by Kate Rudolph
They got out of the car and Mac looked over. “I’ll handle this arsehole this time.”
She nodded and fell into step beside him as they walked toward the door.
The first sign of trouble came before they entered the building. Glass from a shattered window was strew about the sidewalk leaving a hole in the wall big enough for a tank to drive through.
“Looks like we’re not the first to get here,” Mac observed.
Gemma nodded. “My money’s on Nigel.”
Mac agreed. It would be too much of a coincidence for Lee to sell them out and then be thrashed by a completely unrelated party. And if Lee had given them up because of a beating...well, Mac didn’t like it, but he could understand the reason. Who were they to this man?
He tried the door but found it locked. Rather than force it open, he doubled back to the window. Gemma followed as they made their way through, careful to avoid the broken glass.
The narrow hallway showed little damage, except for a person-sized indent where it looked like someone had been thrown against the wall. The main club was a different story. The lights were on, the black paint and furniture sucking it up and making everything seem dim and hollow. A bruised and battered Lee worked with his people to pick up the broken glass and mop up the spilled alcohol.
The tables had been pushed or rolled to the side of the room and there was a fairly large pile of broken wood and metal.
Lee stopped sweeping and threw his mop down when he saw Mac and Gemma. He was wearing old jeans and a loose t-shirt. His hair was held back by a bandana and his face was half-swollen. Clearly the man had taken a beating, but his shapeshifter biology was giving him a speedy recovery.
“Thank Christ you’re alive, Gem,” he said.
Gemma stayed half a step behind Mac, “Not exactly what I thought you would say.” Her tone was as sharp as the shards of glass on the floor.
By some silent message, Lee’s people cleared out, leaving him alone with Mac and Gemma. He scrounged behind the bar for an unbroken bottle and came back with a bottle of wine and three unmatched glasses.
He poured the red liquid out and gestured for Mac and Gemma to help themselves.
“We aren’t here for drinks,” said Mac. “And it’s a bit early.”
“Says the Scot,” Lee scoffed. “I take it you want information.”
Mac growled, “What I want is to wipe your entrails across the floor. Give me what I need and you’ll remain guts intact.”
Lee’s fingers tightened around the step of his glass and he swallowed hard. “Information isn’t free.” Lee didn’t seem surprised that Mac wasn’t the boytoy he’d been playing two nights before.
“The fact that I won’t kill you is my payment.” Though if the bastard kept this up, Mac would have no hesitation roughing him up. “You sold us out already. Atone.”
“I did not!”
“Lee,” Gemma tried to reason, “Even I don’t believe that.”
“Believe what you bloody well please, but I didn’t sell you out. Do you think Nigel’s thugs would have trashed my place if I’d done business?” He waved a hand, gesturing to all the damage. “I offered you safe passage, and I keep my promises.”
“So which one of your crew sold us to him?” asked Gemma.
Mac shot her a raised eyebrow and she shrugged in response.
“That information isn’t for you.” He sipped his wine, his hand barely shaking. “Now let’s do business.” He said once he set the glass back down.
“We want Rebecca Patrick. Where is she?” Mac didn’t want to play some back and forth game with the information broker. And even if he did believe that the man wasn’t responsible for their kidnapping, his claws still itched beneath his skin to tear out a piece of his hide.
Lee ignored Mac and looked at Gemma. “I hoped you would get out of there.”
Mac scowled. To say that he doubted the man’s sincerity would be a great understatement. “We appreciate your concern. But that isn’t why we’re here.”
“Ms. Patrick hired me to facilitate a meeting. As per my agreement, I’ve relayed the information between the two parties and, to my knowledge, the alpha is on his way now to retrieve his guest.” Lee’s finger idly traced the rim of his glass as he spoke.
“Was this before or after you agreed to help us retrieve her?”
“Mac,” Gemma interrupted. “We’ll be here all night if we concern ourselves with the minutiae.” She addressed Lee. “Are we too late?”
