Claimed (Blood Ties Book 6)

“Vivienne…” I lashed out, grabbing her arm as she reached for the door handle. “Carven’s dangerous.”

Those beautiful brown eyes that always sparkled with excitement were dull and lifeless as she answered. “London.” She looked at my hand on her arm. “Right now, we’re all dangerous.”

I could do nothing but let her go as she climbed from the car, then pushed into a run after Carven, following him into that warehouse he shared with his brother. My heart boomed as I watched her disappear. She’d follow him into the bowels of Hell to get Colt back. She’d hunt. She’d kill. She’d do whatever it took to keep those we loved safe.

Finally, our Wildcat was one of us.

Now all we needed was Colt.

I’d failed…

I’d. Failed.

The words lashed like a whip. I would beat myself to death with them if I thought they’d bring my son home. But they wouldn’t…power would.

I tore my focus from the warehouse, shoved the Audi into gear, and punched the accelerator.

In my mind there was only one place to start. Hale’s fastest way out of the city, his private jet. I swung the wheel and drove my foot against the accelerator, driving to the outskirts of the city to where the private hangar sat.

I knew the road well. My Gulfstream was tucked away in the same complex. My pilot was on standby, the jet fueled and ready to go at a moment’s notice.

If Hale was running…it’d be fast and under the radar. So this was perfect. I gripped the wheel and focused on the road. But it didn’t matter how hard I stared at the flashing white lines as they passed me. Vivienne’s words rose to haunt me.

Right now, we’re all dangerous…

I clenched my jaw as the sparkling lights from the hangar shone in the distance. She couldn’t be more fucking right. I never slowed, even when the road veered to the left and away from the private area. The place was illuminated by security floodlights, hidden behind a high eight-foot fence topped with razor wire. But that didn’t stop me from jerking the wheel and hurtling the Audi toward the gates.

Thanks to Vivienne, I knew the car could withstand the impact.

I clenched my grip, ground my teeth, and braced for impact as the Audi hit the gates with a brutal bang. The locks on the gate shattered as I flew forward, hitting the steering wheel hard enough to knock my breath free in a whoosh. Steel scraped as I burst in and tore toward the far end of the massive steel building. Lights were on in the hangar Hale owned, the shine spilling under the door.

I fixed on that glow as I pumped the brakes and wrenched the steering, skidding the car to a stop just outside the cracked open roller door. There was no room for thinking now. I acted on emotion alone as I stabbed the seatbelt and shoved out of the door.

My boots thundered as I yanked my gun from the waistband of my pants and ran. I ached to put a fucking bullet in Hale’s brain, right after I got Colt back. Then I’d wipe that motherfucker from this world…forever.

I focused on that feeling as I grabbed the open roller door and shoved, striding into the private hangar. Hale’s Boeing 767 was still there. Gleaming. Perfect…and silent. I scanned the space, searching for Hale or his pilot. Maybe I caught them before they geared up?

My footsteps were quiet as I lifted the gun and took aim. I’d take out his pilot, Ulrich, if I could. He had another on standby, but if it cost him time before he fled the state and the country, then I’d fucking take it. Anything to give me a few more precious moments to track Colt down.

But the moment I stepped around the front of the jet, I realized something was off. There was no pilot, just a worker sweeping the concrete floor of the hangar like it was a normal fucking day. He worked with his back to me, earphones on, humming away, oblivious to me standing behind him with the gun in my hand and murder on my mind.

My mind raced as I glanced around the space. I’d thought for sure he would be here…but he wasn’t. I took a step backwards, moving without a sound, until I stepped around the nose of the plane and kept on moving.

Hale wasn’t flying.

That meant only one thing.

He was still here…

I strode out of the hangar and climbed back into the Audi, ignoring the cracked headlights and deep gouges at the front. My thoughts turned to the many dark corners that cockroach could hide in and, as I backed out and drove forward, one pushed to the front of my mind. If he wasn’t at The Command Room, then he wouldn’t be far away.

After all…it was where he enjoyed watching the Daughters ply their skills.

I flew past the open gates of the hangar area and kept driving.

Thoughts pushed in…I killed her…I killed Ophelia.

“Jesus, Colt,” I murmured. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

My gut clenched at the thought of my son being pushed to do what he had. Blood-matted hair, a smashed in skull. Ophelia had looked like she’d been in a car wreck. But it wasn’t a car that had done that…it was my son.

The kind of rage that came from someone broken.

I fixed my gaze on the lights of the city and turned along the built-up streets, heading to the whorehouse that doubled as a nightclub for the elite. The place where Hale came alive. I jerked the wheel and pulled into the small backstreet that led to the club, then braked at the entrance.

