Animalistic Galley Fin (13 page)

“Where are you taking me?” she asked the driver. Both men sat in the front. A little quiver tinged her voice. She tried to be brave, but she couldn’t shake her fear. Dozens of dreadful scenarios played in her mind, each more devastating than the last, increasing her already paralyzing terror. Darbo had connections to the mob. She could end up neck-deep in cement. Or she could become a special ingredient in a meat grinder at a slaughter house somewhere.

Ugh. She felt like she was going to throw up.

From the rearview mirror, the guy who grabbed her flashed a hair-rising smile. He didn’t gag her—thank God for small favors. He only bound her wrists with duct tape.

“Just going to take a little ride, Ms. Winter,” he said.

Well, at least he was polite. Wasn’t he nice?

“Is Frank Darbo the one who ordered you to do this?” she asked.

The guy didn’t answer, but he winked in the rearview mirror.

She shuddered inwardly. What was up with that? Her creep o’ meter hit an all-time high. “Next time, tell him to make an appointment if he wants to see me,” she said, mustering every last ounce of her bravado to sound tough.

This time the driver glared at her and her wit instantly evaporated. The man looked scary to boot. She wasn’t a defense attorney so she didn’t know how to interact with colorful individuals.

They drove for a short time before they finally pulled into a dark alley. Her kidnappers herded her into the back door of a building that turned out to be a gentlemen’s club. There was a stage with poles. Two cages hung from the ceiling. Oversized LCD screens mounted on the walls. The gaudy place was deserted; not a customer was in sight. As they walked further in, a surly bartender who wiped down the counter eyed her with suspicion.

“Where’s Rob?” asked the driver.

The bartender gestured with his chin.

The kidnappers pushed her into a dressing room. When a burly man resembling a Rottweiler came to her, she suddenly understood where she was now; Darbo’s club where she first tried to serve him.

“You again?” she said to him dismally.

He motioned for her to sit on a chair.

When she didn’t do it, the driver grabbed her shoulders and pushed her to sit down.

“Don’t touch me,” she snarled. “I don’t know where your hands have been.”

The other door in the dressing room opened and a man with a squirrelly face flounced in. Frank Darbo was as unpleasant as she remembered. A woman with a skimpy outfit followed him, looking terminally bored.

“Ah, the lawyer gal.” Darbo pointed at her with the cigar in his hand. The acrid smoke from it added an even more unpleasant smell to the room. “You caused me so much trouble.”

“What do you want? Are you going to kill me?”

“Kill you?” Darbo laughed boisterously. “That’d be too easy. If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.” He grabbed a chair and sat on it. “Despite how I look, I always play fair.”

“Is that so?” Arielle gave him a dirty look. “If you always play fair, our client wouldn’t have sued you in the first place. She got injured while working in your club.”

“Bitch was clumsy; ain’t my fault. But you—you caused me lotsa grief. You humiliated me in front of my esteemed colleagues.”

“Is this about you getting beaten up by John Alexander?” she asked. “Weren’t you the one who threw the first punch? Why are you taking this out on me?”

“Because of you, I was humiliated, and I don’t take that kind of embarrassment lightly. So in return, I will give you a taste of your own medicine.”

“What do you mean?”

Darbo only laughed. “You’re gonna dance on that stage and we’re gonna take a few pictures. For your boss and her clients. Maybe we leak a few on the internet. And we’ll see after that if you still have a career in law.”

“Over my dead body.”

Darbo leered with a toothy smile. “That can also be arranged.” He snapped his fingers and the two men who kidnapped her held her to the chair. The Rottweiler produced a syringe from his jacket pocket.

A new terror washed over her. “What is that? Let me go!”

“It’s something to make you relax. Don’t worry, you’re gonna feel good and cooperative.” Darbo signaled his bodyguard.

“No!” She watched helplessly as the Rottweiler secured her arm and stuck the needle into her vein. The effect was immediate. Her head was light and bubbly. Her eyelids were heavy. She felt as if she was floating among the clouds…

Chapter Eleven

John arrived at Quinn’s apartment while Vanessa was working her magic, tracing Arielle’s call to Trent’s cell phone. Trent rushed over to Quinn’s place after he told the alpha his problem. Quinn then woke Vanessa for help. She was a genius with computers and had a connection with some hacker group. By the time Trent arrived at Quinn’s place, Vanessa was already hard at work behind the computer screen, talking with her hacker friends via the deep web. Ten minutes later, John showed up. Quinn had also called him over.

