Lord of New York Read online

  On the desk were framed photos of her and her mother, and one of her and her brother when they were little with their grandparents. Mr. Lord wouldn’t have her father’s personal photos on his desk. This must be her father’s apartment. He sure had come up in the world since his days as a suburban lawyer.

  She returned to the picture of her father and Tess. He had his arm around her shoulders and she gazed at him lovingly. It didn’t look like colleagues who enjoyed working together. It looked like way more than that.

  Her stomach heaved and she almost lost the mac ‘n’ cheese.

  Was her father dating Tess? She wasn’t much older than Ryenne.

  She shook her head. Things weren’t adding up. Maybe the zap from Tess’s stun gun had clouded her brain. She needed some air.

  In the living room, she tried to open the door to the balcony but it was locked with a digital keypad. Using her strength didn’t work. She ran to the front door, the one she’d heard thud heavily closed behind her dad. It, too, was locked by a digital keypad and wouldn’t budge.

  She was locked in.

  Why would her father lock her in? She had come willingly. The Fangs didn’t need to keep her prisoner.

  With no way out, she went back to her father’s study to search for clues. She opened a filing cabinet and rifled through the folders, unsure of what she was looking for.

  Until she found it.

  A letter addressed to Mike Lord:

  Thank you for the wonderful weekend with you and your lovely wife. I’ve included a photo of the two of you from our weekend.

  The picture was of her dad and Tess.

  Dad was married to Tess?

  A pounding started in her head and she couldn’t hear even her own thoughts past the rushing of blood in her veins.

  Dad was Lord. The head of the Fangs.

  Steven Muteti had only hired her in Kenya because Mr. Lord told him to. And Mr. Lord had told him to turn Ryenne into a shifter.

  Jean Grieux had said her dad will be so proud of her now that she was one of them. She was a shifter because of her dad. He had done this to her. Just as surely as if he had been whispering in Patrick Grieux’s ear that night a few weeks ago. It was the outcome he’d always wanted.

  She stepped back from the filing cabinet, step after step, until she banged into the open door. She stumbled out to the living room, stared out into the sunshine over Manhattan.

  Her mother didn’t know any of this. She had to tell Mom. The man was sending her flowers. Who knew what he might do next?

  She reached into her jeans and then remembered she didn’t have her phone. It had been a mistake to come here. She’d thought she wanted the chance to get to know her father, to understand why he’d made the choices he had all those years ago, to understand what he saw in the Fangs when all she had seen for so long was evil.

  Now, she was stuck here and stuck with the awful knowledge that her father hadn’t just joined the Fangs, he had started them. He was their leader.

  The shock began to wear off and she could think clearly again, but the disgust remained.

  There was nothing she could do. As long as she was a prisoner here, she might as well find out everything she could. So she went back to his office and searched it methodically, then continued to his bedroom. She searched every drawer, looked at every picture, painting, and photograph, every piece of decoration. Every trapping of his success. When she finished, she went through each room again, putting everything back in place.

  By the time her father returned, she had had time to compose herself and get used to the idea that her father ran a multinational corporation of rogues. A front for organized shifter crime.

  No matter her reasons for coming here, there was no way in hell she’d join the family business.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  A ding sounded and the front door swung open. She had considered lying in wait and overpowering her father before he had closed the door. But she wasn’t ready to try to escape. There was still more information she needed. Information only her father could provide.

  He strode in and smiled when he saw her sitting on the couch near the window.

  “What do you think of the view?” he asked.

  “It’s amazing. But Dad, I’ve got to know. How did all of this happen?” She spread her arms out to encompass all that he had accomplished since he’d left their family. “Why didn’t you come home?”

  He sighed and loosened his tie. “I wanted to, princess, I really did. I thought of you and your mom countless times over these fifteen years. But as more and more time passed, it felt like a higher and higher obstacle to overcome. I didn’t know what to say to you to make up for all the time that had passed.” He stood. “Before we get into this, I need a drink. Can I get you something?”

  She shook her head. She’d had more than enough alcohol last night.

  He went to a cabinet against a wall between the kitchen and living room and glassware clinked. He returned and placed a crystal rocks glass filled with dark brown liquid on the glass coffee table, removed his jacket and tie, and undid another button on his shirt. “That’s better.” He settled himself in an armchair near her.

  “Where have you been all this time?” she asked.

  He took a sip of his drink and leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over his opposite knee.

  “I mean, obviously, you’ve been here for a while,” she said, “but where were you right after the attack? How did you survive?”

  “One day, after Cody died, Tess came into my office as a client. When I first learned she was a shifter, I was angry and almost didn’t take her case. But she really needed help.”

  Ryenne rolled her eyes. “For what?”

  “She’d been picked up for solicitation, but she swore to me she hadn’t done it.”

  “She was a prostitute?” she asked. Very little about Tess would surprise her anymore.

  “No, she wasn’t. The cops caught her just after she’d shifted back to human and she was naked. In a public park. So, they assumed solicitation.”

  “Why didn’t she just tell them she was a shifter?” Ryenne asked.

