Brazen (3 page)

Five

Nick

It was almost nine-thirty, which in the Sorrentino household meant dinner hour. They’d never been early diners, but with Reese working nights, they’d shifted the meal even later, so he could eat right before leaving. No one had considered the possibility of separate dining times. In this house dinner was the one time of the day when everyone could be together, if only for an hour or two. Most times, it was two, the huge meal stretching into the night, culminating in the living room with drinks and more conversation.

Antonio was with them. Nick had picked him up at the airport earlier. He didn’t need to—Antonio would be the first to say he could grab a cab. But after being away for a week, he’d much rather get a lift and spend the trip catching up with his son. So Nick always made sure he was there, waiting.

They’d grabbed dinner on the way back, and they were halfway through the meal, food spread across the table, everyone eating as if they hadn’t had a bite all day. Part of it was the werewolf metabolism and part was just family custom, feasting when they came together at night.

Noah didn’t have the same appetite as the rest of them but always stayed until the end, grazing and listening to the conversation. Tonight Reese was doing most of the talking, which was rare, but he had an issue at the plant and was looking for advice.

They were partway through that discussion when Nick’s cell phone buzzed. He was about to shut it off—work or friends could wait until after dinner. But then he saw who it was and said, “I need to take this.” 

•••

Nick took the phone outside, where Antonio wouldn’t overhear his conversation. Vanessa told him what happened—that Tina had apparently been trapped and kidnapped by Malcolm.

“He wants something,” she said. “He’s holding her hostage until he gets it.”

The only thing Malcolm wanted from Tina was amusement. There was no need to talk to Vanessa when Tina could supply any answers he wanted. As for trading her life for his freedom, that was ridiculous. Malcolm would trust no promise to call off the hunt, and he wouldn’t think himself in serious danger anyway.

Nick didn’t tell Vanessa that. She wouldn’t want to believe him—he could hear in her voice how upset she was, though she tried to hide it. He wouldn’t take away her hope, no more than he’d say, “I told you so.” 

While he was sure Malcolm intended to kill Tina, he also knew he’d keep her alive until she’d served her purpose. Nick could get to her first. To his relief, that seemed to be exactly why Vanessa was calling.

“You know him,” she said. “You understand how he thinks.”

Nick doubted any sane person could understand how Malcolm thought, but the Pack knew better than to underestimate him, and with Malcolm, that was where outsiders failed.

Nick checked his watch. “I might still be able to catch a flight tonight.”

“You can. I’ve booked seats on the last plane to Detroit, leaving just before midnight. I know you need to pack a bag—”

“I have one ready. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Good. The ticket will be waiting. I’ll meet you at the gate.”

“Meet—? You’re—?”

“It’s my agent. I’m coming along.”

“No. That doesn’t help, and it only endangers—”

“I’ll see you at the gate.”

She hung up. Nick hesitated, then glanced at his watch again. No time to call her back and argue. They’d settle this at the gate.

•••

Nick had taken that phone call in private, because Antonio had no idea he was spearheading the campaign to find Malcolm. If he did…well, Nick was a little old for his father to forbid him to do anything, but in this case, Antonio would sure as hell try. 

Antonio knew Malcolm was alive. He’d had to be warned. He thought, though, that Elena and Clay were hunting him. Nick would help, of course. Antonio might even be fine with Nick hiring Rhys’s team and liaising with them, as long as any involvement stopped short of Nick getting within a hundred miles of Malcolm. Which was why Nick had said nothing, as hard as it was to keep something like that from Antonio.

There was a reason Nick had no reputation in the werewolf world. Because his father had done everything in his power to shield Nick from the fights and challenges that would earn him one. When he was young, he’d even been forbidden to travel without other werewolves, for fear some mutt would decide to see what Antonio Sorrentino’s son was made of.

It’d been a serious point of contention and resentment when Nick was young. He could remember begging Clay to set up challenge fights for him, as Clay climbed the ranks himself. A few times Clay did have a challenger to spare, but even then, when Nick won his bout, all he heard about afterward was Clay. 

In the werewolf world, if you didn’t have a rep, you were invisible. Then Jeremy became Alpha. A werewolf who’d rarely fought a bout, because Clay would quietly intercept all challengers to protect him. In the past, the Alpha had to be the strongest werewolf in the Pack. But times had changed and Jeremy had other qualities that made him the perfect leader for the twenty-first century. With his ascension, the pressure to gain a reputation eased, and Nick had relaxed. His Pack valued him. Any mutt he encountered discovered he was a perfectly fine fighter. And Antonio could rest easy, knowing his son was safe, which was the main thing. 

As for why it was so important, Nick understood that, too. The circumstances of Nick’s birth, Antonio’s guilt… Even if they never spoke of it, Nick knew what had happened and why Antonio had kept him close and safe.

