Chapter 15

Triana came to with a throbbing headache and the strange sensation of someone tugging at her wet clothes. Her head hurt like hell and she was so out of it that it took a moment to force her eyes open. When she finally did, she saw Quinn’s scratched and ugly mug a few inches from her face like he was going to kiss her. Then she realized he was tugging at her shirt, trying to undress her. She screamed and tried to shove him away only to discover she was sitting in a chair with her hands tied together in front of her and a rope around her waist holding her down.

“Get the hell away from me!” she yelled, twisting her upper body to get his hands off her shirt while clubbing at him with her tied-up hands at the same time.

Quinn laughed and backed away. “Relax. Damn, I was only loosening your wet clothes so you can breathe better. Figured I should make sure you’re comfortable since you might be here a while.”

That’s when everything came rushing back—her stupid plan to slip into the Mardi Gras warehouse to get a look at the man who’d killed her father, Quinn shooting that other guy and roughing her up, then telling her he was bringing her to Mr. Lee.

“What do you want with me?” she asked in a terrified rush, hating to look scared in front of Quinn but too desperate for information to keep quiet. “Why did you bring me here?”

Quinn regarded her in silence, his expression so damn creepy it made her skin want to crawl off and go hide. Finally, he walked over and casually sat down in a chair that matched the one she was trussed up in and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. Triana looked around and realized she was in a study with books all around, a wall of fancy windows to one side and a set of heavy double doors to the other.

“Maybe I wanted to spend a little quality time with you, since you obviously went to so much work to find me and all,” Quinn said. “That’s why you were at that warehouse, right? Because you figured out I was involved in your father’s murder?”

At the mention of her father, Triana was nearly overwhelmed with a wild urge to charge out of the chair and attack the monster in front of her. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that she was currently tied down to the aforementioned chair. Well, that and the knowledge Quinn could swat her down like a fly anytime he wanted. So she swallowed her anger and fear, and realized that while he hadn’t actually answered her question about why he’d brought her there, he had let one thing slip.

He said that he’d been involved in her father’s murder, not that he’d killed him. If he was as much of a braggart as Dominic had said, wouldn’t he take credit for it, especially since he had her right in front of him?

“How’d you find me?” Quinn prompted when she didn’t say anything. “Did someone help you?”

Triana knew he was fishing to see if there was anyone who might know she’d been kidnapped, and for a moment she didn’t know how to answer. If she admitted there was a private investigator involved, would he kill her now and get rid of her body quickly? Or would he hesitate, afraid her disappearance would be traced back to him?

She had to say something though, or he’d simply kill her to be on the safe side. So she went with what she hoped was the least threatening answer and prayed Dominic had stayed around the warehouse long enough to see Quinn grab her, then called the cops. Part of her even hoped Remy and his SWAT teammates might be on the way to her at that moment. It was an insane thought, but she was scared and needed to grab hold of something to give her hope.

“I found you on my own,” Triana said. “I spent months looking and finally talked to someone in a bar who said they remembered hearing a man brag about killing my father. They described you, so you were easy to find after that.”

Quinn laughed, and she thought she saw relief on his face. “Yeah, I guess I am kind of easy to spot. Still, it’s impressive you tracked me down. You really are like your father. He was too damn stubborn for his own good too.”

The way Quinn looked at her as he spoke made her insides turn to mush.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked, steeling herself for the answer.

He shrugged. “Probably at some point, but Mr. Lee has something he needs out of you first, so it’s really up to him.”

It was hard to sit there and not flinch at the casual way Quinn dismissed her death as a foregone conclusion. But she forced herself to focus on something else, anything other than what this man was planning to do to her.

“Who is this Mr. Lee and what does he want from me?”

“My boss wants that damn wolf necklace your father used to wear,” Quinn said. “He tried to use a middle man to buy it from your mother, some stupid-ass lawyer named Murphy, but she wouldn’t sell it.”

Triana blinked. Quinn’s boss was the rich client who’d hired that lawyer to harass her mother? All because of some necklace? That didn’t make any sense.

