Page 51 of Deadly Ties

I nod, stepping closer to Kelly and slipping my hand through his. It’s hard with the cuffs, but we both need to comfort. Because as much as this is already a nightmare, Darius just confirmed we’re heading to the Tower.

It’s a short drive from the Village to Bisha’s headquarters, but we see little of it, since we’re shoved into a windowless van. Darius and Cuff Guy climb into the back with us, but no one speaks until the van dips and I sense we’re heading into an undercover garage. The Tower is a fortress hiding in plain sight on a busy Manhattan street. Bisha has property all over the city, but this is his main residence, and when I was working with my so-called stepbrothers to take him down, this was considered the hardest building on the list to infiltrate. Which means it’s almost impossible to escape as well.

Except we have someone on the inside. I hold that hope tight to my chest as the van parks and we’re bundled out, Darius and Cuff Guy pushing us forward. I’m not sure where Arben is and I don’t want to distract him and put him in danger, but as we’re marched over to an elevator, I whisper down the bond.Arben? Can you hear me?

But when only silence greets me, I realize the blockage that feels like a mental wall is back, only stronger this time. Pressing on it starts an instant headache, and I shiver hard enough for Kelly to notice. He shoots me a worried glance, but I decide not to use the bond to reassure him. We’re badly on the back foot, and I need to keep us both under the radar until we know what we’re up against.

I try to put a confident look on my face, but as the elevator door swings open, two things happen. Firstly, Darius Raptis and Cuff Guy are encircled by togs and roughly stripped of their weapons. They go without a fight, although Darius dips his head at me and says, “Don’t get dead, Omega.”

I’m still gaping at him as they’re dragged off, and then Paige Peters, my mom’s ex-assistant and one of Bisha’s pieces of ass, steps into view. She’s tall and thin, with an edgy platinum bob and cold eyes that rake me from head to toe, before narrowing in triumph.

“Bisha’s little bitch,” she purrs, reaching out and sinking her claws into my arm. She’s wearing a designer dress the color of blood, and matching lipstick on her wide, feral smile. “Not so high and mighty now, are you?”

“And you’re still answering the door and doing Bisha’s dirty work,” I reply, faking boredom. “Just tell me where he is and scuttle back into your hole, you insect.”

The slap she hits me with would be easy to shrug off if she wasn’t wearing a diamond ring the size of a grape. Instead, it rakes across my cheek, drawing blood, and I can’t bite back a whimper. Kelly lunges for her, but a couple of thugs have been watching and haul him back. Paige grabs a handful of my hair and yanks me towards her. “Speak to me like that again and I’ll lock you in a room with the togs who hate your stuck-up ass. And we’re talking double digits.”

I clench my teeth so my wolf doesn’t take a bite out of her, and force my gaze to the floor. With a triumphant smile, she grabs my arm and starts pulling me through a crowded room. I glance back to make sure Kelly is following and his eyes gleam silver as he sees the blood on my cheek. Fuck. I need to distract him.Do you know where we are?

He forces himself to look around and grimaces.It’s the entertainment level. Above us are Bisha’s private floors.

Okay. I’ve been to the penthouse before with my mom. We stuck to a couple of small rooms, but I always sensed there was a lot more going on around us. And this level is a whole other world. The marble floor is cold under my feet, and there are high ceilings and red silk walls, but no windows, giving it a casino feel. I can see a massive chandelier in the distance, but there are smaller ones, including some flashing neon and bright spotlights, in other parts of the room. Strange half-walls divide up the space, and when we enter the first, I realize it’s a cocktail lounge, complete with a gleaming wood bar and leather booths. People are drinking and chatting, although they pause to stare at us as Paige struts through the middle of the room. She always loved being the center of attention, so right now she must be living her dream.

But I forget about our asshole escort as we enter the next space and I see a giant steel cage. It’s up on a stage, surrounded by rows of chairs, and I know what it is without asking. A fight ring. The floor is splattered with old blood and a cloud of rage and despair hangs in the air. After the luxury of the cocktail lounge, the violence of this space makes my skin crawl.Male omegas fight here. They put them up against the top alphas and it’s last man standing.I’m trying to picture that when I realize what he means. They put male omegas in heat up against trained alpha fighters.

I look back at him, but he avoids my eye and I feel sick. Did they do it to him when he lived in the Tower? Or did he see other omegas go into that ring and not come out?

I block the swarm of questions from the bondlink – they’re not going to do either of us any good right now – and focus instead on the next room. It’s the largest, with the big chandelier I could see from the elevator hanging from the center of a silk-draped ceiling. It’s a mix of the last two spaces, with high-end booths and cocktail tables, but also a stage at the far end. It’s empty at the moment, but my churning stomach gives an extra flip as I realize it looks like the ballroom in the auction house.

