Page 141 of Nest of Thieves
Mac chuckles. “Bad Kitten.”
“Take it,” I say with a shrug.
Orc moves to do just that, but Vette and Mac yank him away from my body, pressing him against the brick wall. Lark steps forward and drops into a squat, undoing the straps and removing the weapon. He drops it to the asphalt and lifts his eyes to meet mine.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. This is a little dramatic, don’t you think?” I gesture to where Orc bucks against Vette and Mac’s hold.
“Hardly. It’s less than he deserves.” Lark stands and sweeps his hand toward the door.
“Let him go,” I tell the other two.
Mac and Vette share a glance and pull Orc away from the wall only to slam him back into it. The guy’s head hits the bricks, and he drops like one too, collapsing to the ground.
“Really?”
“What?” Mac asks, batting his eyes at me.
“Come on, mami. Damien is waiting.” Vette brushes past me, running his finger over my arm. He and Lark head in first. I follow them, and Mac brings up the rear, whistling softly.
It’s weird to be inside of a nightclub during the day. The lights are bright, and even though the dance floor is clean, it looks filthy rather than alluring. The tables against the wall have upturned chairs on top of them. We head straight to the back hallway. Vette knocks on the door and glances at me, nodding to let me know he has my back.
I straighten my shoulders and paste on mydon’t fuck with meface, stopping next to Lark. Mac’s fingers trail up my spine, but not even his playfulness makes me smile. A deep sense of dread swirls in my gut.
Something about this doesn’t feel right.
“Come in,” a deep voice calls from the other side of the door. Why does it sound familiar?
Vette twists the knob and ducks through the door. Lark follows. Taking a deep breath, I step inside. Hard steel eyes meet mine. A twisted smirk pulls at Laurence’s lips as he takes me in.
“You brought a friend,” Laurence—or should I sayDamien—observes. “Pretty little thing.”
I’m too stunned to speak. If he’s Damien...he has the Sunrise Ruby. What sort of game is he playing?
“This is Jo. Our mate.” Vette pulls me into his side.
“Mate?” Damien arches an eyebrow at me. “That’s surprising.”
“She needs our help. We brought her here to talk about—”
Damien holds up his hand, cutting Lark off. “Give us the room.”
“What?” Mac asks.
“The room. Leave.” Damien’s voice brokers no argument.
Three pairs of eyes land on me.
I furrow my brow and hold my boss’s gaze.
“I don’t think—” Mac begins.
“LEAVE,” Damien shouts, shoving an alpha command into his word. The guys are technically submissive to him since they’ve given him their allegiance, and they’re forced to listen to his command.
They fight it, though, so much so that audible grunts of resistance fill the room. Damien rises from his seat and walks around the desk. I turn so he’s not at my back and watch as he pushes the men from the room and shuts the door on their angry faces. He pivots on the heels of his polished shoes, straightening the collar of his button-up shirt. Damien is a good-looking man, but ugliness lurks beneath the surface.
“Kitty,” he purrs.