“Murphy must have thought there was going to be some big payout if he got Mr. Lee the necklace because he sent some local muscle to your mother’s shop to steal it last night. That didn’t work either, so I picked the guy up at his house and drove him out to the river, where I put a bullet in his head.” Quinn’s lips curled. “As they say in baseball, three strikes and you’re out.”

Triana gasped. This psycho had killed Kenneth Murphy because he’d failed to get a necklace? He really was insane.

“Mr. Lee decided he was done playing around and told me to go pick you up,” Quinn continued. “He figures your mother will trade the necklace for you. Between you and me though, after she shows up with it, I doubt either one of you will be leaving.”

Triana refused to think about this man hurting her mom, knowing it would just make her fall apart. Instead she scoured her memories, trying to figure out if she’d ever heard of Lee before, but the name wasn’t familiar.

“Why would Mr. Lee want my father’s necklace?” she asked.

Quinn gave her a funny look, then shook his head. “Shit, you don’t even know, do you? You have no idea what your dad really was?” When Triana regarded him in confusion, he continued. “Mr. Lee is a powerful man who’s getting a little long in the tooth. People are starting to nip at the edges of his empire because they don’t believe he’s strong enough to defend it himself anymore, and that pisses him off. He wants the necklace so he can turn into a werewolf.”

Triana stared, not sure she’d heard right, but then she saw the serious look on his face and realized he actually believed what he was saying.

“You’re insane, you know that, right?” she said. “There’s no such thing as werewolves.”

Quinn shrugged. “I used to think that too, until I saw your dad in action.” He stood and paced in front of her. “I got so damn tired of hearing all those old stories about your father and what a badass he was, about him being strong and fearless. I knew most of the stories were bullshit. Like the one about him getting stabbed and yanking the knife out of his own stomach, or the one Mr. Lee used to tell about your father taking a bullet right in the chest for him, then chasing after the shooter for a mile until he caught him.” Quinn stopped to look at her. “To me he was just another old man who ran a jazz club.”

None of the stuff Quinn was saying made any sense. It sounded like the babbling of a crazy person. But one thing was obvious.

“You knew my father before you helped kill him?”

“Mostly by reputation,” Quinn admitted. “He used to work for Mr. Lee too, before he decided to get married and start a family. I have to admit, he must have been one tough son of a bitch back in the day because he helped Mr. Lee build his criminal empire.” He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Mr. Lee let him be for a long time—some kind of respect shit, I guess. Then the boss decided he wanted to sell drugs out of your father’s club. But old Rufus said no, which put Mr. Lee in a difficult situation. He couldn’t have people thinking he was losing control or getting too weak to deal with some club owner. So, my crew and I went down to your father’s place late one night, planning to break some bones and teach him a lesson.”

Quinn began pacing again, leaving Triana to track his movements.

“It didn’t quite work out the way we expected,” he said quietly, as if remembering that night. “Your father frigging changed in front of us. I’m not shitting you. I’m talking fangs, claws, glowing eyes, the whole nine yards. He turned into a fucking monster. I’ve never seen anything so impossible in my life.” Quinn shrugged. “I was one of the lucky ones. I got tossed through a window and halfway across the street outside. I only cracked a few bones and sliced up some skin. My boys didn’t manage so well. Your father tore them apart—literally. And Mr. Lee had a front row seat to the whole thing. Hell, he should probably be dead right now, but your father must have had a soft spot for him. Told him to drag his ass out of there and never come back.”

Triana had already assumed Quinn was insane. But now, she didn’t even have a word to describe how incredibly bonkers he truly was.

“That was the last mistake your father ever made,” a man’s voice interrupted from the doorway.

Triana turned her head to see a big man in his midfifties standing there with a hard expression on his face.

“You don’t piss on an enemy and let them walk away,” the man said as he stepped into the room and walked over to stand in front of her. “The funny thing about it is that it was your father who taught me that lesson.” Lee studied her thoughtfully. “You look exactly like your mother when she was younger. You definitely have your father’s eyes, though. And apparently his stubborn nature.”

Triana didn’t say anything.

“I thought it would be difficult to find the right kind of people to do the job I needed,” Lee said. “But they aren’t that tough to find if you’re willing to spend the money. You just have to look for people who know how to take down someone who’s hard to get rid of. If you want to kill a particular animal, you merely have to find the right hunter.”

