Eventually, Joely called her name, along with that of a male shifter who had won the previous round. He was of average size, so she thought she might be able to take him.
Ryenne stepped into the ring, her nerves jangling. But feeling nerves was a good sign, too, and she felt buoyed. By fear, by nerves. Any emotion, positive or negative, was good after the numbness she’d been feeling since last night.
She faced her opponent. His blond hair and blue eyes reminded her of Gavin.
Shit. She couldn’t punch someone who looked like Gavin. Then again, maybe she didn’t have to. This wasn’t about her beating someone up, it was about her feeling things. Feeling physical pain. She just had to dodge her opponent’s blows often enough that she didn’t get too seriously injured.
The guy came toward her, holding out his hand. “Hey, I’m Dan,” he said.
She took his hand and they shook.
“I don’t see a lot of women here,” he said. “I’ll try to go easy on you.” He smirked.
Her anger flared up as it always did when men were chauvinist pigs. “Don’t bother,” she ground out between her teeth. Now it didn’t matter how much he looked like Gavin. This guy was going down.
They stepped back and Dan started bouncing on his toes like she’d seen boxers do on TV. They circled each other, wary eyes on each other’s faces. The crowd was silent, almost like it was holding its breath, waiting for the first strike.
Ryenne had never done anything like this before. She didn’t know if she should step in and punch Dan in the nose, or if she should wait to see how he opened. From watching his previous fight, she knew he was a clean fighter, who didn’t rely on dirty tactics, but he did have a tendency to leave his right flank unprotected. So she chose to wait him out.
She could feel the crowd getting restless. The clatter of glasses increased. A guy called out, “Come on, hit her.”
Ryenne smiled. “You heard the dude.”
Dan’s eyes narrowed as if he were trying to figure out her trick. She feinted left to force him into action. He jabbed at her with his right hand. In a fight with a rogue, that would’ve been her opportunity to stun his right side with one of her Tasers. But this was a clean fight in a classy establishment. No weapons allowed. She also didn’t want to give away yet that she knew where he was vulnerable. So she merely stepped out of the range of his jab. He followed up with a series of punches aimed for her face but Ryenne weaved back and forth and avoided his fists. So far, this wasn’t much fun.
“Afraid to hit a girl?” someone called out from the crowd.
Ryenne smirked and made a come here gesture with her fingers. Dan gave into the taunts, anticipated her next dodge, and connected with her shoulder. Pain radiated down her arm.
She smiled. Pain. She felt it. And it woke up her wolf, who roared inside her and, before Dan could step back outside of her range, she jabbed him in the face. The crowd gasped. She bounced on her toes, waiting for his next move.
Her punch must have woken Dan’s animal as well because he came at her in controlled fury, lashing out with his fists. She blocked some but not all of his strikes. His fist connected with different parts of her body, over and over, as she landed a few punches of her own.
But as she began to tire, he seemed to thrive on renewed energy. He hauled back and gave her one good punch in the face that knocked her backwards. She sprawled on the floor, tasting her own blood. She stayed down but she smiled and nodded at him.
He came over and offered her a hand up. She took it and stood.
“Thanks,” she said, dabbing at her bleeding lip.
He shrugged. “You’re welcome.”
Off the mats, Joely handed her a towel and she nodded her thanks.
She walked to the bar. “I’ll take that drink now. A shot of Patrón. No lime.”
TWENTY-ONE
When she finished her drink, she retrieved her wallet and phone from Joely, and sent Nick a text.
RYENNE: Meet me for a drink?
She had considered reaching out to Scotty, but she had already tasted that fruit. Also, she wanted something easy and guilt-free. Not to have to worry about what Scotty would expect from her tomorrow.
She didn’t want Nick to know about this place or to get Maxi in trouble. So, when Nick responded, she named a bar close to her apartment.
RYENNE: I’ll be there in 30
She left some money on the bar for the hot bearded dude. “Thanks for the drink.”
“No problem,” he said, drying a glass. “Will we see you again?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “You never know.” Stopping in the bathroom first, she washed the blood off her face. She’d already stopped bleeding but she’d have a swollen lip and some cuts and bruises for the next couple of hours.
Rather than taking the subway again and potentially scaring passengers, she ordered a car through an app.
“Rough night?” the driver asked when she got in.
“Nope. It’s been a great night so far.”
In the rearview mirror, she saw his eyebrows go up but she didn’t explain. A sense of calm had come over her. She could still feel her urges, but they were muted. They weren’t controlling her right now.
As she walked into the bar, her face hurt less than when she’d left Maxi’s, but Nick’s eyes widened as soon as he caught sight of her.
“Are you okay? What happened to you?”
“I’m fine.” She waved off his attention. “Do you want to stay at the bar or get a table?”
“Whatever you want,” he said.
If only, she thought.
They ordered drinks—a vodka tonic for her this time—and brought them to a dark booth in a corner where only other shifters would be able to overhear.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked once they were settled.
“Never better.” She smiled and reached across the table to take his hand.
His eyebrows drew down and he stared at their hands.
“So, how’s the case?” she asked. She’d been out of touch all day.
