“Doesn’t count,” Reese said. “This is werewolf business.”
Nick hesitated. He had vowed not to be his father. He would protect the boys, but he wouldn’t coddle them. Yet as he paused, his gaze went to Reese’s two maimed fingers. Chopped off by a couple of mutts in Anchorage, partly a warning, but partly just because they could. These days, Reese would have been prepared for those mutts. But he sure as hell wasn’t prepared for Malcolm.
“Not this time,” Nick said. “Not with Malcolm.”
“Because he’s a badass. And a psychopath. I’ve heard the stories. Hell, I even heard them in Australia, long after he was supposed to be dead. All the more reason for you to have backup.”
“Which I will. Clay will join me as soon as I’ve confirmed the situation. I can handle this, Reese.”
“I never said you couldn’t.”
As Nick stared him down, Reese dropped his gaze, grumbling slightly, knowing that if he insisted, he was saying Nick couldn’t handle it.
“I’ll call if I need you,” Nick said.
“Bullshit.”
Nick met his gaze. “If I say I will, I will. You know that.”
Again, Reese grumbled and looked away, but he nodded, saying a “Fine” that insisted it wasn’t fine at all, then shut the door and let Nick drive away without him.
6. NICK
Nick had less luck persuading Vanessa to stay behind. Admittedly, he didn’t try very hard, after telling Reese he’d have an agent backing him up. He’d already strained the truth with Reese by suggesting Elena knew exactly what he was up to. He’d texted her to say that Rhys’s handler lost touch with her agent so he was flying out that night. Once he had visual confirmation of Malcolm, he’d call Clay in. All technically true. He’d just left out the part where that MIA agent had almost certainly been kidnapped by Malcolm.
Vanessa had bought them first-class tickets. Probably assumed he wouldn’t fly coach. Not necessarily true—he was as flexible in that as in everything else—but yes, given the choice, he’d take the extra leg and elbow room.
Their seats were together, which was less comfortable. He hadn’t forgotten that this whole mess could have been avoided if she’d listened to him. Also, while he wasn’t one to hold a grudge, her early mockery still stung. If it wouldn’t have been rude, he might have switched his seat. As it was, he just worked quietly on his laptop.
Halfway through the short flight, Vanessa cleared her throat and said, “Tell me about Malcolm Danvers.”
He glanced over. She had her laptop out. Malcolm’s dossier was right there on the screen, and he wanted to tell her to read it instead, but that was being pissy. She followed his gaze, though, and said, “That’s his bio from Elena. Heavily redacted.”
“I’m sure she didn’t remove anything you need to identify him. Or to understand what he’s capable of.”
“No, but it’s like reading the arrest file for someone who was never charged with a crime. Without a trial, there’s nothing in-depth. No motivation. No insight.”
“I’m not sure I can provide that, either. I knew him for half my life, but we weren’t close. Malcolm had his favorites. Thankfully, I wasn’t one of them.”
“Who was?”
Nick hesitated, but the answer did explain more about Malcolm, which would help her.
“Antonio—my father—and Clay were his favorites,” he said, “Jeremy was … not the kind of son Malcolm wanted. So he looked for substitutes. Antonio was a fighter, and that always topped Malcolm’s list of requirements. But when Clay came along …?” Nick shrugged. “My father isn’t aggressive. There’s no edge. No anger. He fights for pure physical challenge. Clay has edge. He was bitten as a child. He embraces his wolf side more than any of us. Malcolm was fascinated by him. He didn’t understand him, though. Whatever Clay’s rep, he’s no psycho. If you threaten his family, he won’t think twice about killing you. But otherwise? He’s never laid a finger on anyone for kicks. He wouldn’t understand that, any more than a real wolf would. Violence is for problem-solving. Malcolm didn’t get that. When Clay wouldn’t hunt mutts for sport, Malcolm blamed Jeremy’s influence. It didn’t matter how much Clay hated Malcolm—and he hated him more than anyone—Malcolm never stopped pursuing him.”
“As a substitute son? Or … more?”
“Antonio always thought there was more to it when Malcolm chased him. There was no shortage of women in Malcolm’s life, but he had nothing but contempt for them, and humans in general. So maybe there was some confusion there. Looking to make a connection, whatever that connection might be.”
“Is Elena in danger, then? If Malcolm wanted a woman of his own kind, there is one now. Only one.”
“He won’t go after her like that. It’d be easier if he would—lay a trap for him. She might be a werewolf, but to him, she’s just a woman. Weak.”
“Except she kicked his ass.”
Nick smiled at the thought. “True, but that’s only going to piss him off. Elena belongs to Clay, so she’s relatively safe. Same with me.”
“Because you’re Antonio’s son.”
He nodded. “Malcolm never pursued me, but he treated me well for Antonio’s sake. I’d say that means he won’t come after me, but I’d never make that presumption. It only means I’m unlikely to draw his immediate fire.”
“He’ll think twice before attacking you.”
“No, but he’ll think twice before killing me.”
“According to the GPS from Tina’s phone, she was somewhere around here when she called. It was shut off after … Nick?”
They’d arrived in Detroit an hour ago, rented a car, and drove to this neighborhood. They’d been walking for about ten minutes as Nick followed the trail. He’d moved away while Vanessa had been talking. Now he lifted a hand, telling her to be quiet as he listened. The night was still and silent. Nick could see signs that it hadn’t always been like that. There had been shops, but they were long closed and boarded up. An empty block, inhabited only by homeless people and vermin. Vermin of the animal variety—even gangbangers and dealers didn’t see profit in a place without buyers. Contrary to what the news reports might suggest, the whole city of Detroit wasn’t like this, but there were pockets of it. A modern-day ghost town.
Tina should have taken one look around and known she was being led into a trap. But she’d been too cocky. He’d gotten that vibe from her when they met, and it was part of what made him decide they wouldn’t spend the night together. Here, she would have looked around and thought this was the perfect place to catch her prey, without ever considering Malcolm might be thinking the same thing.
“Stay close,” Nick said as he set out.
“We should do this methodically,” Vanessa whispered as she jogged to catch up. “Tina said it was a blind alley, so if we cover the area strip by strip—”
“No need,” he said. “I have her trail.”
“Trail? Oh, right. Scent. Okay. I’ll cover you.”
Vanessa had a gun. A legal one she’d checked at the airport. While she’d readily admitted that she hadn’t been in the field for a few years, she seemed to know what she was doing, so he left her to it and focused on Tina’s scent.
Even without the trail, he could have guessed where Tina was heading—he could see two burned-out streetlights ahead and a dark roadway that seemed to lead to a dead end. Only her trail entered the blind alley, though. That gave him pause, but he continued following the trail until—
A scent hit him so hard that he stopped in mid-stride. It was no stronger than Tina’s, but it felt like cold fingers reaching deep into his brain to pluck out a memory long buried.