That’s when Triana realized she was in even more trouble than she’d thought. Quinn might be a deranged murderer, but Lee was even worse. The man seemed as cold and dead inside as a vampire.

Suddenly, she hoped with everything in her that Remy and his teammates didn’t come looking for her. She didn’t want these people getting their hands on Remy or anyone else she cared about.

* * *

Remy stood just inside the front door of the warehouse, staring out at the rain coming down again. Another band of the storm was moving through, bringing even more rain and wind than the previous ones. The weather report said it would be like this most of the night, as the eastern edges of the storm slowly passed over the city, though at some point the intermittent crap would be replaced with a nonstop downpour.

Lee’s minions had been hauled away nearly thirty minutes ago, while the techie types had left just a short time ago with all their evidence, including the hundreds of pounds of crystal meth. Remy was glad to get all that crap finally under lock and key. If nothing else, keeping it off the streets represented a couple hundred people who wouldn’t end up in the hospital or the morgue.

Remy rubbed his temples, trying to ease the worst headache he’d ever had in his life. The pounding was so intense it felt like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Unfortunately, even that pain didn’t distract him from the fact that he had no idea where Triana was or how he was going to locate her.

He wanted to go find her as soon as he’d heard Quinn had kidnapped her, but Lorenzo and Drew stopped him, pointing out that Lee owned property all over New Orleans and even more outside the city. There was no telling where Quinn might have taken her.

“What about his home?” Remy asked. “You said he has a big plantation home near the lake, right?”

Lorenzo nodded. “Yeah, up in Kenner. But that’s just one of his houses. What are the chances Quinn took her there? Hell, for all we know, this thing with Triana might not have anything to do with Lee. It might just be Quinn covering up the trail of a murder he committed on his own.”

Remy didn’t even want to think about the part of that Lorenzo had left unsaid—that Quinn might have killed Triana already. He refused to contemplate that, because if he did, he didn’t think he could keep going. He would find Triana and get her back.

A voice in his head asked him what he’d do then regarding the way he felt about her.

One problem at a time.

“Dammit, you shouldn’t have moved without a warrant!”

The shout came from farther back in the warehouse, sending an ice pick of pain lancing through his head. Remy growled, trying to tune out ADA Russo’s incessant whining. The prick had shown up ten minutes ago, losing his mind over the fact that Lorenzo had moved against Aaron Lee without his involvement. Remy had known the man had only gone after Lee for the political gain, but it was like the lawyer couldn’t accept that he’d finally won, even with the evidence on the way to lockup.

Russo was shouting again, some crap about probable cause this time. Remy did his best to shut out the rest. He’d heard the lawyer’s complaints at least ten times already. How the courts would throw out the drugs and everything found in this warehouse due to a lack of probable cause. How that would destroy the link to Aaron Lee and prevent any sane judge from issuing search warrants for the man’s home and businesses. How this had all been nothing but a big waste of time.

Remy was so tired of hearing the man’s crap, not to mention Lorenzo’s and everyone else’s patient attempts to convince Russo the informant’s tip was more than enough to support probable cause.

“Do you really think a judge like Thibodeau, or any judge for that matter, is going to accept the word of a career criminal like Chad Roth over Aaron Lee’s?” Russo let out a short laugh. “Roth will simply come across as a snake who betrayed his own boss, thinking he could take over the operation once Lee was in prison. You’ll get nothing based on that guy’s word.”

Remy’s head was pounding so hard at the moment that he didn’t care what Russo thought about nearly anything, but something about what the man had just said bothered him. Without being sure exactly what it was, he left the doorway and walked toward the back of the warehouse.

When he got there, Russo was babbling on about some stupid idea of not even attempting to pin the drug charges on Lee, insisting it would instead make more sense to charge the men they’d arrested at the warehouse and hope one of them flipped on Lee. Lorenzo must have thought that was insane because he was looking at the ADA as if the man had just grown a flipper out of his head. Drew’s expression was pretty much the same, while Max, Brooks, Zane, and the local SWAT officers that had stayed behind were regarding the lawyer with frowns.

“How did you know Roth was the informant?” Remy asked, his concern with Russo finally taking shape.

