“But he was right there, and it was dark enough for me to get closer for a photo.”
“So you got it?”
Silence. Then, “It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. I’ve been following him—”
“No!” Vanessa said. “I don’t care if he’s twenty feet away standing under a streetlight. Back down. Now.”
“I would, but …”
Vanessa gripped the phone. “But what …?”
“Somehow, I lost him. I got myself into this blind alley and I feel like an idiot.”
No, you didn’t get yourself there. Malcolm Danvers got you there.
“Get out now,” Vanessa said. “Whatever it takes. Just—”
A sharp intake of breath. Then a clatter, as if the phone had hit the pavement.
“Mayfair?” Vanessa called. “Mayfair!”
Another clatter. Then a male voice. “Hello?”
“Who is this?”
“Who is this? Did you lose your phone?” the man said, his voice soft. “Or did you lose something else? Yes, I believe you did. Such a shame, too. She’s not gone, though. Not yet. I could return her. Would you like that?”
Vanessa struggled not to snap a reply. “Yes, I would.”
“I thought so.”
The line went dead.
Vanessa sat clutching the phone. Two choices. One, cover her ass—and her employer’s. Save them the humiliation of admitting they’d underestimated Malcolm Danvers. Request backup, jump on the next plane to Detroit, and pray she could get her agent back.
Option two? Well, option two would result in huge personal and professional embarrassment, and quite likely cost Vanessa a job she loved. It also gave Tina her best chance of survival.
Vanessa picked up the phone and dialed.
5. NICK
It was almost nine-thirty, which in the Sorrentino household meant dinner hour, since it was late enough that everyone was finally home, at least temporarily. No one even considered the possibility of separate dining times. In this house, the evening meal was the one chance for everyone to be together, if only for an hour or two.
Tonight dinner started even later than usual, Nick having picked Antonio up at the airport. He hadn’t needed to—Antonio would be the first to say he could grab a cab. But after his father had been away for a week, Nick knew he’d much prefer a lift and an hour spent catching up. So Nick always made sure he was there, waiting.
They were partway through the meal when Nick’s cell phone buzzed. He was about to shut it off—work or friends could wait. 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 then 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. As for trading Tina’s life for his freedom, that was ridiculous. Malcolm wouldn’t trust any promise to call off the hunt, and he’d never think himself in serious danger anyway. Malcolm intended to kill Tina, but he would keep her alive until she’d served her purpose.
Nick didn’t tell Vanessa that. He could hear how upset she was, and he wouldn’t take away her hope, no more than he’d say, “I told you so.”
“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 Malcolm, which was where outsiders failed.
Nick checked his watch. “I’m going to see if I can still catch a flight tonight.”
“You can. There are seats on the last plane to Detroit, leaving just before midnight. Your ticket will be waiting. I’ll meet you at the gate.”
“Meet?”
“It’s my agent. I’m coming along. I’ll see you at the airport.”
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.
Antonio had no idea Nick 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 thought, though, that Elena and Clay were hunting him with Nick just helping out. Antonio would even be fine with Nick liaising with Rhys’s team, as long as any involvement stopped short of Nick getting within a hundred miles of Malcolm.
There was a reason Nick lacked a reputation in the werewolf world: because his father had done everything in his power to keep Nick from the fights and challenges that would earn him one. When Nick 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. Nick used to beg Clay to set up challenge fights for him, as he watched Clay climb 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.
Traditionally, in the werewolf world, if you didn’t have a rep, you were invisible. Then Jeremy became Alpha. Jeremy, 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.
Nick was going to let his father keep resting easy, for as long as he could. So he made his excuses—Pack business, Elena needed him to check something out—and then grabbed his packed bag and took off.
As Nick drove down the long lane, he spotted 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,” Nick admitted. “I hired Rhys to find him, and there’s a problem. I’m going to sort it out. Elena knows. Antonio doesn’t. Obviously, I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
“Sure.”
The agreement came quickly. Nick must have looked surprised, because 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 Rhys’s agents.”