But before I can give into my growing panic, Paige digs her fingers into my arm and steers me over to a door. When she pushes it open, I’m greeted by a circle of pale, strained faces. It only takes one whiff of the air to know they’re omegas, and scared out of their minds. They’re all wearing black dresses, although none of them are cuffed, and I don’t recognize any of their faces until I get to the omega on the end.

“Glo!” I lurch towards her right as Paige gives me a shove in the back and I crash into the other omega. She grabs me by the shoulders to steady me, but a scuffling noise at my back makes me spin around. And I give a cry of rage as I see the thugs dragging Kelly away from the door. He’s fighting, but they’re huge and twisting his arms viciously behind his back. “What are you doing, you assholes? Where are you taking him?”

Paige shoves me back again, holding the door open just long enough to grin in my face. “Roan has something special in store for him.”

Then she slams it shut, and Kelly’s roar of protest is silenced by a thud. I instantly leap against the door, hammering it with my fists. I’m so surprised it opens again, I’m gaping at Paige as I eat her fist. She’s wearing knuckledusters, and I catch sight of Kelly’s horrified face as the punch knocks me back into the circle of omegas. Only this time there’s no one to catch me, and without the use of my hands, I hit the ground hard enough to see stars. Not that I can see much through the blood pouring from my nose. “I’ve been waiting a long time to put you on your ass, but this is just the start.” She spits and something wet hits my cheek. “You’ll be begging like the little bitch you are before we’re through with you.”

And then a shiny Louboutin kicks me in the side of the head and it’s lights out.

Kelly

“Stop fighting, bitch.”

The snarled command hits me like a second punch, and my entire body goes limp. I don’t recognize the guy on my left, but the one twisting my arm behind my back is an older tog, or togerët, meaning a lieutenant of the Dark River Pack. I remember him from when I lived in the Tower, and he clearly remembers me. He gives my wrist a vicious tug, dropping me to his knees. It strains the stomach muscles he buried his fist in a moment ago and I don’t need to look at the erection pushing against the front of his pants to know he’s getting off on hurting me. “That’s more like it.” He grins at the other thug. “We’re gonna have some fun with you.”

“Enough,” the blonde beta says in a curt voice, although her eyes are bored. “Roan wants him in one piece for this bit.”

I have no idea who she is, other than the bitch I’m going to take a bite out of for hitting my angel. But for some reason the two alphas listen to her, jerking me back to my feet. We cross the empty room with the big stage, pushing through another door to a set of stairs. I’ve never been this way before, but as we head upwards, my stomach sinks. We’re going to Bisha’s private floor.

My bare feet curl against the cold concrete, but too soon we’re being buzzed through a heavy security door and my toes are buried in thick, expensive carpet. We’re in a kind of den, with club chairs around low tables and a massive marble fireplace. No windows, because Bisha is a paranoid fuck even in the penthouse of a high-rise, and the air is thick with the stench of alphas, cigar smoke, and top-shelf booze.

The blonde bitch strides off like she owns the place and I take a moment to look inside my head. I can’t think of any other way to describe the way it feels to have Angel in my mind. But I don’t know how to reach her. I can sense her there, just like I can feel a bond to both Link and Rory, but it feels as thin as mist. I can’tuseit in any way, and I clench my jaw in frustration. Why the fuck didn’t I work harder to learn how to shift? If I had better control of my wolf, maybe he could help me reach them now. Make sure she’s okay, and call the guys for help.

Not that they’d have much hope of getting into the Tower undetected. After the year we spent locked inside its walls, we all know what a fortress this place is. Maybe it’s better they don’t know I’m back here. And we still have Arben up our sleeve, a hopeful little voice reminds me. He could be somewhere around here, and if anyone can get Angel out of this place alive, it’s him.

But all my plotting is brought to a screeching halt when the blonde bitch returns to drag me over to Bisha. His lieutenants and hangers-on surround him, hard men with their guns outside their jackets and cruel smirks on their faces. I can’t see Arben anywhere, but the Head Alpha is impossible to miss. He’s sitting at one of the tables, cigar in hand and cold silver eyes roaming the room like he’s searching for his next kill. This is the guy who sold me to Crouch without a second thought. He pretended to be Angel’s father for twenty years, although from what I’ve heard, he never really claimed her publicly. I don’t know how deep the wounds from his neglect go, but I’m glad she doesn’t share his blood. It’ll be that much easier to spill it when I get my chance.

But my bloodlust cools when I realize who’s sitting at his table. The woman with the thick red hair has her back to me, but I’d know my mother anywhere. And the man opposite – a thin alpha with mean little eyes and the Prior chin – is someone I’d hoped to never see again.

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