“What happened? Aren’t you supposed to be having sex right now?” John said with a laugh.

Trent growled, almost losing it. He wasn’t in the mood for jokes. He was worried sick. Knowing that Arielle was in danger, he couldn’t think rationally. His actions were driven by pure instinct. Years of experience as an intelligence officer in the Air Force, where he was conditioned and trained to act calmly with full composure in difficult situations, all went down the drain in an instant. His alter beast raged inside him, demanding immediate action. His patience was wearing thin with every second that ticked by.

“Stop goading him. You’re not helping,” Quinn chastised John.

“Sorry. What happened?” asked John, reverting to his best behavior.

Quinn went through the story one more time while Trent paced back and forth in Quinn’s home office. He was losing the battle against his tiger. It felt like he could fully transform at any time. His nails elongated into claws and his upper arms sprouted with fur.

“Maybe I should just go to the police,” Trent said, impatient. “I also have a friend in the FBI and he could put a trace on my phone.”

“Hey! We’re almost done,” said Vanessa from behind the screen. “Just give us a few more minutes. Hacking into your phone provider isn’t easy, you know?”

“Be patient, Trent,” said Quinn.

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t have let her go out alone. He should have followed her from a distance. If he did that, none of this would have happened.

“Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt her?” Quinn asked Trent. “Did she have any enemies? Someone who has a grudge against her?”

“I don’t think so. She rarely talks about her cases. Besides, she isn’t practicing anymore. She works behind the scenes.”

“What about that guy she served? Frank Darbo. Remember, the night you saved her from the chimney?” asked John.

“What about it? She told me her boss is going to settle case. You think he might do something like this?”

John wrinkled his nose. “Darbo is a scumbag. It’s common knowledge in our circle.”

“Then we should check his place. Do you know where he lives?” asked Trent, antsy.

“Calm down.” Quinn clamped his hand on Trent’s shoulder. “Nobody leaves until I say so. Especially you, Trent. In times like this, you need to keep your cool.”

Trent growled unhappily. The Alpha’s order was absolute.

“We got it!” shouted Vanessa from behind the screen.

They all rushed to look her at findings. Trent scanned the computer screen, trying to visualize the location on the map where Arielle had made her phone call. He didn’t think Arielle had walked that far. She had meandered more than five avenues.

Quinn read the street address and told Vanessa to jot it down.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go,” said Trent.

“Wait,” Quinn halted him. “Even if we get there, can you get a lock on her scent?”

“I’ll try.”

“Hold on,” John stopped them this time. He tapped an area on the map near the pay phone. “I know this area. It’s in the Bowery. Darbo has a club down there. After Dark. Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence? That she got picked up near Darbo’s hangout?”

“At this point, we don’t know who took her. It’s too bad that she didn’t have her phone with her. I suggest that we check that pay phone first, then we go to the club. If we don’t succeed in locating her, we’ll go to the police. I have some private investigators on payroll, and we can use them too. We’ll comb through her contacts, her co-workers, her past clients, to get our bearing. And we’ll do this calmly and efficiently,” said Quinn. He then turned to Trent, adding, “Exercise caution. This is New York, not Aspen. Plenty of people will see you if you can’t control your beast.”

Trent didn’t comment. He couldn’t make that promise. His patience was wearing thin and his tiger could slip out at any time.

Quinn caught his eyes and snorted. “I don’t trust him. We should bring a collar and leash with us.”

“For what?” Trent was scandalized. “I’m not a dog.”

“Can’t have you roaming the streets of Manhattan as a tiger. It would be different if you were on a leash and someone pretended to take you out for a walk. We’ll get a fine,

but it’s less dangerous than the prospect of people thinking you’re a loose exotic pet.”

Vanessa jumped from her seat, flailing her arms excitedly. “Ooh. Can I be the one to walk Trent? You and John are public figures; you’ll cause a scandal if the media caught you doing something like this. But no one will care if it’s me.”

Trent shook his head. “No one is putting a collar on me. Can we just go? We’re wasting precious time.”

