Maybe he's right, she thought. Maybe it'd be better for me to hide out in the apartment until this whole thing blows over.
The idea didn't sit well with her, however. Having Kyle risk his life to keep her safe while she stayed locked away was unthinkable to her. She didn't want to lose control over her own destiny like that. But between the danger that threatened to overwhelm her and the lust for Kyle that she was using every bit of strength to suppress, it sure wasn't easy.
And, the way he just smirked and walked away when I told him ‘no', she thought, feeling her blood run faster through her veins, it's like he's so confident that I'll eventually give into what I want.
"You know, I'm actually thinking no tie tonight," said Kyle, tossing his tie over the mirror to his right and turning to Jo. "What do you think?"
The upper buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and Jo's eyes went right to the exposed hints of hard, sculpted pecs on display.
He knows exactly what he's doing, thought Jo, saying nothing.
"Well, I think it looks good, at least," he said, turning back to the mirror. "Anyway, let's get this show on the road, shall we?"
***
The silver Mercedes slid with silent ease into an open parking spot near the bar. Kyle killed the engine and stepped out, making his way with quick grace to Jo's door, popping it open, and allowing her to get out. Jo exited the car and stepped into the cool, evening air, the towers of the city looming above her, the night a clear, inky black above.
"Ready?" asked Kyle, extending his arm for her to take.
"Ready as I'm going to be," she said, slipping her arm into his.
"It'll be fine," he said, leading her towards the bar, weaving their bodies through the sidewalk crowds. "I'll do the talking."
"You seem pretty sure about that," said Jo.
"Of course I am," said Kyle. "It is my job."
The two arrived at the front entrance, a beefy man in a sharp, black suit standing before them.
"Private party," he said, his high voice a strange contrast to his imposing form.
"Fire Marshal," said Kyle, lifting the sleeve over his right wrist and flashing his Sapien tattoo, writing in strange lettering below it that Jo didn't recognize.
The bouncer's dark eyes widened.
"A Sapien, huh?" asked the bartender. "Anything I should be worried about?"
"Nope," said Kyle, his voice as calm and self-assured as ever. "Just a check-in."
The bouncer's eyes turned to Jo.
"And her?" he asked.
"She's on the level."
The bouncer gave Jo a quick once-over. She knew she should've felt a little violated by the bouncer's eyes moving up and down her body, but she sensed that there was nothing sexual in the way he was looking at her–it was all professional.
"Fine. Just don't cause any trouble; we've got a lot of bigwigs in tonight."
"I'd never dream of it," said Kyle, sidling his body past the bouncer and entering.
Jo followed in after Kyle. Before she'd even stepped into the place, the mellow sounds of opera swirled around her. And, as she stepped into the bar, she was taken aback at yet another example of class and sophistication that she wouldn't have expected from creatures that could change into beasts at will.
The place was tasteful and well-appointed, just like the hall where she'd met the bear elders. But, unlike the dark wood of the hall, this bar struck Jo as more like a classical museum, the interior laden with white marble, low, secretive lighting, and tight, cloistered spaces. Dozens of men and women, all dressed to the nines, were packed here and there, all engaged in lively conversation. The scene struck Jo as something that she might find at an evening party of Italian aristocrats in some stately Tuscan villa.
The eyes of nearby men and women fell on Jo and Kyle, and Jo felt immediately insecure under their skeptical glances; she could only imagine the wealth of those in attendance. Kyle, however, wasn't bothered in the slightest. He walked into the place as though he belonged, and made his way right to the wide stretch of bar, two fingers shooting into the air to summon the nearest black-clad bartender.
"Something for you, sir?" asked the bartender.
"Two gimlets, my good sir," said Kyle, affecting an aristocratic tone to his voice.
Gin wasn't Jo's drink of choice, and she wasn't even sure she was in the mood. But, as her eyes flitted from wealthy patron to wealthy patron, all looking at her as though they could see right through her, the urge to get some booze in her began to take hold.