  “Because she was very young and scared. So, I agreed to represent her. In return, since she couldn’t afford to pay me, she helped me track down your brother’s killers.”

  One of Ryenne’s eyebrows rose.

  “Turned out, they were a pack of wolves who were trying to go legit. Their alpha had started Lord Enterprises as an import-export company. Tess and I infiltrated their business and, in the process, they turned me. However, their alpha wasn’t a good businessman. He also didn’t realize who I was and that I had a hunger for vengeance he had helped stoke by turning me into a beast. When I learned to control myself, I killed him, assumed his identity, and took over his business.”

  Ryenne let the words wash over her. Let them penetrate her mind, her defenses. She could smell the truth of them but they still didn’t explain why he never came home and why she and Mom knew nothing about this plan.

  “But we thought you’d been attacked by rogue wolf shifters,” she said. “They found your blood.”

  He nodded. “I am so sorry for that, Ryenne. When I assumed the identity of Lord, I had to kill Michael Cavanagh.”

  “You let us think you were dead on purpose?”

  “At the time, I was so deep in my plan for revenge that it was all I could see, all I could think, all I could live. I knew your mother wouldn’t understand; we’d already had several fights about my search for Cody’s killers. I hope it isn’t too late to make it up to you.”

  “Too late? It’s been fifteen fucking years, Dad. You didn’t think to pick up the phone and call us, even once, in all that time?”

  “Of course, I did, princess.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “You lost that right when you chose to walk away from your job as my dad.”

  He hung his head. “You’re right. Of course. I just didn’t see another way out. And once I
was turned, my life changed. My needs changed.”

  Ryenne knew all about a wolf’s needs. But she didn’t want to think about her father having those kinds of urges and who he’d worked them out with. Tess, probably. Eww.

  A phone buzzed. Obviously not Ryenne’s.

  Her dad dug his out of his pocket and looked at the display. He gave a deep sigh. “Are you willing to give me a chance or do you want to leave now?”

  What did she want? She wanted to leave, to get as far away from this man who was her father and wasn’t, at the same time. But she couldn’t leave yet. She needed to secure her mother’s safety. And she understood the change he’d gone through since she was going through the same thing. Maybe she’d be better off here. With someone who’d been through it. They could try to repair their relationship, start over. She’d be around people who loved her and understood her.

  Lucien had understood her. Until he didn’t. He’d been born this way. He’d had years to get used to the urges when he went through puberty and with a family who knew how to instruct and help him. Ryenne didn’t have that. Even if they all forgave her eventually, none of them could understand.

  “I’ll stay.”

  Her father’s grin brightened his face and her throat filled. She’d missed his smile. His open face. Her dad.

  His phone pinged. “Ah, wonderful. Your mother has arrived.”

  What was Mom doing here? And how?

  Controlling her reactions with effort, she stared at her father. If he hurt Mom, nothing else would matter—having him back in her life, wanting a family who could understand her, nothing—she’d kill him.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  It had been almost two days since Lucien had seen Ryenne and he missed her with his entire body. He physically hurt from her absence. Walking out on her had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but it had been necessary.

  He knew what she was going through. The urges, the unfamiliarity, all the stimuli. And he’d tried to help her through it all. But he couldn’t watch her flirt with the cops a minute longer.

  He had known leaving would be a risk. That he could lose her, either temporarily or permanently, but he couldn’t watch anymore. He’d needed to take the risk.

  And he hoped they could get past it when her urges calmed down.

  This silence from her, however, was uncharacteristic. He’d given her some space, knowing she was angry. But enough was enough.

  As soon as he’d peeked in on Willow and assured himself of her safety, he would call Ryenne.

  He finished his tour of the perimeter and headed up the stairs. This way, he could poke his head onto every floor and make sure everything felt right. But an unease filled him as soon as he entered the stairwell. It didn’t smell any different so he couldn’t say where the unease was coming from. But the feeling grew stronger as he climbed.

  On the tenth floor, Willow’s floor, the unease turned to dread. He smelled lion and wolves.

  He sprinted to Willow’s room, flying past orderlies and nurses, patients holding IV stands, visitors with annoyance, sadness, or confusion on their faces. Lucien ignored them all, his focus on one thing.

  Willow’s safety.

  He sensed the emptiness from the corridor outside her room. He burst in. Her bed was empty, the sheets rumpled and falling to the floor.

  A groan stopped Lucien from sprinting into the hall to search for Willow. The shifter smell was still strong. They couldn’t have gotten far.

  Gavin sat up from where he’d sprawled on the far side of the bed. He held his head and blinked several times.

  “What happened?” Lucien asked.

  Gavin seemed to notice him for the first time. “Go!” he yelled. “Go after her. Three rogues. Two men and a woman.”

  Lucien hesitated. “But you’re…”

  Gavin bored a hole through Lucien with his eyes. “Get her back.”

  Lucien turned to leave as Nakamura entered the room.

  “Thank goodness,” Lucien breathed. “Call Scotty and Nick!” And he dashed off, running in the opposite direction from which he’d come. He hadn’t encountered them on his way from the stairs on the west side of the building.

  The staff elevator.