Lee smirked. “Not if our precious alpha followed the instructions that I gave him to the letter.”
“What?” Mac said. He would be glad when they were done with this rat.
“I don’t take kindly to men messing with my life like this,” he nodded toward the damage. “And plausible deniability is my friend in this instance.” Lee reached for a small napkin behind the bar and jotted down an address. “She thinks the alpha will be there at two, he thinks that she will be at a different cafe down the street at three. If you hurry, you may be able to intercept her.” He pushed the note towards Mac. “I can’t help you any further, but I do wish you the best.” Lee walked out of the room with a nod to Gemma, leaving the two of them alone.
Mac read the scrawled address on the cocktail napkin, but it meant nothing to him. His knowledge of London was both outdated and lacking. He passed it over to Gemma. “Do you know where we’re going?”
She snatched it from him and read. “Yeah, I know the place. It’s across the city, but if I drive like a maniac we’ll make it in time.”
Chapter Nine
Despite the traffic, she was able to find a place to park the car where they could still see the entrance to the café. Gemma turned to Mac, “Now it’s my turn. We don’t have time to fight her, but if you let me do this I think I can bring her here with no fuss.”
Mac furrowed his brow and his hands made twin fists at his sides. “She’s a dangerous woman. Her machinations nearly got our alpha killed and we can’t be foolish now.”
“I promise you I’m not being foolish, but I would bet good money that she knows who you are and on that same note she doesn’t know me. Please, Mac, trust me.”
Mac grabbed her hand and despite the fear, despite the fact that they were still in grave danger and at risk of failing their mission, Gemma had never felt stronger. Mac smiled, “I do trust you, Gem, so go get her and let’s get the hell out of here.”
Gemma raised their hands to her lips and kissed the back of Mac’s palm. “Wish me luck,” she said with a smile.
Mac just smiled and said nothing.
Gemma got out of the car and closed the door behind her. She walked away from the café and crossed the street. There were more than a dozen pedestrians walking to and fro, a few were even headed toward the café though most passed it by without a glance. Gemma didn’t care about the humans, right now they didn’t matter. She was concerned about Nigel’s werewolves and though she hadn’t said anything to Mac, a part of her was concerned that Lee had lied to them. If he had, they were screwed.
But as far as she could tell, neither Nigel nor his men were anywhere near them. This area of London was a mix of the working poor and the young hipsters who were attempting to take over. The hipsters had claimed the café. After her slight detour, Gemma crossed the street once more and entered the café. If anyone inside was looking, it would appear that she had come in on foot rather than in the car.
After the tumultuous days, that night at Lee’s, their fight in the warehouse, and the horrendous kidnapping it seemed almost too easy to find Rebecca Patrick sitting in the seat farthest from the door in this swanky café. But the American fox was right there doodling in a notebook and sipping a latte. She looked up when Gemma walked and immediately dismissed her. Gemma knew why, after all Jess had given her a complete rundown of her sister. She had said that Rebecca would be quick to dismiss a curvy Indian woman that she didn’t know.
Gemma had never been happier to fit that description.
Gemma didn’t bother order a coffee. Instead, she crossed the café and sat in the chair opposite Rebecca. The American woman looked up and scowled, “That seat is taken. Don’t they teach you any manners here?”
“Oh, I thought you were waiting for me, after all, isn’t that why you came to the city? Though I suppose I can tell the alpha that you weren’t interested in meeting him.” Gemma kept her posture relaxed and poured on the English accent. She sounded more like someone out of a BBC drama than anyone she had ever met.
But she caught Rebecca’s attention. The other woman leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, she was careful to avoid her drink and her notebook. “I didn’t think he would come through. I see the alpha finds my offer acceptable?”
“I suppose he does.” Gemma shrugged. Like she gave a crap what deal Rebecca had made with Nigel. “I’m to take you to him.”
