around the staging area. The clientele was older, averaging fifty, mostly male. All the women seemed to be attached to a man, and while a few avidly watched the match, more were avidly checking their watches.
     
    Heads turned when we walked in. Then more heads, as people nudged their neighbors. Patrons leaned over to ask Ethan who we were, while the fighters asked Tommy in the staging area. Their gazes swung to Savannah as the brothers presumably said she was fighting tonight. After they checked Savannah out, they asked another question— who was she fighting? When they got the answer, they streamed to the betting window.
     
    “Now that’s a rousing show of support,” Savannah said. “One look at me, and they’re slapping down their life savings.”
     
    When I didn’t answer, she rolled her eyes. “I know they aren’t betting on me .”
     
    She’d made sure of that when she picked her outfit. It was still the same white blouse and chocolate-brown pants from earlier, but she’d bumped up the accessories—chunky necklace, bangle bracelets and gold chain belt, plus boots with stiletto heels. She was better dressed than any of the girlfriends and wives here… and looked even less likely to step into the ring.
     
    We were wandering around, scoping out the place, when another woman walked in, unaccompanied. She was about twenty-five, short and stocky, her broad face set in a permanent “don’t fuck with me” scowl.
     
    “I do believe the competition has arrived,” Savannah said. “As for supernatural type, I’m betting dwarf.” She caught my look. “Yes, I know there’s no such thing.”
     
    “Not what I was going to say.”
     
    She sighed. “Fine, I’ll be kind. Short people have their uses.” She set her water bottle on my head. “They make great tables. Good footstools, too, once you knock them down, which is exactly what I plan to do with that one.”
     
    “Don’t get cocky.”
     
    The other fighter walked to Ethan and said something to him. He waved Savannah over.
     
    “Georgia? I’d like you to meet Mel. Mel, Georgia. Your opponent tonight.”
     
    Savannah extended a hand. Ignoring it, Mel looked Savannah up and down, then turned to Ethan.
     
    “You’re kidding, right?”
     
    “Don’t worry,” Savannah said. “I can fight on my knees.”
     
    “I bet you can do a lot on your knees.”
     
    “ Oooh , trash-talking already! This is going to be so cool!”
     
    “Who’s that?” Mel said, gesturing at me. “Your girlfriend?”
     
    “Manager. I’m one-hundred-percent hetero.” Savannah bent down to Mel and mock-whispered. “Sorry. You are kinda cute, though.”
     
    Mel grabbed Ethan’s arm and marched him off. “I thought we talked about this. I want real opponents, not pretty girls…”
     
    Savannah watched her go. “I know, I know. Don’t get cocky. She’s obviously not an amateur.”
     
    “Correct. Now, let’s mingle.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Mingling wasn’t difficult. The problem was getting away from the men so Savannah could prep for her match. As she changed, I ignored the two guys hitting on me and concentrated on Mel, who was