“Is that why you invited me here?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I think maybe it does.” He glanced at their hands again. “Look, Ryenne, you’re beautiful. Gorgeous, even. But Scotty’s my friend.”
She pulled her hand back. “What does Scotty have to do with anything?”
“If you’re no longer attached to the Frenchman...”
“This has nothing to do with the Frenchman,” she said, her voice sharp. “I’m my own woman. I can do what I want.”
He nodded slowly and took a sip of his beer. “Of course, and I’m flattered.” He drank half of his pint in one go, then fastened his gaze on her. “More than flattered, if I’m honest.”
He reached for her hand and rubbed his thumb over the top. Tingles shot through her body at the contact. Contact she’d missed without Lucien at her side these past several days.
And just like that, her fire dampened.
Pulling her hand away, she stood, flustered and embarrassed, wincing at the pain on her torso. “This was a bad idea.”
Nick scrambled off the seat and put an arm around her. “Let me take you to the hospital. Let’s get you looked at.”
She shrugged out of his grasp. “I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor. I’m a shifter, remember?”
Nick looked like she’d slapped him.
She turned to go. “Call me when you have any leads on our case.” Her tone strident at the thought of what she’d almost done, she strode out of the bar.
Shit, what had she been thinking?
She walked briskly and aimlessly for a long time. She didn’t know how long it had been, but the little bit of breeze felt good on her wounds and the exercise helped appease her wolf. When she looked around to try to figure out where she was, she was surprised to find that she was at the East River, under the Brooklyn Bridge.
An idea came to her.
TWENTY-TWO
Ryenne turned away from the river, needing to walk some more and think out the plan forming in her head. She could only rely on herself for this. The guys would just try to talk her out of it and they wouldn’t understand.
So, she was on her own.
The most obvious place to find Tess would be her apartment in Brooklyn. It would mean avoiding Mal and Tommy, who were probably still watching her, hoping she would lead them to the Fangs or to whoever had murdered her brother.
Ryenne turned around. She found the pedestrian access for the bridge and crossed into Brooklyn. It was still night, and dark enough that she could have gotten away with saving time by crossing the bridge as a wolf, but then she wouldn’t have her clothes. A naked human would certainly stand out.
When she got close to the apartment, she slowed down and found a dark doorway in which to hide and reach out her senses for Mal or Tommy.
There.
Mal was a few doors down, right across from the O’Brien apartment. Ryenne backtracked on stealthy feet and found her way to the park behind the apartment.
Over the past several weeks of being a shifter, Ryenne had discovered that as sharp as her new senses were, they were even sharper when she was in her wolf form. So, she found a tree with wide, sweeping branches and undressed under it, leaving her clothes in a pile.
Once she stood in the light summer breeze as a wolf, she sent out her senses and searched for sounds or smells that would give away Tess’s presence in her apartment. She heard the deep breathing of multiple people. Filtering out the sounds and smells of the humans, Ryenne focused on the two fox shifters on the third floor. Remembering how she and Lucien had communicated over long distances when the O’Briens tried to kidnap her mom, because of their super sharp hearing, Ryenne tried it now but without speech. As a wolf, she thought Tess’s name. Over and over again. As powerful and concentrated as she could.
Tess, I just want to talk.
Please, come out and talk to me.
Tess, wake up. Come talk to me.
There was a shift in Tess’s breathing, so Ryenne kept at it.
Tess. I just want to talk.
Tess’s breathing changed to normal waking breath sounds and a whisper came into Ryenne’s head. She couldn’t hear the words, but the tone was annoyed.
It had to be Tess.
Ryenne shifted back to human, dressed, and waited for Tess to join her. Ryenne wasn’t yet used to being naked in front of others, and this would be a difficult conversation. Her nudity would give her a disadvantage with Tess.
She didn’t have long to wait.
“Well, well, well. The baby wolf has come. What do you want? Are you here for another beating?”
Ryenne’s anger rose and she had to remind herself why she was here. “I have no one left,” she said, haltingly.
Tess’s face furrowed in confusion.
“I’ve been mad at my father for a long time. I don’t understand his reasons for leaving us and lying about it these past fifteen years. But he’s all I have left. I want the chance to get to know him. Will you take me to him? Please,” she added.
Shock made twin dots of red appear high on Tess’s cheekbones, soon replaced by suspicion. “I sense you’re telling the truth, but it doesn’t mean you don’t want to hurt him or kill him, even.”
“You know him so well you’d want to protect him?” Ryenne asked.
“You could say that.” Tess crossed slim arms in front of her body, which caused the silk of her camisole to shift and made her ample cleavage more obvious. She tilted her head to one side and considered Ryenne. Straightening her body as though she’d come to a decision, she spoke in a quiet voice. “I owe him less loyalty than I used to, but first I want to check out your story.” She looked over her shoulder toward her apartment. “Liam, get down here.”
“I don’t want you anywhere near my mother,” Ryenne said while they waited. “But the people I care about will all be at the hospital. By watching them, you’ll see I’m telling you the truth. I have no one left but my father.” Her voice faltered as her thoughts solidified. “He’s my only family now. And the Fangs, if they’ll have me. I need to be around others like me.”