“Why should I follow a damned lapdog?” From her tone, Gemma thought that Rebecca didn’t even realize she was incredibly offensive. This was a woman who didn’t understand that the world didn’t revolve around her. That just made this easier.
“Do you really think Nigel wastes his time on every newcomer to the city? He’s a busy man. So you can either let me take you to him or you can rot. I don’t really care which.” Gemma stood up and pushed in her chair.
She hadn’t even turned around when Rebecca shot up from her seat and snatched her notebook off the table, picking up her bag and shoving the notebook into it. The fox slipped the strap over her shoulder, “Fine, take me to him.”
Gemma led her to the door and opened it for her. Rebecca stepped through first and Gemma was sure to stay a step behind, the fox was never out of reach. She led Rebecca down the street towards the car, Mac was visible in the passenger seat, but it was hard to make out what he looked like. Rebecca didn’t realize who he was until it was too late. She tried to run, but Gemma clamped her claws on the back of Rebecca’s neck, “We’re taking you home, and if you try to run you will be in pieces.”
Gemma reached around Rebecca and forced her into the backseat of the car. Mac had already engaged the child locks and Rebecca was unable to get out the other side. Gemma slid in next to her and kept her claws out, resting them on Rebecca’s thigh.
“Was this your grand plan?” asked Rebecca. “Trick me into coming with you and hope I don’t escape? Do you really expect this to work?”
“Of course it will work,” said Mac. “It already has.”
“Do you have a mobile?” Asked Gemma. “Don’t make me search you.”
For a moment, Gemma thought the conwoman would attempt to lie or trick her, but she seemed to think better of it and reached into her pocket and pulled out a slim black mobile phone. Instead of handing it over to Gemma the fox closed her fingers around the glass and metal device and squeezed until the screen cracked and the casing buckled. She tipped her hand over and let the broken phone fall to the floor where she stepped on it. “Are you satisfied?”
“That will do.” If Rebecca hadn’t been eyeing her so closely, Gemma would have reached over and collected the broken electronics. But she thought better of it before she had a chance to act. “Is the flight arranged?”
“Yes,” said Mac. “They are fueling up as we speak.” Though Gemma had been the principal driver during their stay here, it would be up to Mac to get them to the airfield. Switching seats at this moment represented too much of a risk of Rebecca getting away. Mac moved quickly into the driver’s seat and pulled the car out onto the street and merged with the flow of traffic. They drove for several minutes, the ride stop and go as city traffic permitted.
She had been so focused on keeping Rebecca in her place, that Gemma didn’t notice that something was amiss until Mac swerved the car onto a small residential street. “What is it?”
“Our timing wasn’t as perfect as we thought.”
“Nigel?” Of course, it had all been too easy. But they had Rebecca now, and knowing Nigel, he wouldn’t try too hard to retrieve her. Especially if he thought gaining her would cost him more than it was worth.
“Most likely.” Mac responded.
Well, bollocks. “Is it true that you were driving in the Navigator incident?” she asked.
“The fact that we had still had three wheels by the time we got home speaks to my driving skills, not my recklessness. We had a coven after us.” For weeks, it had been the talk of the pack though Gemma had never seen the car in question. But Mac had driven through a heavy spell fight and not one pack member was killed. The car had been little more than scrap, though.
“Then show us what you’ve got.”
A black lorry pulled onto the street and aimed for their car. Mac sped up, taking the first through street and weaving in and out of the slow-moving cars. The lorry followed them, if this were some action movie one of the men would be hanging out the window trying to shoot a machine gun. But this was London, and they were all civilized werewolves. Except for Rebecca, of course, who was neither civilized nor a wolf.
Mac sucked in a breath and visibly flinched when he missed another car by three centimeters. But that did not slow him down and when he scraped against the rearview mirror of another car he did no more than hiss out a whispered sorry.
Gemma saw a huge lorry attempting to back into the loading dock of a nearby building. Mac saw the same thing. “Don’t get us killed, love.” The endearment slipped out, but Mac didn’t notice.