Cars packed the small parking lot. I braked behind a sleek black Bentley and climbed out. The faint thud of a heavy beat reverberated in the air, growing stronger as I headed for the rear door. There was no downtime in this place, just a constant, steady stream of Daughters from The Order and men who paid well to use them.

I swallowed hard as I punched in the code for the rear door. A code I’d used enough times to commit to memory. A code I’d never wanted to use again. That heavy beat vibrated through the handle. I turned, pushed through the door, and stepped into the darkened hallway.

There were already Daughters waiting.

One knelt on the floor just inside the doorway. The sheer red lingerie drew my gaze as I closed the door behind me. She was posed for that act alone. Just inside enough that I had to look down on her…

I imagined what that image might invoke in another man. It’d make him feel…superior, powerful…dangerous, for her, that is.

I swallowed hard, my gaze moving over her bowed head and parted thighs. Shaved and clean. She wore suspenders hanging lose and nothing else, leaving her bare and open to view.

My cheeks burned as I looked away. But there were five more of them waiting. Barely dressed, conditioned to be used.

“I like pain,” a blonde with bright blue eyes murmured as I stepped close.

“I fucking doubt that.” I kept moving. “Very much.”

These women didn’t know what the fuck they liked and Vivienne could easily have been one of them. That fucking nerve pulsed at the corner of my eye as the image of her held down on Daniels’ desk flooded my mind.

They would’ve all taken turns with her that night.

They’d have left her fucking brutalized…then they’d have sent her here. To be whored out and eventually sold. This was where they brought all the problem Daughters, wasn’t it?

I felt sick at the fucking thought.

And goddamn dangerous.

I lifted the gun and moved along the hallway to where rows of rooms and Daughters waited. Because why have one when you can fuck your way through a whole breed of them? Only I wasn’t here to fuck. I was here to hunt.

Movement came from the far end of the hall as a bouncer stepped out from one of the rooms and reached for his fly. One yank and his zipper rose as he snarled. “Next time, you’ll learn to say yes, won’t you?”

I was already lifting my gun, already taking aim as he jerked that cruel gaze to mine. “What the fuck?”

I grabbed his shirt and drove him backwards, all the way until he hit the far wall. “Where the fuck is he?”

He glanced at the doorway behind me. Still, I already felt her slinking from the room and out into the hall.

“Eyes on me, motherfucker. She’s not going to help you now.”

From the corner of my eye, I watched the Daughter come near. The shine of blood drew my focus, making me turn my head for just a second. Her lips were busted, the red mark of a handprint bright on her cheek.

“Please don’t hurt him,” she whispered, fear etched into her tone.

I turned back, shoving my gun hard into his stomach. “Not if he tells me what I want to know. Where is Haelstrom Hale?”

There was a scowl from the bouncer, then a cold fucking smirk. “Why? Did he take your bitch?”

“London,” came the deep, careful tone behind me, accompanied by the heavy thud of boots. “Why don’t we take this into my office?”

The corner of my mouth twitched. And just like that, the cockroaches come…with the right motivation. I fixed on the berating piece of shit and shoved the bouncer hard against the wall. “You like to hit women?” I lifted the gun, then pressed it to his wrist before I pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Making sure the bullet shattered the bones and shredded the nerves. “I’ll make sure you never hit anyone…ever again.”

He unleashed a roar, grabbing hold of his arm. I left him in agony, took a step backwards, and turned.

Atwood stood behind me, not once glancing at his ruined bodyguard.

“Fuck you!” The bastard screamed.

“You did us a favor.” Atwood turned around and started walking. “It was time to fire him, anyway.”

I followed as men stumbled from the rooms, some partly dressed, others buck naked with softening hard-ons. I never glanced their way as I left the whorehouse behind and followed Hale’s pimp toward the nightclub. A massive guard stood sentry at the door. One nod from Atwood and he stepped to the side, opening the door for us to walk through.

That heavy beat reverberated, pulsing through my body. I gripped the gun and skirted the barely lit dance floor, sidestepping the dancers. Atwood slipped away, disappearing for a second between the gyrating bodies before I stepped through.

Then he climbed the steps that led to the office and security room on the floor above. I never looked over my shoulder at the packed club, just focused on the man in front of me…a man that’d give me what I wanted…or else.

His fingers moved over the keypad outside the door before he pushed in. The door closed with a heavy thud behind us, instantly blocking out most of the music. Still, I felt it shuddering the floor as we headed past the security room to the office in the back of the place.