Everyone, including the ADA, turned and looked at him in confusion.

“What?” Russo said.

Remy moved closer, gazing down at the lawyer. “You said that no judge would ever take the word of Chad Roth over Lee’s, implying you knew Roth was the informant. It’s a simple question. How did you know Roth was the informant?”

Russo continued to look confused for a moment, then shrugged. “I heard it on the scanner on the way over. The ambulance crew said Chad Roth was the informant and that he’d been critically wounded prior to the raid.”

Remy eyed Russo for a moment, then glanced at Brooks. His pack mate simply gave a slow shake of his head, his eyes deadly serious. Just as he’d thought. Russo was lying. Remy opened his mouth to point that out, but Lorenzo spoke up first.

“The EMTs weren’t given a name, and as far as they knew, he was just one of Lee’s people injured in the raid. They definitely didn’t know he was the informant. And they couldn’t check his wallet for an ID, since I made sure I took it before they left. I wanted him admitted to the hospital as a John Doe in case Lee tried to come after him again.”

Russo looked at each of them, sweat beading on his brow. “Then I must have heard it over the SWAT radio. Simple mistake.”

“This operation has been on radio lockdown from the start. No one announced anything over the radio,” Drew said.

Russo eyes narrowed. “Look, I heard it over one of the radio channels that Roth was the informant. Why the hell does it matter where I heard it since it’s true?”

“Because if we’re right, and you didn’t hear about Roth over the radio, the only way you could have known he was the informant is if someone else told you.” Remy crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone like Aaron Lee or Shelton Quinn.”

Russo looked startled for a minute, then let out a snort. “Right. I’ve been in contact with Lee and his muscle-headed bodyguard because I desperately wanted them to know one of their own people was ratting them out to the cops.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Remy saw Brooks shake his head again, letting him know the lawyer was still full of shit.

“Actually, I think that’s exactly what’s going on here,” Remy said. “I’m sure Lee was thrilled when you passed along Captain Barron’s comments about the informant being in his organization for three years. That must have made it pretty damn easy for Lee to figure out who it was.”

“That’s crazy!” Russo shouted, looking around at each of them as if he expected someone to help him. “You can’t think that I would do something like that.”

Remy shrugged. “We might not, but the investigators at the PIB certainly will, especially when I tell them what Roth whispered in my ear right before he passed out.”

Russo’s eyes stopped darting around to focus on Remy. “No one said anything about Roth making a statement. What did he say?”

Remy knew he was taking a chance lying like this, but he also knew the ADA was about to lose it. The man’s pulse must have been pinging up around 150 beats a minute.

“We didn’t say anything earlier because, honestly, we didn’t really understand what he meant at the time,” Remy said. “I mean, who wouldn’t be confused when a guy in that much pain grabs your tactical vest and rasps out, It’s the lawyer? Of course, now that you slipped up and established your connection to Lee, it makes so much more sense. I’m sure the PIB will agree. They’re going to dig through your life with a microscope until they find the link between you and Lee.”

Russo’s eye widened as Lorenzo pulled his cuffs out. “No way.” He held up both hands as if warding them off. “No way is the PIB going to make a case against me based on the dying declaration of a con like Roth.”

“Probably not,” Remy agreed. “But they’ll certainly base it on the dying declaration of a police officer who spent the past few years undercover so he could get close to Lee.”

Russo turned so pale Remy through the man was going to pass out. “Roth is a cop?”

Remy nodded as Lorenzo walked around behind Russo and put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Yup. And I wouldn’t pin too much hope on Roth not making it. He seems pretty tough to me. Not that it’s going to matter to you. Whether it’s conspiracy to murder a police officer or the actual murder itself, both will get you a needle in the arm.”

As Remy suspected, Russo immediately spilled his guts the moment Lorenzo slapped the cuffs on him, saying he’d only helped Lee because the man had threatened him, that he would testify against Lee in court, and that he never would have gone along with the situation if he’d known Roth was a cop.

Remy didn’t pay attention to the rest as Lorenzo and several of the local SWAT officers took the former ADA away. He’d stopped caring about Russo the moment he confessed. Now that they’d exposed the department’s rat, he went back to worrying about Triana and wondering where she was. He pondered for a second if Russo might know something but dismissed that idea as ridiculous. Lee had used Russo. He sure as hell wouldn’t tell the lawyer anything that might come back to hurt him. If Remy was going to find Triana, it was going to have to be by some other way—like a frigging miracle.

