Claimed (Blood Ties Book 6)

“Aren’t you coming?”

I stared straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel of Carven’s Explorer, trying to keep the rage out of my voice. “No, pet. You go on inside with Carven.”

He’d slammed the door behind him and stormed toward the back door of the house. If I stayed, it’d be bad. If I left, it’d be bad. Either way, this went down, it wouldn’t be good, not after what we’d just witnessed. It was better if I left them. It was better if he…

Go to the Son, Vivienne.

The words were on the tip of my tongue as I turned and met her gaze. Wide, unblinking eyes stared back at me. Flashes followed, like flickers of a camera. Hands reaching for me. Blood…so much blood. I pulled away from the memory and from her, shifting my focus to the street. “There are things I need to tend to.”

“Tonight?”

There was need in her tone.

Need to be around me.

Need for me to be strong.

But I didn’t just want to be strong. I wanted to be lethal. “He needs you, Vivienne,” I said, hating how cold I sounded.

She straightened as she stood outside the car. “Sure,” she muttered before shoving the door closed and striding away.

You. Idiot.

I winced at the words. Still, they didn’t stop me shoving the car into gear and slamming down on the accelerator. They didn’t stop me from pulling up my phone to an address on the screen. The address of the pain in the ass that’d refused to give me what I wanted before…now, he would.

I drove through the city, my mind numb, frozen on the horror we’d just seen.

All of those Daughters…

All of those…

I jerked my mind away, glanced at the address on my phone, and turned down a street that just looked sad. Potholes eroded the pavement. Clapped out, rusted cars parked nose to nose along the street. Townhouses that were either boarded-up or had bars on the windows. I glanced at the street numbers and pulled the four-wheel drive over to the side of the road. Headlights flared further behind me. I lifted my gaze to the rear-view mirror and watched a car creep past the turnoff and keep going.

The two-story townhouses were in darkness. I glanced at the clock, finding it close to midnight. Hours it’d been…just hours since we’d stumbled from The Order carrying nothing more than the weight of all those deaths on our shoulders.

My shoulders, you mean?

Because no matter how you looked at it. This was all my fault.

If I hadn’t killed Macoy. If I’d taken out Hale first…

If I’d…

If I’d…

If I wasn’t so fucking obsessed with her.

I might’ve been able to keep my fucking head when they took her. But I hadn’t…I’d easily stepped back into my own selfish need.

I needed to fix this. I clenched my jaw as that nerve pulsed at the corner of my eye. I needed to end this. But first…first, I had to find my son.

I killed the engine and watched as faint flecks of snow fell from the sky. Jesus…as if this night couldn’t get fucking worse. I climbed out and closed the door gently behind me. The December wind howled, tearing right through my black cargo turtlenecked sweater and military vest I wore. I started walking, scanning the houses before I slipped down the side of one and watched for dogs.

That was the last thing I needed.

My boots were silent as I grabbed the top of the gate and vaulted over, hitting the ground with a thud. Barking started three houses over. I glanced toward the sound and kept on moving, making my way to the rear fence, then grabbed the top with both hands and heaved upwards.

Thud.

I hit the ground and scanned the rest of the houses. The wind howled, snatching away any sound I made. That’s just how I wanted it as I moved, climbed the rear stairs, then pulled the multitool from my pocket and found the pick. Cheap locks made little work. One hard thump in the right place and the door popped open like a jar.

I was inside in an instant.

One glance over my shoulder and I caught the flare of headlights in the street behind me where I was parked…and that same sedan slowly rolled past. I scowled as I closed the door behind me. Someone was following me. Someone I needed to take care of.

Just not right now.

I turned around, glanced at the darkened room, and made for the closed door of the single bedroom in the place. One careful turn and I was inside, looking down at the sprawled-out asshole.

The fake Rolex sat on the dresser beside him. I was sure it was his prized possession. It made him feel important. Made him feel…powerful.