Liam loped out of a doorway in the back of the apartment building. Like his sister, he had a mean, pinched face, pale skin, and green eyes. But he didn’t share her red hair. That had been their brother Joseph. This was the first time Ryenne had seen Liam since he’d tried to abduct her mother. Her wolf was frantically clawing its way to the surface of Ryenne’s consciousness, but she pushed it back down. Whether she liked it or not, she needed Liam O’Brien right now.
“Go home, baby wolf,” Tess said.
“What? But...” Ryenne’s hands shot out from her sides in a gesture of confusion.
“If you’re telling the truth and I decide to help you, I will come for you,” Tess said. “Otherwise, watch your back.” With that, she grabbed her brother’s arm and they stalked toward their building.
Ryenne didn’t know what to do with herself now, but she might as well go home, shower, and get something to eat. Maybe she’d exercise, too, throw her wolf a bone, so to speak, and make sure she was ready for whatever came next.
TWENTY-THREE
A few hours later, Ryenne answered the knock at her door. She had tried to rest but she was too keyed up. She had exercised, she had pleasured herself while thinking of Lucien—as usual—and she had showered.
Now, Tess waited at her door. She held out a black strip of cloth. “Here, put this over your eyes.”
Ryenne took the cloth, her face scrunched up. “So, I won’t be able to see where we’re going?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Right,” Tess said.
“You remember I’m a shifter now, right? I’ll be able to figure out where we’re going with my other senses.”
“Yeah, that’s why we brought this, too.” Tess swung her hands forward from behind her back. Before Ryenne could react, Tess jabbed her with a stun gun and Ryenne went down.
When Ryenne woke, she was on a bed, on top of the softest blanket she’d ever felt, in a bedroom with antique furniture. It felt posh but Ryenne couldn’t have said why. Light streamed in from a window. Ryenne went to look out and gasped at the incredible view over Manhattan.
“Good, you’re up,” a male voice said from behind her.
A man with brown hair, graying at the temples, of average height, and with wrinkles creasing the skin around his eyes stood in the doorway. He placed a tray with plates, a glass, and delectable food smells on the antique wooden dresser next to the bed.
“Dad?” Her voice was tentative but her actions were not. She ran at him, throwing her arms around him. He squeezed her to him, and she sighed. She had forgotten how it felt to be hugged by her father. She hadn’t realized she missed his touch. Tears pricked her eyes.
Standing back, she swiped at her eyes. “You’re alive. You’re really alive.”
He grinned. “I am.”
“But... how? Why? All this time...” she stammered.
He bowed his head. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry, Ryenne. I’m sure you have lots of questions and I want to tell you everything. I want to explain. But I have a meeting in a few minutes. So, here.” He gestured toward the tray of food. “Have something to eat. Feel free to wander the apartment. Use anything you need. I’ll be back in a couple of hours and we’ll sit and catch up.”
Ryenne took in details of her father she’d ignored earlier. He wore a business suit, one that looked expensive and fit him perfectly. Under it, his body was more toned than it had been when she was a child. He’d never been one to work out, and Mom had loved to tease him about his beer belly.
And it sounded as though he not only worked with the Fangs, but with Lord Enterprises. Judging from the expensive suit and this room, he worked closely with Lord.
He rubbed a hand from her shoulder down her arm. “I’m sorry, I have to go. See you later?” He made it sound like a question.
She nodded.
He left the room, closing her door behind him. She listened for sounds beyond the door. Footsteps and then a heavy thud. No voices, no one else was in the apartment. The scent of wolf hung in the air. From her father. He’d been turned.
She’d suspected it as soon as she’d learned he might still be alive and was somehow associated with the Fangs. But the confirmation was like a punch to the gut.
Was that why he hadn’t come home? Why he’d never contacted them?
She shook her head. How could her father think that just because he was a wolf shifter, she and her mom wouldn’t want anything more to do with him?
She glanced around the room but didn’t see her phone. It probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Lucien, Gavin, and her mom hadn’t been in touch since she’d stormed out of the hospital room the other day.
Anyway, this was what she wanted. She wanted to come to the Fangs, to her dad. And here she was.
The tray of food beckoned. Macaroni and cheese and a double chocolate brownie. Her favorites when she was twelve. When she’d last seen her dad.
She was hungry. Ryenne had been too anxious for breakfast and she didn’t remember when she’d last eaten.
Standing over the plate, she wolfed down the mac ‘n’ cheese. She took the brownie with her and ventured beyond the living room.
The apartment was swanky. Walls of windows, a balcony beyond the living room. Modern furniture, all glass and metal. Granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances in the kitchen. Judging from the view and their height, this might be the penthouse apartment. Was it her dad’s, or Mr. Lord’s?
Ryenne found a closed door that wasn’t locked. Entering, she found a study. There were pictures of people on the walls, unlike in the living room. Pictures of her father with Tess, pictures of her father with a muscular black man. Something niggled in her brain. The man was familiar but she couldn’t place him. Could he be Mr. Lord? She didn’t think so. There was something in his rigid posture and wary eyes that made her think he was more likely to be a bodyguard.
Lord of New York (Shifter Hunters Ltd. Book 3) Page 12