When his phone rang a few minutes later, Remy yanked it out so fast the threads on his pocket tore. He prayed it was Triana, but he didn’t recognize the number. He thumbed the green button and held it to his ear. He’d been hoping for a miracle. Maybe this was it.

“Remy, thank God you answered,” Gemma said. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to reach you with the storm. I need your help.”

His heart sank. Damn. Gemma must have realized Triana was missing and was freaking out. What the hell was he going to tell her? “I’m a little busy right now, Gemma.”

The moment Remy said her name, Max, Brooks, and Zane all turned to look his way. Remy considered keeping the truth from Triana’s mother, thinking it would be easier on her. Gemma’s husband had been violently murdered two years ago. She’d never be able to handle another blow this big.

But he couldn’t do that. Not to Triana’s mother.

“Gemma, I don’t know how to tell you this, but we think Triana has been kidnapped.”

Remy expected Gemma to immediately break down crying, but instead the older woman sighed.

“I know that already,” she said. “Why do you think I called you? I know who has her and where she is. I need you and your friends to get her back for me.”

Remy did a double take. Triana’s mother knew she’d been kidnapped? His pack mates were clearly just as shocked if the way they moved closer was any indication. With their exceptional hearing, they’d obviously heard what Gemma said, even from as far away as they’d been standing.

“What do you mean, you know who has her?” he asked carefully, not wanting to imply that she didn’t have a clue how bad this really was. “How could you know who has her? She was only kidnapped barely more than an hour ago.”

Gemma snorted. “Because the people who took her called me wanting to make a trade.”

Remy exchanged looks with his pack mates, seeing his own confusion reflected in their eyes. “I think you need to start at the beginning, Gemma, because this isn’t making a lot of sense,” he said. “Triana was kidnapped because she was trying to track down the man who killed her father. Why would he want to make a trade?”

The phone was silent for so long that Remy thought the connection might have been broken, but then Gemma’s voice came back firm and strong and more than a little angry.

“Damn headstrong girl. So much like her father.” There was another long sigh. “They want to make a trade because a man named Aaron Lee wants something he thinks I have, and he wants it very badly.”

Remy was just getting over the shock of realizing that Gemma really did know everything that was going on, when it hit him—he knew exactly what was behind Triana’s abduction.

“This is about that damn necklace that lawyer has been trying to buy from you all week, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she said softly. “Lee thinks the necklace will allow him to turn into a werewolf. Of course, he has a good reason to think that since the last man to wear it actually was a werewolf.”

Remy was pretty sure his eyes almost bulged out of his head, and it had nothing to do with his headache. Even so, he was relatively chill compared to his pack mates. They looked like they were going to pass out.

“Um, Gemma,” he murmured. He was desperately trying to understand what the hell was going on, but things were moving too fast. “You know that sounds a little crazy, right?”

Gemma sighed again, louder this time. “Remy, we don’t have time for this. Yes, I know about werewolves. Yes, Rufus was one. And yes, I know that you and your friends from Dallas are all werewolves too. Alphas, actually. Which I have to admit caught me off guard, since it’s very unusual to see multiple alphas able to coexist like the four of you do. Regardless, now that we have the werewolf crap out of the way, can we get back to the important issue of your going to rescue my daughter?”

Remy stood there dumbfounded, the phone pressed to his ear, his head swimming. “Um, okay. So you have this wolf-head necklace that can really turn someone into a werewolf, and Aaron Lee wants it?”

“Yes, he wants it. Unfortunately, even though I offered to give it to him in trade for Triana, I don’t actually have it. It disappeared the night Rufus was murdered. I’d gladly give it in exchange for my daughter, especially since it doesn’t have the power to transform a person into anything, much less a werewolf.”

“Wait, hold on a second. I can’t keep up with all this.” Remy was so frigging confused right then, he didn’t know where to start. “You said Lee knows the necklace can turn him into a werewolf. That’s why he wants it.”