I stepped closer, then reached into my pocket and pulled a black zip tie free. It didn’t take long. One gentle shift of his foot and I wrapped the plastic around and fed the end through.

Ripp…

He barely moved as it tightened.

“You have a nice house, Walter,” I murmured, feeding the end through the other tie and stepped closer, looking down at the man in the middle of the double bed. “It would be a shame to make a mess of you in it.”

His eyes snapped open as I pounced, grabbed one hand, and shoved, rolling him over to grab the other. He was bound before he knew it.

His hands behind his back.

His ankles wedged against each other.

I’d snapped them tight before he even knew that was happening. Before he could start to cry, that was. But he was crying now, his tears shimmering in the moon’s glow that spilled through the bars on the window.

He didn’t have a nice house at all. It was a shitty one-bedroom hovel, to be exact, on the upper east side of the seedy part of the city. It was in a shithole. One this asshole deserved.

“No!” Walter cried out and slammed his eyes closed. “Take whatever you want! Just don’t…kill me.”

“Take whatever I want,” I repeated slowly, breathing in the cool rush of faintly musty air. “What I want is what I wanted before…when you rudely interrupted me. I want information on Riven Cruz, and I want it now.”

Walter’s breath stilled as he opened his eyes. Confusion made him squint as he peered at me, then in an instant he understood. “You?” He hissed.

I didn’t answer, just lifted the silenced gun. “So, this is what’s going to happen,” I breathed. “First, I’m going to release you, then you’re going to log into the building records and give me every forwarding address you have on Mr. Cruz. You will not scream for help. You will not cause a scene…because if you do…” I lifted the gun as the memory of that room assaulted me. Wide, unblinking eyes stared up at me from the piles of bodies against the wall. A wall where their killers had lined them up and massacred them. Rage rippled through me. The hunger so raw I could taste it. “If you do, that will piss me off…and right now you don’t want to do that.” I fixed my gaze on Walter. “Do I make myself clear?”

He nodded furiously.

“Good. That’s very good.” I grabbed the tool and used the pliers to cut the ties.

He let out a moan, rubbing his wrists as I gave a jerk of my head, motioning to the living room. He followed, turning to keep me in his sights, before he scurried to the single sofa and plonked down.

“I could lose my job for giving you this.”

“You could lose your life if you don’t.”

He jerked his gaze up as he opened the laptop. I stood over him, waiting for him to return his gaze to the screen. He did, logged into the database, and pulled up the files. One rip from the notebook beside him on the small desk and he scribbled furiously, writing not one address, but three.

“Here.” He shoved the torn page at me. “I’ve done what you wanted.”

I took the addresses, scanning what he’d written. “I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you cause a problem over this?”

His cheeks burned. “No, you don’t.”

I have a nod, then turned away and strode for the door.

“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”

The question stopped me as I reached the door. Hale’s fucking face burning in my mind. Riven was just a way for me to get to him. “Yes,” I answered. “I’ll kill them all.”

I left him with the truth and walked out the way I’d come and headed down the stairs. Minutes. That’s all it took for me to get back to the Explorer. By the time I did, I was sucking in hard, ice-cold breaths. They burned all the way down as I unlocked the four-wheel drive and climbed inside.

The heater on full blast didn’t help a damn.

Still, I leaned close, warming my fingers in the heat and pulled up the first address on the list. It was a goddamn exclusive golf estate outside the city. That was out, so I turned my focus to the second on the list. Only the address didn’t look right. I punched in the details on my phone and stared at the subway line that ran clear through the city.

“Sonofabitch,” I swore, and looked outside the car.

Still, the address brought me back to the map of the railway. Riven wouldn’t give a fake address, so there had to be something here. I put my faith in that, pulled into the street, and headed to the heart of the city.

The closer I came to the address printed on the torn piece of paper, the more I realized it wasn’t on the subway line at all…it was under it.