Soon, a pair of lime-green drinks was placed onto the bar, and Kyle handed one to Jo. She took a quick sip, letting the tart concoction work its way through her. Jo took a slow breath and allowed herself to calm. But, before she could finish the process, a well-dressed, older couple approached her and Kyle.
"Mr. Thorne," said the man, a trim, older gentleman with a distinguished air, his hair a salt and pepper color, his face handsome, despite his age. "I wasn't expecting to see a Sapien this evening."
The woman, a slender blonde coiled at the man's side like a snake, said nothing, instead looking Jo up and down in a manner that made her very uncomfortable.
"That's the thing about Sapiens, Vincent," said Kyle, "we don't exactly announce our presence."
The man stiffened in place, his gaze shifting to Jo.
"And, who is this picture of beauty?" he asked. "Another member of your ranks?"
"Why, yes," said Kyle, taking the cover story and running with it. "New bear, new Sapien. Name's Kendra Waller."
"A pleasure," said the man, taking Jo's hand and kissing it lightly. "Though . . . she doesn't exactly have your scent."
"That's what I keep hearing," said Jo, picking up on the lie.
"Well, excuse my inquisitive nature," said the man.
"Kendra, this is Vincent Sugre, one of the more esteemed members of the Pellegrino wolf clan, and one of the members of the wolf three."
"Wonderful to make your acquaintance," said Jo.
The woman stayed back, as though not interested in participating in the conversation.
"This is quite the little shindig you guys got going on here," said Kyle, looking around.
"Why yes, it is," said Vincent. "It's the Bainchis; they're having something of a coming out party."
"The Bianchis?" asked Kyle, feigning surprise. "I haven't heard anything about them in years. They're back?"
"It would appear so," said Vincent. "They . . . came back on the radar, so to speak, only a week or so ago. They claim to have big plans for our humble species, though what those are, exactly, I'm not certain."
"Sounds a little odd," said Kyle.
"Perhaps, but the Bianchis have been one of our more respected clans for decades. We're simply glad to have them back in the fold."
"You don't think that there's anything unusual about how they're back on the scene, not a peep from them in years?"
Vincent shrugged. "Not really; it's not unheard of. The Malachi clan disappeared for nearly a decade back in the, ah, the sixties, if memory serves. There was a big to-do and everything. Wolves thinking that they'd been murdered and disposed of, other species were suspecting that they were up to no good; I believe some of the tigers were certain that they were planning some coup of the dragons. Well, as it turns out, they'd gone back to Italy. They arrived back in town, going on about how they needed to reconnect to the ‘old country’ or some such."
"Hmm," said Kyle, not seeming entirely convinced.
"Trust me, my friend," said Vincent, clasping Kyle's shoulder. "I understand that it's your job to be suspicious, and that we wolves aren't the most trustworthy species to outsiders, but everything is on the level."
"Well," said Kyle, affecting a warm tone to his voice, "if you're convinced, then I'm convinced."
Vincent nodded, a small smile crossing his lips.
"Very good," he said. "Well, we should finish making the rounds. Have a pleasant evening."
With a nod to Kyle and Jo,
Vincent and his partner were off, Kyle's eyes lingering on them as they melted into the crowd.
"What do you think?" asked Jo.
"He's on the level," said Kyle. "Well, as much as wolves can be. But, you and I both know that the Bianchis are planning something."
"Why didn't you say anything about what we know so far?"
"Because aside from the murder, the laundering, and the fact that they want to buy that tower, we don't know much. I can't go to an elder with nothing but suspicions; Sapiens are respected, but not that much."
Jo's eyes returned to the crowd. Through the thicket of people, she spotted a man wearing the blood-red tie of a Bianchi. His attention was diverted, as soon the crowd blocked his view once again.
"They're here," said Jo.
Kyle nodded, taking another sip of his drink.
"I see them," he said. "Just stay close. We don't want to get separated."
Then, as if on cue, a mass of people flooded in through the doors. As crowded as the place was before, now it was jam-packed full of well-dressed men and women, all chatting and packing around the bar. The quiet din of conversation soon turned to a low roar, and soon, Jo couldn't hear Kyle speaking to her unless he raised his voice over the noise.