So Nick made his excuses—Pack business, Elena needed him to check something out—and then he took off. He reached the end of the long lane to see someone there, a blond figure leaning against the gate, and for a moment, he saw Clay, half a lifetime ago, staking out the end of the drive, waiting for him.

“You going somewhere, Nicky? Not after that mutt they spotted in the city, I hope.”

But it wasn’t Clay. It was Reese. Nick pulled over and put down the window. Reese leaned in.

“Where is he?” Reese asked.

“Who?”

“Malcolm.” Reese raised a hand against his protest. “Yeah, I’ve figured it out. You need to work on your stealth skills, Nick. You aren’t very good at it.”

Nor was he any good at denying it, especially given his pact of honesty with the boys. “He’s been spotted in Detroit. I hired Rhys to find him. There’s…a bit of a balls-up. I’m going to sort it out. Yes, Elena knows. No, Antonio doesn’t. Obviously, I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

“Sure.”

The agreement came quickly, surprising Nick. Reese shrugged. “I know how he is. And I know you’re not heading off to take on Malcolm yourself.”

Nick gave a short laugh. “No. I’m not that stupid. Once I’ve confirmed the situation, I’ll bring Clay in.”

“Good.” 

Reese walked around the car and opened the passenger door. Nick caught and held it.

“I’m coming with you,” Reese said. “Yes, it’s basic recon work. Yes, you can handle it. But you should have backup.”

“I do. One of the agents.”

“Doesn’t count,” Reese said. “This is werewolf business.”

Nick hesitated. He’d vowed not to be his father. Yes, he’d protect the boys, but he wouldn’t coddle them. But as he paused, his gaze went to Reese’s hand, still gripping the door. His two maimed fingers. Chopped off by a couple of mutts in Anchorage, a warning telling Reese to get out of their territory, but also simply for sport. Reese hadn’t been ready to handle them. He might be now, but he sure as hell wasn’t ready for Malcolm.

“Not this time,” Nick said. “I need you here.”

“Um, no,” Reese leaned down, meeting Nick’s gaze. “You need me there. Backing you up.”

“Not with Malcolm.”

“Because he’s a badass. And a psychopath. I’ve heard the stories. Hell, I heard them all the way in Australia, long after he was supposed to be dead. All the more reason for you to have backup.”

“Which I will. With Clay, as soon as I’ve confirmed the situation. I can handle this, Reese.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” 

As Nick stared him down, Reese dropped his gaze, grumbling slightly, knowing that if he insisted, he
was
saying Nick couldn’t handle it.

“I’ll call if I need you,” Nick said.

“Bullshit.”

Nick met his gaze. “If I say I will, I will. You know that.”

Again, Reese grumbled and looked away, but he nodded, saying a “Fine” that insisted it wasn’t fine at all, then shut the door and let Nick drive away without him.

Six

Nick

Nick had less luck persuading Vanessa to stay behind. Admittedly, he didn’t try very hard, after telling Reese he’d have an agent backing him up. He’d already strained the truth a little by saying he’d told Elena. He’d texted to say that the handler lost touch with her agent so he was flying out that night. Once he had visual confirmation of Malcolm, he’d call Clay in. All technically true. He’d just left out the part where Vanessa was pretty damned sure her agent had been kidnapped. 

So Nick really should have backup. And Vanessa came fully prepared, with a field agent kit. It was hard to turn down that kind of help.

Vanessa had bought them first-class tickets. Probably assumed he wouldn’t fly coach. Not necessarily true—he was as flexible in that as in everything else—but yes, given the choice, he’d take the extra leg and elbow room. Their seats were together, which was less comfortable. While she was obviously very concerned about Tina, he couldn’t forget that this whole mess might have been avoided if she’d listened to him. Also, while he wasn’t one to hold a grudge, her early mockery still stung. If it wouldn’t have been rude, he might have switched his seat. As it was, he just worked quietly on his laptop.

Halfway through the short flight, Vanessa cleared her throat and said, “Tell me about Malcolm Danvers.”

He glanced over. She had her laptop out, and what looked like Malcolm’s dossier right there, and he wanted to say, “Read it,” but that was being pissy. Presumably she had. She followed his gaze, though, and guessed what he’d been thinking.

“I have his file from Elena,” she said. “His bio, it seems. Heavily redacted.”

“I’m sure she didn’t remove anything you need to identify him. Or to know what he’s capable of.”

“No, but it’s like reading the arrest file for someone who was never charged with a crime. You don’t see that many allegations without some basis for them, but without a charge or a trial, there’s nothing in-depth. No motivation. No insight into the man.”

“I’m not sure I can provide that either. I knew him for half my life, but we weren’t close. Malcolm had his favorites. Thankfully, I wasn’t one of them.”

“Who was?”