“No,” she replied in a calm, patient voice. “I said he thinks it can turn him into a werewolf, and since he has my daughter, I sure wasn’t going to correct his error. In reality, the necklace was a voodoo spirit charm I made for Rufus before we were married. It was designed to help him control his animal rages.”

Something clicked then about all the things he remembered about Triana’s dad. The size, the mane of shaggy, blond hair, the way he was always so quick to anger, the reputation he had for getting into fights—and finishing them. There was only one kind of werewolf defined by that lack of control and violent behavior.

“Triana’s father was an omega, wasn’t he?” Remy asked.

“Yes, he was,” Gemma said softly. “But he never lost control with Triana or me, not even once. He was the sweetest, gentlest, kindest man when he was with us.” She paused. “I always thought a roving band of hunters had caught up with Rufus, but now I realize Lee must have figured out what my husband was and had his men kill Rufus.”

“If he thought so little of your husband that he wanted him dead, why would he want a necklace he thinks could turn him into the same thing?” Remy asked.

“I don’t know for sure, but as power hungry as Lee has always been, I can only guess it’s for the obvious reason—to make him stronger. A criminal like Lee only stays in power until someone bigger comes along. A man his age has to be thinking about extending his shelf life.”

Remy was silent for a moment. “You told him you’d give him the necklace, even though you don’t have it now?”

“Yes,” Gemma said simply. “He wants me to bring it to his plantation house in Kenner. He was feeling gracious because of the storm, so he told me to be there in two hours.”

“That doesn’t give us a lot of time,” Remy said, wishing he knew more about the plantation house Lee lived in. “How big is this property of his? Any idea what security is like?”

“I was there years and years ago, when Lee and my husband were on somewhat better terms with each other,” Gemma said. “It’s an extremely big place with a high security fence and a lot of wide-open space between the fence and the main house. If it’s like it used to be, he probably has a dozen people working security for him, maybe more now that he’s gotten older and has to worry about people coming after his empire.”

Remy swore as he realized they’d have to hit the place while it was still daylight. “The storm will provide some cover, but getting across those open spaces in the daytime is going to be tough. If security sees us as we’re moving into position, Triana is going to pay the price.”

“That’s why I’ll be going with you,” Gemma said, “to provide a distraction.” Remy opened his mouth to say no way, but she cut him off. “Don’t even start with me. You four are alphas, and I know what alphas can do. But this is my daughter we’re talking about, and I’m going to help get her back. You’re going to need everyone focused on the front gate when you make your move, and I can make that happen.”

“Gemma, it’s too dangerous,” he growled. “I’m not willing to risk your life to save Triana’s. She’d kill me if something happened to you. I’ll find another way.”

“No, you won’t,” Gemma said. “I’m already on the way to Lee’s house right now. You can either let me help you, or figure out how to rescue both of us.”

Remy’s response was equal parts cursing and growling. Shit, she was stubborn as hell. He could understand how Gemma could have been married to an omega werewolf. She was a frigging force of nature.

“Lee is expecting me,” Gemma interrupted. “While I have his attention on me, you and your friends go in there and get my little girl out. I’m depending on you, and whether she knows it or not, so is Triana.”

Remy ground his jaw but forced himself to calm down. “Okay. We’ll do it your way. Just don’t do anything stupid until we get there.”

“I won’t do anything stupid,” Gemma assured him. “Just don’t dawdle. I don’t like the idea of my daughter in the hands of those monsters.”

Neither did Remy.

“We’ll get her out safely. I promise,” he said.

Gemma gave him Lee’s address, and while he didn’t know that particular part of the lake area, he knew he could find it.

As he was about to hang up, Gemma stopped him. “I know alphas are tough, maybe tougher than my Rufus was, but you need to be careful. At least some of Lee’s people know about werewolves and how to kill them. It’s the only thing that explains what they did to my husband.”

Remy promised they’d be careful, even though it was a lie. He was going in there to get Triana back, no matter what he had to do. He didn’t care if he lived through it or not.

He put his phone away, then checked to make sure his pack mates had caught all of the conversation when Drew walked up. “I didn’t hear everything, but I heard enough to know that you’re going after Lee. You aren’t dumb enough to think that I’d let you go alone, are you?”