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It’s the only territory that switches its leader seemingly weekly because several packs won’t think twice before cutting your throat if you stand in their way.
That’s why I always kept my head bowed protectively. Why I never stood up or questioned anything. It’s why I successfully hid, because no one paid attention to an unwanted packless beta.
“Wilder, do you copy?” Static buzzes through the speaker as his radio goes off, drawing our attention away from each other. “Our eyes spotted Tamsin. She just showed up at the Vixen Lounge.”
My chest clenches at the sound of Jude’s voice. He leads the caravan, riding shotgun in the front SUV.
“Copy that. We need to split up and surround the block. Separate and park. It’s best to go on foot. We’ll drive directly to the club. Don’t hurt those who surrender. Take anything of value.” Wilder adjusts the radio on his belt and pulls out his gun, double-checking the mechanics.
“Father would be so proud,” Enzo mutters, doing the same as Wilder as he prepares.
“It’s the only way. We must leave them with nothing. We need to make an example out of this area. We already have the destruction of the leading pack of Platinum Shores to our name. Now we’ll have the Gutter District. Soon we’ll garner enough attention and notoriety to instill fear in the heads of the Pack Regimes where they’ll want to create better alliances. And then we will reframe the infrastructure and rewrite its laws. We will not give them a choice. Their time is over. Ours is just beginning.” Arsenio twists in the front seat and looks at me. “This is for Kinsey and all of the other omegas and betas that have been wronged.”
“Damn straight.” Desmond taps his fingers on the steering wheel, following the SUV in front of us as it breaks away from the caravan. It rolls to the curb three blocks over from the Vixen Lounge and parks. I bounce in my seat, fidgeting with my long sleeves and the bulletproof vest Wilder equipped me with for my protection. They all wear them. It’ll be what gives us an advantage. Madame Tamsin’s too cocky to really think about what she has started. She’s trying to take us down with blackmail. Sometimes words aren’t enough. It’s the actions that will prove a point.
My heart pounds, thoughts echoing in my head. I concentrate on keeping my breathing even, matching it with Wilder’s. If he’s nervous, he doesn’t show it. Neither do the others. Only Enzo shifts in his seat, bouncing his knee, but it’s not fear. It’s excitement. Nothing gets his adrenaline going like running in to be the brutal knight someone needs.
“Security up ahead. To the right. Sniper watching the entrance. She’s expecting us.” Wilder motions toward the second story of the building across the street.
Desmond slows, and I realize that Wilder wasn’t talking to us. He was communicating it to the Gilded Sands’ soldiers.
I squint my eyes, staring out the window, and then I see a small flicker of light. I don’t hear gunfire, their weapons now equipped with silencers. At least some of them. It would be better if they don’t know we’re coming.
“All clear,” Jude says, his voice echoing through the sedan.
“Copy. We’re going in. Standby.” Wilder shifts in the seat, bumping his knees to mine. “Is there anything else you can think of that you haven’t already told us? We already know the layout and where her secret access door is to the tunnel beneath. The last time you knew, there were at least twenty omegas?”
I nod my head. “Twenty Gorgeous Girls. I’m not so sure about the traveling girls. I never met them.”
“Betas?” Enzo asks, holding his hand on the doorframe, getting ready to fling it open. “Bartender, cook, janitor, and servers, right? The bouncers will be alphas?”
“Unless she changed things. But she was always very particular about how she ran things. It’s early enough that there shouldn’t be many clients either.” Because most don’t show up until past the unofficial curfew meant to keep betas in their places as if they’re omegas. Only those who work the night shifts are left alone on the streets.
“We’re going to capture the clients. Do not kill any of them until we can properly identify which packs they belong to. We can use them as leverage.” Arsenio rests his hand on the dashboard. “I need your confirmation, Enzo.” He says it because Enzo’s more unpredictable. He always acts first without hesitation.
“Fucking fine. Unless they do something stupid. I’m only giving them two chances. I’ll give the first warning and then a second as I stab them somewhere unimportant. But if they fight after that, they’re dead.” Enzo growls with his words, his scent turning spicy at the thought.
“Make it three chances. If you don’t agree, then you’re going to guard the door.” Wilder narrows his eyes. “That’s an order as your older brother.”
“Three chances. He can handle that.” I reach out and rub his arm. “I know he can.”
He fake glares at me. “Damn it, baby. You know it’ll be more fun my way.”
“It’ll also be more dangerous. Take them captive. The only one who needs to face punishment is Tamsin. We need to make a point that we’ll no longer stand for these underground clubs.” Desmond glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Kinsey’s sanctuary idea will change everything.”
Slowing down, Desmond pulls to the curb outside of the Vixen Lounge. I don’t even have a chance to prepare myself as Wilder flings the door open and drags me out with him, keeping me at his back as Enzo looms behind me. Arsenio and Desmond fall in line beside me, and Wilder doesn’t even give the bouncer a chance to unholster his gun before he shoots him without mercy.
Several of our pack mates come in from the back, blocking that exit. Enzo raises his gun and pulls the trigger, shooting one of the lights to send sparks over the dancefloor.
“Everyone down and don’t move. If you try to fight, we’ll kill you. This is a hostile takeover. Tamsin, show your fucking self.” Wilder straightens his back, standing even taller.
People scream and yell. Some scramble toward the back exit only to have our betas block their way, giving warning shots at the floor.
“Tamsin!” Wilder steps a foot forward, and I shadow his every move. “Show yourself, or I will shoot every last one of your clients. You will not have another soul come into this club. I don’t know what you thought you’d accomplished by threatening my omega, but we don’t tolerate such things in our kingdom.”
Making a point, Wilder looks toward one of the security personnel hunched on the floor. I recall his name being Steve. He’s one of Tamsin’s loyal betas. The man cowers under Wilder’s gaze, but he doesn’t submit. He reaches for his jacket, trying to pull out a weapon like he even stands a chance.
I startle at the pop of Wilder’s gun, the shot ringing in my ears.