I drove past the address, noting the dark sedans parked outside and pulled into a side street. A homeless man lifted his hand as I killed the engine, shielding his eyes. The alley was filled with homeless. They’d hung sheets of plastic, the only barrier as they huddled against the winter chill.

I pushed the door opened and climbed out. Death haunted me, my past, my present. But it was the future where it truly waited, lingering in the shadows, watching me. I walked back to the sedans, peering through the darkened windows before I turned to the building.

Thunder boomed as the midnight trains raced overhead. I winced, waiting for the roar to pass, and lifted my gaze to the apartment building directly under the tracks. Headlights blinded me instantly. Through the haze and the blur, I saw the hunched over figure behind the wheel of the same car I’d seen before.

It was a woman.

One who stared straight ahead as she drove past. I fought the urge to chase her and turned my focus to the building as I reached for my gun and worked the silencer free.

You don’t get to think, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR? Your job is to DO…you should’ve killed your fucking conscience when you had the chance, Riven, now get the fuck out!

Those words resounded, coming back to me clearly now. They were the same words I’d heard standing outside Hale’s office at The Order.

Did The Principal have a goddamn conscience? I didn’t think so…then again, that’s what others thought of me. I stepped up to the door, glanced over my shoulder, then stared at the heavy lock. A lock that couldn’t be picked, so I moved, stepped along the side of the building, and made my way to the rear, scanning the windows overhead.

The lights were on inside.

Riven was here?

He had to be. I searched the back door, but found the same unpickable lock. The only way in would be to break the door down, and that would take more strength than I possessed. I lifted my gaze to the balcony overhead, then to the six-foot fence.

But that…

That I could do.

I holstered my gun, then reached up and heaved myself upwards. Using muscles I hadn’t used in a while, I lunged, slamming against the steel banister with a grunt. Rage drove me over the edge and I tugged on the door and found it open before I slipped inside to a bedroom.

I heard them instantly.

Low murmurs in…what kind of language was that? Was that…Albanian?

I scowled, then moved out into the hall. Cold. That’s all I felt as I pulled my weapon free and made my way down to the first floor.

The sound of a shredder hummed and buzzed, fighting their panicked voices. They didn’t lift their heads as I stepped around the entrance to the room. I counted three, but there could be more. They didn’t even know I was there, until one of them jerked his head up and tensed. Heavy black tattoos reached all the way up a thick, muscled neck, an insignia was that was most definitely Mafia.

They looked like they were cleaning house.

“Going somewhere?” I growled, and lifted the gun.

One of them moved, easing his hand upwards. I swung the muzzle, barely taking aim. Bang! He dropped where he stood, missing half his head. The other two moved fast. One of them came for me, charging low, as the other reached for his gun.

With a guttural roar, the first bastard slammed into me, lifting me from my feet and throwing me backwards. But I was ready…and full of retribution. I swing my fist, connecting with the underside of his jaw. His head snapped back before he stumbled to the side.

“Where the fuck is Riven!” I roared, charging forward. “TELL ME WHERE THE BASTARD IS!”

A roar came from my right, deep and guttural, as another of them charged from what had to be the kitchen…with a goddamn carving knife in his hand.

Instinct took over. I wasn’t the man anymore. I was the killer, the mercenary. The man I’d tried to leave behind. I lifted my gun and squeezed off a shot. But he was fast, only giving me enough time to hit him in the thigh. It didn’t stop him. He lunged forward and lifted the knife high in the air…too high.

Jab.

Jab.

Jab.

I drove all my rage into short, fast punches, right at the edge of his ribs, and heard a crunch. It was all I needed as I grasped his wrist with the knife as we stumbled to the side. With a roar, I drove his hand over his head and hard against the wall.

Hate burned in his eyes.

Hate I knew.

Hate I breathed.

My fingers closed around the thick wooden hilt of the knife before I yanked it free. “Do you know what they did in that place?” I bellowed in his face.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t even care.

With a merciless snarl, I plunged the blade deep into his side and watched his eyes widen.

