“Let me take Harley’s place,” he announced, drawing every eye his way. “I’ll stay in Vegas and resume his supply to your organization. Just leave my wolves out of it.”
Shock and horror slapped me. Arys was either desperate or crazy. It didn’t matter though because Linden wasn’t buying it. With the confident swagger of one who knew he had won this round, he sidled over to Arys. “You tried to shut my blood ring down once. You let your protégé murder your sire. I would never make the mistake of trusting you. In fact, the sooner you get on a flight out of the country, the better for both of your wolves. I’ll consider selling them to some of my less sadistic buyers.”
“I’m not going anywhere without Alexa. I’m taking over The Wicked Kiss. Jenner has proven he’s not fit to run it. I can be a worthy partner.” Calm and cool, Arys almost had me convinced he spoke the truth. He’d damn well better be glad I could tell he was lying.
Linden nodded to his guys, and they surrounded me. Not one of them dared to put their hands on me. Smart.
“I’ll be taking what I’m owed and leaving now. Arys, you have twenty-four hours to leave my city. I’m being generous.” Linden ushered us toward the exit. I moved woodenly. My legs felt heavy.
Arys moved to stop us. Sloane cocked her weapon.
“Don’t!” I shouted. Panic echoed in my voice. “Arys, please. You have to let me go.” Silently, just from my mind to his, I added, ‘Take care of Jez. I’ll find Shaz, and we’ll get out. You know Shya won’t let me die. I’ll be ok.’
Arys backed off, but he was miserable. A storm brewed in his midnight gaze. The echo of my wolf showed in his eyes. ‘You better find a way out tonight. I’m not going home without you.’
‘I love you.’
He didn’t say it back, and in that small slight, his weakness was revealed. It was too easy to take Arys down simply by targeting me. I didn’t need his affirmation to know he loved me. His love ran deeper than mine; it had burned much longer.
They took me to a super swanky SUV limo parked outside. I was shoved into a dark leather interior and crammed between Linden’s guys. The long black seat ran in an L shape down one side of the vehicle, curving behind the driver. A brightly lit bar filled the space across. TV screens mounted in several places played a muted movie.
The scent of cologne and whiskey permeated the car. I wrinkled my nose and tried not to sneeze. I wasn’t afraid, which was a pleasant realization. It might have been the angel blood or possibly the fact that I knew I would die by Arys’s hand.
Of course, I was certainly wary. A “mob boss” guy like Linden thrived off the fear of others. Even if he didn’t kill me, there was little chance of me emerging from this entirely unscathed.
Sloane slipped into the limo behind Linden, and I groaned inwardly. I couldn’t stand to look at her Hollywood-chic face. With her makeup expertly in place and a gown that could have graced a red carpet, I couldn’t help but wonder why she fought so hard to hide behind illusion. Besides, her soul was ugly; no amount of cosmetics would hide that.
Linden banged on the partition separating us from the driver, and the SUV lurched forward. Then he nudged a lackey who produced a set of government issued FPA handcuffs designed to inhibit the power of someone like me.
“You’re a f**king FPA agent, aren’t you? Son of a bitch.” I surrounded myself with a shield of energy that cast a warm glow throughout the vehicle.
“I am.” Linden nodded and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “I see you’re familiar with these.” He gestured to the cuffs. “So you know why I have to insist you wear them. We can all play nice, or I can make a call and have a body part removed from the wolf. Your call.”
He held the phone ready, finger poised to hit send. I burned with boiling hot hatred. And I dropped my shield. I held my hands out before me, allowing those wretched cuffs to imprison my power for the third time. Perhaps I should have taken Briggs up on his offer to help. Somehow, I didn’t think he knew the Las Vegas unit had a vampire like Linden in their employ, or that he was running a very shady underground side business.
“I’m happy to see you can be reasonable,” Linden continued, smiling like I wasn’t giving him a death glare. “This doesn’t have to be all bad, you know. I have many clients that treat their blood slaves quite well.”
“Does the FPA know about your business venture?” I asked, refusing to be intimidated by him in any way. “I didn’t think they were into that kind of thing, though from what I’ve seen, one can never be sure with them.”
Linden began to select bottles from the bar, holding them up as an offering. I recognized a pricey whiskey that I used to drink back at Raoul’s house, long before he had died. I nodded to that one.