Page 28 of Savage Trap

In Chicago, there’s downtown, known as the Loop, and then there’s the Court. It’s a rabbit warren of twisted streets and underground tunnels, all controlled by the Alpha Kings. They’re a gang of violent alphas who, according to rumor, bite not to bond, but to create a feral shifter army. No doubt exaggerated, but it’s a corner of the city where even my dad’s lieutenants are wary to venture.

Finch Street is on the edge of their territory, but you don’t have to look far to find a dark wall painted with a flaming red crown in violent slashes.

“Do you want me to wait?” the driver asks as he pulls over to the curb.

I ignore his concerned frown. “I’ll be fine, but can you drop this back at reception?” I gesture to my leather briefcase beside me. It doesn’t have a lot in it, since anything important is on my private cloud, but I don’t want to be carting it around where I’m going.

He nods, but when I’m on the pavement, takes his time leaving and I know he’s probably calling Trench. Too bad. The Head of Security only got the position because of me, and his little empire only extends as far as I want it to. Which definitely doesn’t include my business with the Alpha Kings.

Not that they come out to greet me personally, or anything.

I go to the black metal door behind the bakery and flash my face at the overhead camera. Their system automatically recognizes me, although I wouldn’t get two steps past the behemoth waiting on the other side if I didn’t have the password for the evening. After that’s out of the way, I follow his lumbering stride through a bunch of narrow corridors that smell of charcoal and sewer water. The pathway to hell, according to some of the people I’ve met here. Although for someone like me, it’s the exact opposite. It’s salvation.

We eventually come out into the basement of the club. Its street name is The Feral Den, since subtlety isn’t in the Alpha Kings’ handbook, either. It has a flashy bar that caters to the city’s elite, but I’ve only ever entered this way, straight into the bowels with its cages and dungeons.

There’s a man waiting for me, sitting on a stool next to a set of cages. Each one is equipped like a cell, with a stone floor, a waste bucket, and a couple of jute bags to lie on, but none of them are big enough to stand up in. He looks me over, taking in my Tom Ford navy suit and designer frames. “You’re back?”

I recognize him, of course. Even if I didn’t have a photographic memory, every face I meet down here is burned into my brain. He’s an alpha, with pock-marked cheeks and flat brown eyes. His hoodie is ratty, his jeans dirty at the knees, but his watch is a Ulysse Nardin. It’s probably stolen, but since I’ve also rifled through his bank accounts, I know that working for the Alpha Kings is a lucrative business.

“The dance card is full tonight,” he tells me, picking at his teeth with a claw. It’s a common thing down here; alphas flaunting their shift control in our faces. Like waving a sirloin steak in front of a starving dog – petty, but good at putting us in our place. “You want to hang around, or pay extra to get someone else bumped?”

I’m already pulling out my phone. “Bump them. I’ll transfer the funds now.”

Amusement dances in his dead brown eyes, but he pulls out his phone and starts tapping away. It’s already approaching midnight, so after I’ve deposited the extra money in The Feral Den account, I shoot a text to my assistant, asking her to move a few morning meetings. When I’m done, I turn off my phone and drop it in the trash bag the alpha’s holding out for me. My glasses follow, along with my tie pin, house keys, and wallet. My clothes go on top, starting with my shoes, and I don’t stop until I’m standing naked in front of him.

His eyes rake over me, taking in my scars, and he clicks his tongue. “You’re an addict, man. How many times have you done this?” When I ignore him, he runs his claw down my sternum, a dark light in his eyes. “You suck me off, and I’ll pull your bitch out in under a minute. A little give and take will save you a bunch of pain.”

I pay his masters a large sum of money to help me with a problem, not to get propositioned by a lowlife guard, and I don’t try to hide my disdain. “If you’re such a big wolf, why are you down here sitting on a stool instead of up there ruling the court with the kings?”

Probably a question he’s asked himself many times, which is why he lunges at me, grabbing my throat.

“Fuck you, runt,” he spits, pulling the door to the nearest cage open. He pushes me in, using enough of his strength to make me stumble.

But I keep on my feet, and even though my back is bent from the low roof, I give him a cold look. “I paid extra, so you better make sure I’m on within the hour, or I’ll be issuing a complaint to your employers.”

No doubt he feels like reaching through the bars and strangling me right now, but dead clients don’t pay. Still, he can’t resist loosening a glob of phlegm in his throat and spitting it in my face. “You’ll get your fucking turn, runt. But a little extra time on your knees will be good practice.”

Elvi

“I thought you’d bring more reinforcements,” Bryce Rawson says with a smirk in Rory’s direction. “You always travel this light?”

We’re in the back of the twin’s rented SUV, on our way to an alpha club downtown. I don’t know if Nate’s really there, or if he even needs our help, but the plan is at least to find out. As for reinforcements, Link is back in the hotel suite tracking us, while also digging the dirt on the Rawsons from Atlanta, Georgia. Kelly, thankfully, was happy to stay with him and help, while Cam is following us in another car. Depending on what happens, he’ll either stay in the background, or if things go sideways, provide a secondary avenue to get Nate out. This isn’t our first rodeo, after all.

“Nah, but I’m alpha enough to take on you lightweights,” Rory says with a typical shit-eating wink. “So don’t be getting any ideas, okay?”

The twins exchange a look that I’m fast growing tired of – as if they know something we don’t, and it amuses the hell out of them. They’re also looking at Rory like he’s the lightweight, but the joke is definitely on them. Out of all of my alphas, the only wolf stronger than Rory is Arben. Link can shoot anything that moves, and Cam is dangerous when he’s provoked, but Rory is on a whole other level. Of course, most people just look at his pretty face and flirty attitude and write him off, which is what makes him such a formidable threat.

Yep, I’m just that good. Rory clearly can sense enough of my thoughts through the bond to inflate his already high opinion of himself. But when he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles, there isn’t a hint of mockery in his green eyes. You bring out the monster in me, sweet thing.

I smile back at him, because monster is actually a term of endearment in our pack, then return my focus to the twins. “So, what’s this place called again?”

“Not sure,” Bryce says with a shrug, since they’ve been dancing around that question since we left the hotel. “It’s not really our kind of scene. But we know for a fact Nate’s a regular.”

At a members-only club? It’s not unheard of for betas to hang out at places that exclusively service alphas, but the way the twins are acting, I don’t think it’s going to be the usual pickup joint.

And my suspicions are confirmed as we descend below the Loop into a sketchy part of downtown. We’ve left the commercial district and a lot of the buildings are tagged with graffiti. The most common sign is a red flaming crown, which Link told us means we’re in the Alpha Kings’ territory. They basically run downtown after sunset, and according to the law enforcement reports Link accessed, they’re untouchable.

But the twins don’t bat an eyelash at taking their expensive asses into such a rough neighborhood. They don’t strike me as clueless - or reckless – but I use Rory’s bond to check in with Link. Do you have anything on these guys yet? I’d really like to know how they’re connected to Nate.

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