Claimed (Blood Ties Book 6)

Ding. The elevator door opened.

“Vivienne,” London murmured, staring straight ahead. “Behind me, pet.”

I stopped with my gun in my hand as London stepped out of the elevator on the twenty-sixth floor of a building in the middle of the city. One filled with powerful men in expensive suits just like the one London wore now. But he didn’t look like the stuffy assholes who’d glared at us as we’d walked through the foyer downstairs. He looked like violence wrapped in black Ferragamos.

Polished boots hit the gleaming tiled floor of the foyer with a thud. Perfectly cut trousers pulled taut around powerful thighs as he lengthened his stride. Three other men flanked him. Paid mercenaries dressed in black cargos and tight t-shirts, leaving me to follow.

It wasn’t just fresh intel my sister, Helene, had given him. It was a whole other level of aggression, one London took to very well. He never once looked nervous as he headed toward the frosted glass doors on the top floor of the building. Ones etched with Harmon Inc.

No, he looked like a shark hunting…and he didn’t just smell blood.

He smelled a massacre.

Harmon Inc. was one of The Order’s newest and biggest financial backers…the chairman, Julius Harmon, was, as of now, one of Hale’s latest best friends, and was helping him escape the city.

Over his dead body, where the words London muttered as Helene handed over all the information she had on Julius Harmon. While Carven, Guild, and Harper led teams that raided various parts of the city, we’d waited for the intel Helene had orchestrated to finally come in. Three days of strategic planning later, and here we were.

London pushed through the glass doors, leaving one mercenary to catch the swing and hold it open for me.

“Sir?” The receptionist rose behind a high gleaming glass desk. Her eyes widened, taking in London, then the three massive males, before those wide eyes settled on me.

She swallowed hard, then fumbled for the telephone in front of her.

One of our men stopped in front of her desk. “Uh-uh,” he murmured, reaching over the counter to place the handset in her grasp back down. “Let’s not do that, shall we?”

We left him behind and followed London as he headed down the long hallway to the closed office door at the end. He was past the point of discussion now, well beyond anyone capable of seeing reason. He lifted his leg, unleashed his boot at the edge of the door and kicked it in with a crack!

“Julius Harmon,” he said coldly, swinging that deadly stare through the room. “Let me introduce myself. My name is London St. James…and you have information I want.”

“What the fuck?” One of the men burst out, his gaze moving to the two other men flanking the table.

But it was the two bodyguards standing at the front of the room they focused on. The men reacted. One reached into his jacket for a weapon as the other one rushed forward, charging one of the armed men. London moved so fast I barely saw it.

Bang!

The crack resounded before the bodyguard in front of him pulled his gun. Blood bloomed in the middle of his forehead before he slumped to the floor.

“What the FUCK IS GOING ON?” Julius Harmon roared, shoving to his feet so hard his chair toppled to the floor.

“Like I said, you have something I want and I’m here to get it.”

I gripped the gun, my focus on the mercenary and the other bodyguard as they collided with a sickening crunch. I swung my gun, my focus on the threat in front of me. I didn’t hear the soft creak of the connecting door at my back.

“Don’t fucking move.” The low growl came from behind me.

London swung his gaze around as the man behind me lifted a gun and pressed it against my head.

“No hasty moves,” he murmured in my ear. “Don’t want to see the bitch’s brains splattered all over the room now, do we?”

If it’d been at any other time before Colt had been taken, I might’ve been terrified enough to do exactly what he demanded. But like London, I was past the point of fear, steeped well in rage.

“Easy,” I whispered. “I’ll do anything you say.”

I lowered my hand and aimed the gun straight down before I slipped my finger around the trigger and fired.

Bang!

The asshole behind me screamed, shoving me hard. I shoved my hands out, frantically trying to stop the blow. Still, I slammed into the edge of the table so hard a moan ripped free.

“You fucking bi—” The gunman behind me started.

Bang!

He never finished before London shot him, striding around the long boardroom table in the middle of the room. “Want to keep going?” he roared, swinging the muzzle of the gun around the room, stopping on the piece of shit who had to be Julius Harmon.

Because the bastard turned a weird shade of ash.

