“Wait for it,” Niamh said.
More swings. More misses. Broken Sue jabbed, threw in another uppercut. Bruce bled from multiple areas. One eye started to swell, and his lips were the size of beanbags.
With a last miss, the shifter issued a mangled roar of pain and frustration and launched for Broken Sue.
It was like a switch had been flicked. Gone was the boxer with the perfect technique. In came the street-fighting brawler.
Broken Sue launched himself as well, hitting Bruce midair. His larger body drove the other shifter back, slamming against the magical barrier covering the door, and now his fists pummeled the other man. Into Bruce’s ribs they railed, his stomach, his head. Broken Sue was getting out his aggression, clearly. His pain. His past.
He picked up the other man by the shirt and slammed him against the divide. Again. Bruce’s head thunked. His arms flailed weakly.
With a roar, Broken Sue dropped the other man and, as he was falling, ripped out his throat.
“Holy—！” Jasper bent forward with his fist over his mouth, his eyes wide, his hand grabbing Ulric’s shoulder.
“Ah well, he won’t be needing a healer, so,” Niamh said, a little giddy from the sheer brutality of this night. It was like the old days when she’d gone drinking with her family and other pucas, and one of them would either start or join a bar fight. They always seemed to end about the same way.
“Note to self, do not challenge Broken Sue,” Ulric murmured, sounding winded even though he hadn’t done anything.
“You need to make a note about that?” Jasper asked in disbelief.
“A joke isn’t funny if you have to explain it.”
Broken Sue stood over the other man for a moment, looking down, panting. His hands dripped blood, his shoulders were hunched, and he looked for all the world like the man who’d earned the name Broken and chosen the name Brochan, meaning one and the same.
“Go over there,” Niamh said, shoving at Ulric. “He needs a hand out of whatever ditch his mind has fallen into.”
But Indigo was already halfway there, drifting as though being pulled, stopping near him and looking up at his face. She didn’t say a word, just put her hand over his heart.
He flinched but didn’t pull away.
“It hurts,” Indigo said, lowering her head a little, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “I can feel how much it hurts. I am sorry for your loss.”
Broken Sue’s face, always so good at holding a blank expression, crumpled, grief etched deeply in the lines around his eyes and mouth. He took a ragged breath, and then the magic from the door was gone and Jessie was ushering him out of the bar. She always knew how to take care of her people. It was like a sixth sense. Niamh didn’t know if it was the gargoyle in her or the person, but she was thankful Jessie had such a gift.
“I just teared up a little,” Jasper said heavily. He turned to Ulric and pointed at his left eye.
“Look, see? Do you see that tear?”
“Would ye stop bein’ a clown?” Niamh shook her head and turned back to her drink, her own shriveled, blackened heart hurting for Broken Sue as well. What a burden to have to carry around.
Maybe Indigo could help. She certainly seemed to understand what to do and say to get through to that hard former alpha. Speaking of which, where was Nessa with her sunshine?
“Bittersweet.” Ulric took the stool next to Niamh. The former occupant was some chatty wolf shifter who’d clearly legged it at some stage. Niamh hadn’t passed any remarks as to when. “What a freaking show. Phew. Remind me never to get on Austin Steele’s bad side.”
“Why would you need a reminder?” Jasper asked, sitting down with them. The whole bar had cleared to the sides. Niamh had been too engrossed to notice or care.
Ulric turned to him. “Is it your goal in life to sound as stupid as humanly possible?”
“Yes. How’m I doing?”
“Very fine indeed, sir.” Ulric turned back, looking for the bartender as Niamh’s phone vibrated.
Three missed calls. Tristan. He probably wanted to know how the fight had gone.
Since the bar hadn’t been set to rights yet and the bartender clearly wasn’t sure what to do about the carnage, Niamh figured the faux pas of talking on the phone could be tolerated. She tapped Tristan’s name and waited for him to pick up as Ulric and Jasper chatted.
“Hey,” Tristan answered, and it sounded like he was on the move.
“Ye missed a helluva show, boy.”
“I’ll look forward to the highlights. I need to talk to you. It’s about that weapons pickup. Natasha got some information, and I want to talk through it before I approach the alphas.”