WHY! Vivienne’s screams resounded in my head as he unleashed a cough, then crumpled to the floor. THEY DID NOTHING, LONDON! THEY. DID. NOTHING!

Movement came behind me, making me swivel around and lift my gun. There was blood on my hand, smeared all over my thumb and dripping to my wrist. I sucked in a hard breath and levelled the muzzle in the middle of the first asshole’s forehead, then swung it over to his friend. “Now, I’m going to ask you once more…then I’m going to kill…and you won’t be the only ones I visit.”

They looked at each other, then back to me.

“Riven…” I glanced around the mess. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” one answered, his accent heavy. “He told us to clean, so we clean.”

“You clean,” I repeated, as hate and revulsion filled me. “Did he know?” I met each stare. “Did he know what they were planning?”

The question hung in the air.

“You know what? It doesn’t even matter.” I lifted the gun and took aim.

Bang.

Bang.

They both fell to the floor, just like the asshole at my feet. It didn’t matter if Riven knew what Hale had been planning. His hands were still stained with their innocent blood. I stepped over the bodies as the shredding machine whirled and vibrated.

If I couldn’t find Riven, then I’d find his brothers instead.

I’d hunt them down…

And kill them all.

Before this night was through.

I left that place, strode out the front door this time, and left it unlocked behind me. Blood cooled on my hands as I made my way to the four-wheel drive parked in the alley.

Colt would freeze out there.

The words hit me as I pressed the button and climbed into the car. No doubt they’d torture him and make him break. They’d do all they could, knowing every fucking blow they delivered would hurt me…

I yanked the door closed and gripped the wheel, staring through the windshield. “You motherfucker. You goddamn motherfucker.”

Hard breaths burned as I stabbed the button and started the engine, backing out into the street. I didn’t bother to look for the woman intent on following me. I just punched the accelerator and spun the wheel.

“You want to fucking run from me?” I snarled. “You want to hide like a goddamn rat, you piece of shit? Then I’ll make you come to me, asshole.”

I headed deeper into the city and pulled up outside a small, plain office with wide glass windows and a small brass plaque that read Kane Cruz Ph.D. Clinical Psychologist.

Headlights bounced against the glass front of the office, blinding me.

Hurt my fucking family!

I gripped the wheel, aimed the car dead on, drove the accelerator all the way to the floor, and felt the Explorer respond as it mounted the curb and hit the glass window.

Crunch.

My head snapped forward with the impact. But the airbags remained intact, allowing me to lift my gaze to find the shattered front window. The glass was more than cracked…it was missing. I shoved open the door, leaving the engine running, and stepped out.

The smashed window led to an office. His office. The one I wanted. Only I had no information on Kane Riven. No one did. He was secretive…and dangerous. A psychologist by degree, he’d learned how to break a person’s psyche…and rebuild them into the thing he wanted.

No.

The thing Hale wanted.

Jesus, the lessons he gave made the strongest male sick to his stomach. I stepped over the broken shards, went straight to his desk, and yanked out the top drawer. Papers fluttered to the floor. But amongst them was a black and white photograph. One bent and creased at the corners. I leaned over and picked it up, then lifted my gaze to the Explorer with the engine running outside the shattered window. I needed to find what I’d come for, and I needed to find it now.

Instead of staring at the photo, I shoved it into my pocket for later. Anything that worn was worth something. The rest of the papers were case files…but buried under them was an electric bill…one not in his name. I stared at the details.

“Margaret Roth?” I mumbled, staring at the address. One that wasn’t familiar.

I glanced around the rest of the sparse office with its tan leather sofa and imagined the poor bastards who came to this sick fucking snake for help.

They’d leave more fucked up than they came in…

That was guaranteed.

I turned around and took a step before stilling and lifting my gaze to the red blinking light in the corner of the room. He was watching. Good.

“I’m coming for you,” I mouthed, staring into the camera.

Then I turned away and stepped out of the ruined office before climbing back into the car and shoving the vehicle into reverse. I tried not to look at the blood on my hand as I drove, swiping it on my cargos instead.