“You okay, kitten?” London captured my chin, turning my gaze to his.

He searched my eyes for the truth. I winced, but gave a nod. My hands had taken most of the impact, my hips the rest as I’d turned at the last minute, shielding my stomach from the blow. “Yes.”

He gave a nod, then turned on the others. “Any more surprises?”

The other four men sitting at the table gave frantic shakes of their heads.

“Good,” London crooned. “Very good.”

A chill swept along the nape of my neck at his tone. I’d seen him in action before, seen him dangerous, seen him deadly even. But this…this was a whole new level of chilling as he lifted his boot and rested it on Julius Harmon’s armrest, his gun dangling down.

“I don’t want to kill anyone else…but I will.” He narrowed in on the object of his wrath. “I will do whatever it takes to protect my family, as I’m sure you would. Isn’t that right, Julius?”

The piece of shit in front of him opened his mouth to speak. “What the fuck are you saying?”

London just gave a shrug, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Just what I said. After all…family is everything.” He pressed a button, listening to it ring on the other end before Carven answered it.

“Carven.” London stared at Julius. “Please show Mr. Harmon how serious we are?”

Muffled moans came through in the background. I glimpsed dark shadows before the camera panned around.

“Katie?” Julius barked.

The gagged woman tied to a chair came awake in an instant. Her eyes bugged wide.

Moans came from Julius. Gasps of utter terror from the other four men around him were simultaneous.

“Now, we let her know you’d be late getting home tonight,” London murmured, then lifted his gaze to the other men. “All of your wives…”

“What the fuck?” one asshole barked.

“Veronica Andrews, red-haired, five foot six, drives a black Range Rover, license plate number—”

“Enough!” he roared, gripping the armrest beside him. “Just enough!”

London met every gaze of the men sitting around the table. “They won’t be harmed, not your wives or your children, as long as you do what I say.”

“Motherfucker.” Another stared daggers at the man who wouldn’t blink twice at ending their miserable fucking lives. But he wouldn’t touch a hair on their wives’ or their children’s heads.

Now, Carven.

Carven was a whole other matter.

“Now that we’re well acquainted with each other, I’ll tell you why I’m here,” London murmured.

“I know why you’re here.”

London turned on him, staring into Julius Harmon’s eyes. “Good, I was never one for pretense. Now, tell me where and when you’re getting Haelstrom out of the city.”

There was a curl of his lips. Hate seethed in his stare. “You’ll never get away with it.”

London leaned down, so close he could almost breathe the same air. “If you think I give a fuck about what happens to me after this, you’re dead wrong. I want Hale…and you’re going to give him to me, otherwise I’m going to make a call…and you can listen to my son kill everyone you’ve ever loved.”

“He’ll be gone before you even scream his name.”

London’s lips curled. “Try me.”

Rage burned in both their stares until, with a snarl, Julius spoke. “Edgemont crossing.”

Surprise claimed London’s stare. “The river? He’s escaping by boat?”

But Julius leaned back in his chair. “I’ve told you what you wanted. Now let us go.”

London glanced at me, then grabbed his phone. “What time?”

Julius was silent.

“I said WHAT TIME?”

“Nine p.m.” The answer was a mumble as he stared daggers at the man I loved.

I clenched my fist around the gun in my hand, consumed with the need to put a bullet in his skull. “Don’t fucking look at him like that.”

London stopped typing on his phone, lifting his gaze to me.

But I couldn’t stop the wall of anger that slammed into me. I lunged across the room, grabbed that foul, fucking excuse for a man by his crisp white shirt and yanked him toward me. He smirked at my outburst. I knew I was letting him get to me, but I couldn’t stop it. “You don’t look at him like that!” I screamed in his face.

“Pet?” London said carefully.

I sucked in hard breaths, trying to come back down from the rage. They didn’t get to look at him like that. Like he was the monster here. Not after what they’ve done. “Do you even know what they did to us?” I whisper. The rage hadn’t left me, but this wasn’t the blistering burn. No, it sank deeper and as it did, it grew colder. I glanced at my fists, clenched tight around his shirt, then met the amusement in his stare. “Did you know they used to force us into that room? Down into the dark and the cold. Down where the rats waited. Did you know they hurt us there? That they made us do vile things to them and each other? Did you also know that’s where we found them?”