Atwood never once faltered, just stepped inside his office and waved to the plush leather seat on the near side of his desk. “You know your way around.” He flopped into the well-cushioned chair behind him and lifted his gaze to mine.

I didn’t sit, just stood on the other side of the desk and looked down at him. “Where is he?”

Atwood gave a shrug. “How the fuck do I know? He hasn’t answered my calls in days.”

I leaned down, gripping the edge of the desk with the gun in my hand and stared into those unflinching eyes. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Believe what you fucking want.” He exhaled slowly. “I thought you were here to clean house.”

I almost believed him as he slowly opened the top draw of his desk and carefully pulled out his phone. His fingers moved across the keypad, unlocking the damn thing before he pulled up his call log.

There it was…

A screen full of missed calls to Hale.

Atwood gave a nod. “I’m not lying. I thought Hale sent you here to fucking kill me.”

Hale’s empty house was one thing…but no communication with his money maker was a whole other thing all together.

“When did you hear from him last?”

He licked his lips.

My gut clenched at the movement.

“Two weeks ago,” he answered.

He’s lying.

I searched his gaze. “What happened two weeks ago?”

There was a scowl before his gaze flicked to a cupboard on the right-hand side of the room. “Y-you tell me, London. What the fuck is going on with you? You take the bitch that was contracted to Daniels, then you fucking kill him? Jesus Christ. Everyone says you’re gone in the head, that you’re a dog to be put down.”

“A dog, huh?” I repeated. “And what do you think?”

He glanced at that cupboard again…for the second time. I slowly rose as his cheeks flared red.

“I think you have your reasons. But I’m not part of this. Whatever you and Hale have, it’s between you.” He shook his head, his tone faltering as I took a step backwards and moved to the cupboard that seemed to hold his interest so much.

“St. James,” Atwood urged as I stopped at the red cedar door. The paneling on the front was a jar, as though someone had tried to stow something inside…in a hurry.

I pushed the door aside, to find papers shoved sideways just inside. I reached in, grabbed them, and pulled them free.

Contract for London St. James.

That twitch flared at the corner of my eye as I quickly scanned the first paragraphs. “A million dollars, huh?” I muttered, stopping at Hale’s signature at the bottom. “Seems a little low to me.”

I lifted my gun at the same time I turned my head. My finger was already squeezing the trigger as his eyes widened.

“No! Wait—”

Bang!

His head flew backwards. Blood bloomed. I was already swinging the gun toward the door as the heavy thud of boots came. The moment the door opened, I fired, hitting the guard in the middle of the chest. Then I moved, taking out three more guards as I moved to the door of the nightclub.

By the time I made my way downstairs, they were all dead.

Still the dancers kept dancing.

People kept partying.

I made my way through the crowd, meeting the bouncer at the door that connected the rooms out back. He scowled, glancing behind me. “Mr. Atwood?”

His words barely reached my ears as I lifted the gun, took aim, and fired.

Crack!

The sound echoed. Then came the screams. But I didn’t look behind me, nor did I care. My focus was on the contract in my grip as I pushed through the door and fired, taking out two more guards as they rushed toward me.

The Daughters would run…if they were smart.

My phone was in my hand before I shoved through the rear door to The Command and stepped out. One press of the button and it was answered instantly.

“Guild, it’s time to call in every favor I’m owed. I don’t care who it is. I don’t care how hard you have to push them. I want them all to know that after tonight, they’re either on my side…or in my fucking way. From now on, there are no sidelines.” I strode toward the Audi, my focus on the paper in my hands. “Let them all know there’s three million dollars to the person who brings me Haelstrom Hale alive.”

“Three million?” he muttered. “That’s a lot of fucking money, London. You sure you want to bid that high?”

“Believe me…” I yanked open the driver’s door to the car and climbed in. “That’s just for starters. Call Harper, tell him to send out the calls. I’m on my way to see the Rossis…then I’m going to Wolfe.”

“Whatever you need. Consider it done.”

“Just find my son, Guild. That’s all I want.”

Tires howled in the background. The engine of his car gunned as my best friend drove hard. “Believe me…that’s what we all want.”

I ended the call and stared at the crumpled pages in my hand. “A million fucking dollars? You always were a cheap motherfucker.”

And I was the money man…only now I needed a lot more of it.

I shoved the car into gear, wincing at the hard glare of the sun as it peeked over the horizon. The night was over and still no sign of Colt…that alone made me feel sick.

“I’m coming for you, son,” I muttered as I leaned down on the accelerator. “Just hold on…I’m coming.”