His alpha and oldest brother skewered him with a look of distrust. He turned to his fiancée and said, “Bring the collar and leash. We’ll split into two groups. I’ll bring my SUV and you ride with John.”

“Let’s do this,” said Vanessa with excitement. She looked pretty pumped. “Let’s get Arielle back and kick some ass!”

Four minutes later, they exited the parking garage and headed to Turner Street. Quinn drove the SUV while Trent sat shotgun. Halfway there, he almost slipped. His control against his tiger weakened, just as Quinn had suspected.

Quinn glanced at him and snorted. “You don’t seem like you can fight it any longer. Go in the back. You can track her scent better if you shift, right?”

Trent murmured ruefully. Quinn always saw through him. At a traffic light, he moved to the back. He pushed down the middle seats, then shifted, surrendering to his beast. His clothes and sneakers ripped to pieces and he didn’t give a damn. The vehicle swayed a little from his transformed weight. Luckily, the windows were tinted black; bystanders couldn’t really see what was happening inside the SUV.

Quinn snorted, shaking his head as if he’d just seen something amusing.

Now that he was one with his beast, he could see better, smell better, and hear better. Trent focused his attention on Arielle’s scent. He had it memorized. But from the closed vehicle, he couldn’t track a damn thing. He tried to power down the window with his paw, but his claws were in the way. At moments like this, he missed having a human thumb.

“Just relax,” said Quinn from the driver seat. “We’re almost there.”

Trent couldn’t wait. Once they were at the location, he burst out the moment Quinn opened the door. The day was getting brighter and a few people in the street yelled in surprise. He knew he must look quite intimidating.

Vanessa, who came with John, quickly apologized. “Sorry, he’s tame. He won’t hurt you. We’re just taking him for a walk.” She then proceeded to wrap a leash around his neck. The collar was intended for a dog so it didn’t fit. Vanessa ditched it.

The pedestrians swore at her, calling her crazy, and one threatened to call a cop.

Quinn glowered at them. He was very protective of his mate.

John crouched next to Trent, whispering, “Did you get a lock on her scent?”

He did. He sniffed around the phone and followed his mate’s scent on the sidewalk. At one point, it was quite strong. She must have fallen or something. Trent also smelled the scent of two males. One was a heavy smoker and the other was marinated in cheap cologne. The two new scents commingled with the smell of tires. It must be the car her kidnappers used. Since Arielle was transported in a car, it was hard to track her solely by her scent. So, Trent memorized the scent of her kidnappers and the car and followed it.

“I think he’s got it. I’ll walk with him,” said Vanessa to John and Quinn.

His brothers went back to their cars. Vanessa trotted next to him, barely able to keep up with his speed. Trent stopped and growled, annoyed with the leash. Vanessa seemed to understand what he was trying to say.

“Oh, I’m not letting you go alone. The cops will shoot at you, thinking you’re wild.” She unceremoniously climbed on his back as if he was a horse. “This is better. Ride on, Trent! Let’s save your damsel-in-distress! Onward!”

Trent lashed out his tail in annoyance. Figures. The nerd queen would treat this rescue mission as if she was playing an MMORPG. He returned his attention to Arielle and followed the trail of the scents. He couldn’t go too fast, otherwise Vanessa would fall off. She slipped several times, but managed to climb back up, which kind of annoyed him. If she wasn’t Quinn’s mate, he’d have left her in the dust.

The trail led him to the back alley of a seedy-looking building. Three cars were parked against the walls. Vanessa jumped down and let go of the leash. Trent sniffed around a Ford Taurus. Arielle’s scent was thick on that. The scent led him to a back door. He growled. It was no mistake. Arielle was in this building. Trent let the others know with a loud roar.

John exited from his car. “I knew it. This is After Dark, Darbo’s club.”

Quinn narrowed his eyes, while his hand held onto his phone. “Let’s go, Trent. Save your mate.”

Trent didn’t need any more encouragement. He pounced at the door and clawed it until the veneer shredded to splinters. He pounced and pawed until the hinges came off and the door fell backward. He heard screaming from the people inside. He burst in, and knocked them down with a swipe of his paw. One man tried to shoot him, but the gun jammed. Arielle’s scent was thick on him. Trent bit his arm and shook him like a rag doll. Quinn, John, and Vanessa closed in from behind.