"Hey!" he shouted. "Stay close!"
But, the crowd filed in at the bar, pushing and shoving as they clamored for drinks. Soon, Jo and Kyle were pushed apart, pulled into separate ends of the crowd as though being pulled out to sea by rip currents. Standing on her tip-toes, Jo struggled to spot Kyle in the crowd, but was only able to see the top of his jet-black head of hair.
"Goddamnit!" she hissed under her breath as she attempted to sidle her way through the crowd.
The music picked up, and between that and the chatter, she could barely hear herself think. She pushed through the tight knots of men and women, no small amount of dirty glances from aristocratic faces aimed in her direction. She struggled against the current to no avail; there were simply too many people.
Then, she felt the tight clasp of fingers around her upper arm. Spinning around, she found herself face-to-face with the precise man that she needed to avoid: it was Mr. Jane. Jo's heart felt as though it was wrapped in ice as she looked upon the man who wanted her dead.
"A pleasure to see you, young lady," he said, speaking close his breath hot on her face.
Jo wanted to scream. But, she knew it wouldn't do any good.
CHAPTER 15
The noise from the main floor of the bar cut out abruptly as the large wood doors shut behind Jo. A pair of Bianchis were awaiting her, and quickly grabbed onto her arms as the doors shut. Mr. Jane let go of her, turning on his gleaming, black, dress shoes and staring down at Jo with a menacing grin. Her heart pounded as he regarded her.
"There's the girl I've been looking for," he said through his smile.
Jo said nothing, paralyzed by fear. Her eyes shot from one Bianchi to the other, both men looking down at her with the expression of cats that'd finally caught the mouse.
"I was worried that we'd be unable to get ahold of you once you fell under the protection of that bear of yours. Little did I know that you'd fall right into my lap."
Mr. Jane turned back towards the hallway, gesturing in the air for the other Bianchis to follow him. The opera music was low through the door, and faded with each step. The hallway they brought Jo down was narrow and lined with ornate wooden doors, the space lit with faint, orange light. Soon, they arrived at one of the doors at the far end. With one last sneer back at Jo, Mr. Jane pulled the door open and tossed Jo inside.
It was a stark room with dark-blue walls with gold trim, a pair of wooden chairs the only furnishing other than a mini-chandelier that hung from the ceiling and bathed the space in a warm, golden light.
"Get her tied down," said Mr. Jane as the two other Biachis entered.
They complied, tying Jo down to the chair by her wrists and ankles. Her heart continued to pound, and she felt that she might pass out from fright at any moment. The two Binachis took their place at the flanks of the door, and Mr. Jane stood in front of her, saying nothing for a time.
"Not the best move to get involved in our little world," he said, speaking finally, clasping his long, thin hands together. "But, I'm sure that you don't need me to tell you that at this point."
"Where's Kyle?" she asked, the words blurting out.
She knew that she should've been more concerned with her own safety, but she couldn't help her thoughts focusing on Kyle. Mr. Jane raised his thin, neatly manicured eyebrows.
"Very touching that you'd be so concerned with him," he said. "But, don't you worry about that. We're simply going to extract a punishment for his murder of one of our clan."
"You mean the one of your clan that tried to kill me?" Jo said, her fear receding enough to speak.
"Mr. Thorne knows the life of a human is worth less, far less, than that of even the lowest shifter. Killing one of us in order to protect you was a . . . foolish decision."
Mr. Jane turned and began walking slowly back and forth.
"You came close," he said. "Too close. When you broke into your dearly departed boss's computer and found evidence of his money laundering, you gave us all quite a fright. Very, very close to figuring out what was going on."
"And, what was that?" asked Jo.
Mr. Jane looked hesitant for a moment, as though not sure what to tell her.
"That little meeting between him and I, that wasn't exactly what it appeared to be. Your boss knew that we wanted to buy the property in question. What was a surprise for him was that we were offering far less than he was anticipating."