He sped up, and the black lorry tried to keep pace. She could see the driver of the delivery lorry waving frantically at their car, but Mac ignored him and kept driving. He made it through the gap between the lorry and the building with less than a meter to spare. Nigel’s lorry was caught behind them.
But they weren’t safe yet.
Mac pulled into traffic on the first busy road and followed all of the traffic laws. Under other circumstances, Gemma would have suggested ditching the car. But that would give Rebecca an opportunity to escape.
After several minutes of aimless driving and a vigilant look out for the black lorry, Gemma began to breathe easy. “Just one scratch? That’s hardly exciting.”
“Did you know that Rafe charged me for the damage to the car?” Mac grinned but kept his eyes on the road.
“Good for him, he pays you too much as it is.”
Gemma refused to believe that the excitement was over until they were well out of the city. But after another 30 minutes of driving, there was no sign of Nigel. And when they made it to the airfield she knew they were safe.
Their pilot had the plane ready and they drove the car onto the tarmac. Gemma flexed her claws. “Don’t make me get blood on this car or on the plane. I believe the phrase is wanted dead or alive. I don’t care which. Understood?”
Rebecca swallowed hard and paled. “Understood.”
Though she believed her, Gemma wasn’t stupid. She waited until Mac turned off the car and came around to retrieve them. He opened the door from Rebecca’s side and loomed over the fox while she got out. Gemma followed close behind, and once she was out of the car she wrenched Rebecca’s hands behind her back and held her tight.
The pilot gave no reaction to their companion. He only nodded to Mac and Gemma and told them they were ready to go.
“And the cage?” Asked Mac.
“As requested, sir.”
Once in the plane, that promise was confirmed. The back half of the aircraft had been encased in metal bars, though for the sake of humanity the floor was cushioned. Mac opened the door and Gemma shoved Rebecca inside.
The cage door closed with a clang and both Mac and Gemma stepped back. “It’s more room than flying coach,” said Gemma.
“Yes, I’m clearly flying in style.”
Gemma grabbed Mac’s hand and led him to the front of the plane. There was no door to seal them off Rebecca’s cell, but sitting towards the front meant that they could ignore her for the next several hours.
“So what will we do in Tahiti?” Gemma a
sked Mac.
Except for Rebecca’s periodic rapping on the bars of the cage, the flight home went smoothly. Mac and Gemma beside each other, their hands entwined. And were it not for their prisoner they would have taken advantage of the several hours they had free from distraction.
Mac’s ears popped as the plane descended from cruising altitude and landed at the private airfield outside of Falcon Point. Once they were on the ground, a team of guards met them, ready to take Rebecca into their custody. Rafe was there as well, standing outside a black SUV and wearing a pair of sunglasses to shield his eyes from the bright late afternoon sun. A black car was parked beside it. Jess sat in the front seat and the window was rolled down.
“It took you long enough,” he said. “I barely had any time to interview replacements for your position.”
Mac laughed and grasped Rafe’s forearm in his hand. He pulled his alpha close and patted him on the back before stepping back to let Gemma shake his hand. “How many times did the castle catch on fire?”
“Is he giving you shit?” asked Jess. “Don’t listen to anything he says. He missed you.”
“Two cars?”
Jess spoke, “I wanted some girl time alone with Gemma. You know how things get and I wanted to make sure we had a chance to speak.”
Mac and Gemma exchanged a look, and Gemma shrugged. Except for their capture they hadn’t been apart at all since leaving London, and things would change now that they were back. But Mac wanted Gemma to know that everything that had changed in their relationship in the past days wasn’t a fluke. He pulled her close and kissed her, a brief swipe of his lips against hers. Despite the quickness of the embrace, Gemma wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.
She pulled back and smiled, “Duty calls.” She said. “I’ll see you at home.”
Jess’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head and her expression barely recovered by the time Jess opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat. Jess rolled up her window and started the car, leaving Rafe and Mac alone on the tarmac.