I followed the GPS to the address on the bill. But the moment I turned into the area where it led me, anger burst out. “FUCK!”

It wasn’t a goddamn subdivision. It was industrial, with towering fences and old, darkened warehouses. It was nothing…NOTHING! I punched the steering wheel as I turned down the dead-end street. The GPS marker flashed red as my headlights splashed against an old, faded sign: Hazard – Keep Out.

The towering old gate was padlocked. But the track was well worn, leading through the entrance to some kind of building at the back. Whatever this place was, it was well used…

Just not tonight.

I turned the car around and headed back. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t anywhere near enough. Not enough blood on my hands, or enough answers. That gaping hole in my chest only ached deeper. I wanted my son back…I wanted Colt.

I pushed the four-wheel drive harder, then harder still, until all I heard was the roar of the engine and the thunder in my ears.

WHY! Vivienne’s screams resounded in my head.

But it wasn’t her face I saw…

It was Colt’s at ten years old as I carried him out of that place. That fucking place…

Those fucking bastards.

I wrenched the wheel, skidding the vehicle sideways, and overcorrected. The lights spun as the rear of the vehicle whipped around, coming to a stop with a bang against the curb. Headlights of cars were visible in the distance, but they weren’t near…

They weren’t…

I sucked in the cold air, trying to still the booming of my heart.

My phone came alive, the screen illuminating as it became active. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I moaned, and reached for it with trembling hands.

Benjamin Rossi.

I scowled, then hit the answer icon. “Rossi, a little late for—”

“Is it you?”

I clenched my jaw. “Is what me?”

“Don’t fucking play with me, St. James. Someone’s after Ryth and the boys. So, I’m going to ask again…is it you?”

My guts clenched. “No, it’s not me.”

“Then it’s someone. There’s word on the street a team has gone after them. You’re telling me you know nothing?”

“That’s right,” I answered. Now I thought of Vivienne…and her face when I had to tell her…that her sister was dead. “Can you intercept?”

“I have Freddy and the guys on it, but they may already be too late. Lazarus is calling Tobias now. Let’s hope they’re as ruthless as they were before.”

I lifted my gaze as I sat sideways against the edge of the gutter to stare at the glow of the amber lights. “Yes, let’s hope. Will you keep me updated if you hear anything else?”

“Yeah.”

I fixed on the building in front of me…the towering chapel and bell tower of the old sandstone church. “I appreciate it.”

“When I find out who it is…”

“It doesn’t matter,” I answered. “Take them out,” I snarled. “Take them all fucking out. Leave no one behind. Make them fucking know, they go after Ryth, or Vivienne…or any of these goddamn Daughters, there will be consequences.”

I couldn’t stop the rage from spilling out.

“My thoughts exactly,” Rossi answered. “I’ll keep you informed.”

Then he was gone, leaving me staring at that fucking amber light glowing like a damn beacon, until movement caught my eye. Headlights flared up ahead and a white van pulled over and parked outside the church.

I glanced at the clock. It was almost three in the damn morning. What kind of service—

The driver’s door opened and a figure dressed in black stepped out.

He glanced over his shoulder at my car, parked sideways with the engine running and the headlights still on. The moment the Explorer’s glow spilled over him I unleashed a savage sound. Black shirt. Black trousers…and a white clerical collar…

Thomas Cruz turned around and headed for the church, slowly climbed the steps, then he disappeared inside.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, unable to comprehend what I’d just seen.

But one look at that familiar white van and I realized this wasn’t a figment of my imagination…

It was The Priest…here.

My hands no longer shook as I eased my foot off the brake and pulled the Explorer alongside the curb and parked. They barely even trembled when I killed the engine and climbed out.

My gun was in my hand in an instant as I headed for the stairs to the church.

There would be no sanctuary here tonight.

Or any night to come.

Not for them.

Or for me.

Until this was done.