Nick hesitated, but he could think of nothing Elena wouldn’t want him discussing. “Antonio—my father—and Clay. Jeremy was…not the kind of son Malcolm wanted. He looked for substitutes. Antonio was a fighter, and that always topped Malcolm’s list of requirements. But when Clay came along…?” Nick shrugged. “Antonio isn’t…aggressive. There’s no edge. No anger. He fights for the physical challenge. Clay has edge. He was bitten as a child. He embraces his wolf side more than any of us. Malcolm was fascinated by him. He didn’t understand him, though. Whatever Clay’s rep, he’s no psycho. If you threaten his family, he won’t think twice about killing you. But otherwise? I’ve never seen him lay a finger on anyone for sport. He wouldn’t understand that, any more than a real wolf would. Violence is for problem-solving. Malcolm didn’t get that. If Clay wouldn’t hunt mutts, Malcolm blamed Jeremy’s influence. It didn’t matter how much Clay hated Malcolm—and he hated him more than anyone, for how he treated Jeremy—Malcolm never stopped pursuing him.”

“As a substitute son? Or…more?”

“Antonio always thought there was more, at least when Malcolm chased
him
. There was no shortage of women in Malcolm’s life. But he had only contempt for them, and humans in general. So…” Nick shrugged. “Maybe some confusion there. Looking to make a connection, whatever that connection might be.”

“Is Elena in danger then? If Malcolm wanted a woman of his own kind, there is one now. Only one.”

“He won’t go after her like that. It’d be easier if he would—we could lay a trap for him. She’s a woman so she’s weak.”

“Except she kicked his ass.”

Nick smiled at the thought. “True, but Elena belongs to Clay, so she’s relatively safe. Same with me.”

“Because you’re Antonio’s son.”

He nodded. “Malcolm never pursued me, but he treated me well. For Antonio’s sake. I’d say that means he won’t come after me, but I’d never make that presumption. It only means I’m unlikely to draw his immediate fire.”

“He’ll think twice before attacking you.”

“No, but he’ll think twice before
killing
me. With Malcolm, that’s what counts.”

•••

“According to the GPS from Tina’s phone, she was somewhere around here when she called. It was shut off after…Nick?”

They’d arrived in Detroit an hour ago, rented a car and drove to this neighborhood. They’d been walking for about ten minutes as Nick followed the trail. He’d move ahead while Vanessa had been talking. Now he lifted a hand, telling her to be quiet as he listened. The night was still and silent. Nick could see signs that it hadn’t always been like that. There had been shops, but they were long closed and boarded up. An empty block, inhabited only by homeless people and vermin. Vermin of the animal variety, that is even gangbangers and dealers didn’t see any profit in a place without people. Contrary to what the news reports might suggest, the whole city of Detroit wasn’t like this, but there were pockets of it. A modern-day ghost town.

Tina should have taken one look around and known she was being led into a trap. But she’d been too cocky. He’d gotten that vibe from her when they met, and it was part of what made him decide they wouldn’t spend the night together. Here, she would have looked around and thought this was the perfect place to catch her prey, without ever once realizing Malcolm was thinking the same thing.

“Stay close,” Nick said as he set out.

“We should do this methodically,” Vanessa whispered as she jogged to catch up. “She said it was a blind alley so if we cover the area strip by strip—”

“No need,” he said. “I have her trail.”

“Oh. I forgot…I’ll cover you.”

She had a gun. Nick hadn’t asked how she got it through security—it’d been checked with the rest of her kit, that’s all he knew. While she’d readily admitted that she hadn’t been in the field for a few years, she seemed to know what she was doing, so he left her to it and focused on Tina’s trail.

Even without it, he could have guessed where she was heading—he could see two burnt-out streetlights ahead and a dark roadway that seemed to lead to a dead end.

Sure enough, that’s where Tina’s trail went. Only hers entered the blind alley, though. That gave him pause, but he continued following the trail until—

The scent hit him so hard that he stopped in mid-stride. It was no stronger than Tina’s, but it was like cold fingers reaching deep into his brain to pluck out a memory long buried.

“Malcolm,” he murmured.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said, with a little more impatience than he intended.

“Sorry. It’s been a decade,” she said. “It’s just that…you expected to smell him here, so—”

“Werewolves don’t forget scents they know that well. Even if I did, I can tell he’s a werewolf and he’s related to Jeremy.” Nick walked to the building on the left. “He was on the roof. He jumped her. Then…” He followed Tina’s scent back to the road.

“He took her that way.” She pointed back the direction they’d come.

Nick shook his head. “I only smell Tina.”

“She escaped?”

“No, he let her go.”

Vanessa walked back to the road and looked down it. “That’s not possible. She would have called as soon as she found a pay phone.”

“He didn’t release her. He let her run so he could chase.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun,” Nick said and set out along the exit trail.