“Vivienne,” London warned.

But I was past the point of caring. I wanted this man to know exactly what they did there. “All the Daughters. The women your new friend Haelstrom Hale created to traffic and abuse. They forced them down into that room and they made them stand against the wall. They would’ve been terrified, crying, holding onto each other as the man you think so highly of had his guards lift their guns and murder all of them.”

That smile faded on his face.

“We found them still clinging to each other,” I whispered. “Their faces barely recognizable from the bullet holes Hale’s men left behind.”

There was no more amusement now. Not even a hint of the sneer he’d carried seconds ago.

Instead, he swallowed, his voice a croak. “You’re mistaken. Haelstrom wouldn’t do something like that.”

“You have no fucking idea what Haelstrom would do,” London snarled, finishing typing before he rose. “He’s using you. Just like he uses everyone. He has no loyalty. He has no soul. He cares for only his sick, twisted needs, and you…” He glanced around the table. “Almost helped him escape.”

London lowered his boot and straightened. “Never mind all that now.” He glanced toward the men we’d come with. “My men here will stay and keep you company. After all, we can’t have you making any calls and disrupting Haelstrom’s desperate plan to escape justice.”

He glanced my way, then lifted his hand for me. “Pet?”

I released my hold, shoving the piece of shit back against his seat. “You need to choose your friends more wisely.” I looked down at him. “Or the next time we see each other I might give you a firsthand taste of the depravity your buddy likes so much.”

Something dangerous slithered across his stare.

Something that made me flinch. Maybe Julius Harmon knew exactly the man Haelstrom Hale was? Maybe he more than knew. Maybe he was one of The Order? My pulse raced at the thought and my mouth turned dry.

“I’ll be watching you,” I whispered, even if fear made my voice tremble. I forced myself to turn my head, meeting every stare. “I’ll be watching all of you.”

London’s outstretched hand waited, leaving me to take it.

“You’ll see they remain here until this is over?” London asked one of his men.

“Yes, sir,” the mercenary replied, giving me a careful stare.

But it wasn’t me they should be wary of. My thoughts drifted to Carven, and then like they always did, to Colt. It was those men like Julius should be careful of. Men who were bred to hunt and destroy but who now had a conscience. Thanks to men like London.

I gripped his hand as he led me out of that boardroom, leaving the others behind. The mercenary standing in the reception area gave a nod as we walked past. But then we were out of there, heading to the elevator.

My knees shook, locking and unlocking as I stumbled for the elevator doors. But London was there, letting go of my hand to grasp me around the waist. “Easy,” he murmured, frantically stabbing the button for the elevator’s doors. “I got you, kitten. Learn on me.”

I did, clawing hold of his shirt, barely keeping myself upright before I lunged into the elevator and collapsed against the wall. As the doors closed, London rushed me, sliding his hands under my arms to lift me up. “Vivienne?”

I sucked in hard gasps, watching the lights in the elevator darken then grow neon bright. “I’m okay,” I said, mostly to myself. “I’m okay.”

My legs grew steadier, holding my weight more easily.

“What the fuck happened?”

I closed my eyes, unable to meet his gaze. No…this isn’t the time. “Nothing,” I answered.

Still, he grasped my chin and tilted my head up. “Look at me.”

I squeezed my eyes closed.

“Vivienne.”

There was that tone again, the deep, authoritative growl I was helpless to deny. I opened my eyes, seeing the desperate concern in his. “You okay?”

My belly dropped as the elevator stopped at the first floor. I gave a nod, steadying myself as I let go of the elevator wall. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” he disagreed.

But it was too late to answer, too late to tell him the truth.

No, I wasn’t fine.

I wasn’t anywhere near fine.

I held a secret, one I was keeping from him.

One that would change everything if he knew.

“Vivienne.” He called my name as I stumbled from the elevator.

The bright foyer lights and the afternoon sun were blinding, still I stumbled for that door.

For the fresh breath of air…and the desperate, fleeing seconds I needed to pull myself together.

I’m fine, I told myself as I remembered the thin white test I’d left on the counter in my bathroom.

A test that was undeniably positive.