"So . . . he was working with you?"
"Oh, absolutely," said Mr. Jane, his sneer returning to his face. "The deal was that he sells us the property, and in addition to having access to the money it would bring in, we would be able to use this new source of income as a way to hide our . . . other sources of money. Your boss was to facilitate the deal, turn a blind eye to the money, and not ask questions. In return, he'd be given a small cut of the profits."
"That was all a lie about not selling the building?"
"More or less. Why he choose to get greedy, who's to say? But now that he's out of the picture, a new agent will facilitate the deal, one that's perhaps more . . . amenable to our offer."
His eyes narrowed as he looked at Jo.
"That very well could be you. Think about it: you simply facilitate the deal, sell us the property at the reduced price. Then, you turn a blind eye. That's it–no work on your part. And, in return, we make you a millionaire within a year. Not to mention give your career the boost you're so desperately looking for. And, once we take control of the property, we'll have all the money and resources we need to finally take control of the wolves. We'll do away with the council, and establish the Bianchis as the leaders of the wolf society. Think of what allies like us could do for you."
Jo didn't even need to consider it. She'd seen first-hand just how the Bianchis treat humans. They'd killed Mr. Delany when he got in their way, and were about to do the same to her. Not to mention, she'd be betraying Kyle, the one man who'd stuck his neck out for her.
"Not a chance," she said, her voice firm.
"I figured as much, but it was worth a shot. You humans are so strange; I have no clue how you decide on the loyalties that you do."
"What's going to happen to Kyle?" asked Jo, her voice now weak.
"Ah, the Sapien bear? Well, I haven't entirely decided. But, let's just say at the moment that he's currently paying the price for killing a member of our clan."
Jo felt sick. She could only imagine what they might do to him.
"But, let's focus on more pressing concerns," said Mr. Jane, stepping close until he loomed over Jo. "Like, just what, exactly, we're going to do with you."
CHAPTER 16
Kyle's head snapped back as the fist connected with his face once again. He felt the skin of his lip split, followed by a warm trickle of blood d
own his chin. Turning back to face Melina, the partner of the wolf he'd killed in his recent fight and the fist's owner, he spit on the floor to his right, a thick glob of red blood splattering onto the floor.
"Wow," said Kyle. "I think you did actually did some damage with that one," he said.
"You are aware that you're tied down a chair, right?" asked Melina, rubbing the raw skin of her right hand. "I can keep this up all day, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it."
"Aside from break free and carve you to pieces, that is," said Kyle.
Melina smirked, balled her hand into a tight fist, and drove it into Kyle, connecting just below his rib cage, the fist hitting him square in the diaphragm and sending the air rushing out of his lungs in a split-second rush.
Okay, thought Kyle, reeling back in his seat from the pain, his hands clenched where they were bound in iron manacles beneath his chair, maybe I might want to ease up on the taunts; this girl's tougher than she looks.
Melina smirked. "Any more smart-ass comments?"
"No, I think that should do it for now."
"Good," said Melina. "I'd hate to have to end our fun so early because your attitude forced me to beat the life out of you."
Kyle slowly regained his breath, the sweat beading down his face hitting his eyes with salty stings, his vision now blurry.
"So, what's the plan here?" Kyle asked. "You're really going to kill a Sapien? That won’t exactly go over well with the powers that be, you know."
But, before Melina could respond, the door to the small room where he was being held opened with a slow creak.
"Very easy solution to that problem," said the familiar voice of Mr. Jane as he stepped into the room. "Soon, we'll be the powers that be."
Kyle looked over Mr. Jane, his eyes lingering on the man's trim frame, as if sizing him up for a fight.
"I have to admit," said Kyle, pooling in his mouth another bloody spit, "that's quite the ambitious plan. If you're gonna dream, dream big, I guess."
"Has he shut up yet?" asked Mr. Jane to Melina.
"I've been working him over for twenty minutes, and he's got a remark ready after every punch," said Melina, her silvery eyes narrowed.
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