  Lucien put on a burst of speed. He smelled them in front of the elevator which was still heading down. The indicator showed they weren’t yet to the first floor. He took the nearby east side stairs and flew down, barely touching each tread.

  As he went, he thought about the rogues’ likely exit. They couldn’t just drag a patient in a hospital gown out through the front lobby. There was security there. Someone would stop them. They hadn’t had time to force her into street clothes, so he didn’t stop in the lobby.

  He kept descending the stairs until he reached the parking garage. He wanted to burst through with speed and power, but they would hear him and he wanted the element of surprise.

  His prudence paid off. On the far side of the garage, two men and a woman walked with Willow toward a dark van. He’d been wrong about the time they’d had. Willow wore sandals and some kind of long sundress. Although they were hurrying her along, they were being gentle with her.

  A few steps from the car, Willow turned her head and locked eyes with Lucien. She immediately turned away.

  “So, you’re going to take me to my daughter?” she asked.

  “Yes,” one of the men said, a large man with dark skin. He was the source of the lion smell. His voice was gruff but he offered Willow a hand to help her into the back of the van. He wasn’t rough, he didn’t push. Such odd behavior for Fangs. It went beyond the fact that Willow was cooperating so she could see her daughter.

  Her daughter.

  Ryenne.

  Did the Fangs have Ryenne, too? It would explain why no one had heard from her. They had thought she was just angry and needed time to cool off. He had hoped she wouldn’t find comfort in the arms of another. She had every right to, since he had walked away from her and wouldn’t listen to any of her apologies.

  If they hurt Ryenne or Willow, he would tear them all to pieces. He wouldn’t stop hunting them until he’d killed every last one.

  Lucien ducked down behind a car and waited until the van left the garage. He watched to see which way it turned before dashing out of the garage after it. He put on his bluetooth speakers and calmly walked in the same direction. At least, he looked calm on the outside, but inside, a million questions swirled around his brain.

  First, he called Gavin. “Hey, how are you?”

  “Fine. Did you find her?” Gavin’s voice was rushed and strained.

  “Yeah. They told her they would bring her to Ryenne.”

  “What?”

  “Have you heard from Ryenne today?” Lucien asked. “Is it just a ruse or do they really have her?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her. Where’s Willow now?”

  “They’ve got her in the back of a van heading down Eighth Avenue. I’m following on foot.”

  “Let me try calling Ryenne and I’ll call you back,” Gavin suggested.

  Lucien hung up and picked up his pace. He didn’t want to lose the van but he also didn’t want to give away his position or that he was a shifter to the pedestrians around him. If he were wearing exercise gear, he could’ve gotten away with jogging. As it was, he’d just have to keep as close an eye as possible on that van.

  Gavin called back too quickly. “She isn’t picking up. Maybe she’s still mad at me but will answer for you.”

  “All right, hang on, I’ll text her.” Without hanging up on Gavin, he sent Ryenne a quick text.

  LUCIEN: Please tell us where you are

  “All right, we’ll see if we hear back. And you, are you really okay?”

  “They threw me into the wall and knocked the wind out of me so I couldn’t move,” Gavin said. “But I’m okay. Taylor has taken care of me.”

  Lucien nodded even though he knew Gavin couldn’t see him. He was glad Gavin had Taylor in his life, e
ven if Ryenne was suspicious. In her newly-turned state, it was natural for her to be overwhelmed by senses and to feel suspicion when there was no cause.

  But Lucien was a seasoned shifter and he had no reason to suspect Taylor of being a Fang or a rogue.

  “They’re turning down a side street,” Lucien told Gavin. “I need to jog to catch up so I don’t lose them. I’ll text you when I have a location.”

  He turned the corner in time to see the van disappear into an underground garage at the other end of the block. Even at this distance he recognized the building made mostly of glass and steel. It was Lord Enterprise’s headquarters.

  He was surprised. After the bodies found near the South Street Seaport, Lucien assumed the Fang side of Lord Enterprises would work out of some dilapidated warehouse downtown. He didn’t know what to make of this turn of events. At least they were treating Willow well and weren’t bringing her to some dirty hellhole.

  Ryenne had tried to infiltrate this building a while ago and hadn’t found a way in. How was he going to get in?

  He texted his location to Gavin.

  LUCIEN: Bring the cavalry.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Ryenne watched her father warily. She wanted to grab him by the throat and demand he take her to her mother, but she wasn’t ready to give up what she could learn by pretending to be the dutiful daughter.

  “Okay, then.” He stood in one fluid movement, placing his drink on the coffee table. “Come. Let’s see your mother and I’ll show you the lab.”

  He strode to the door and Ryenne followed. She turned away from the keypad but watched her father’s fingers move in the reflection on the lacquered closet door. One-zero-two-nine. Her brother’s birthday.

  In the hallway, he called the elevator and they stared at each other awkwardly.

  “Why is Mom here?” she asked just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

  He stepped on, waited for her to join him, and pushed the button labeled Lobby. “When you showed up unexpectedly, it gave me the chance to come clean to you and to try to finally build a relationship with you. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long. And I decided this was a good time to make amends to your mother as well.”