Charlotte Garten
The cat hours were winding down, dawn creeping over Porte du Coeur’s skyline as Lottie trudged toward home. Her feet ached, her makeup was probably a mess, and all she wanted was to fall into bed. Fifteen days. Fifteen days since Ellis disappeared, and a week since she’d started asking questions. At first, she’d been hopeful. Someone always knew something in their world, especially when she’d dropped Gabriel Rohan’s name. But the days had dragged on with nothing but dead ends and false leads.
Maybe Ellis had been moved out of PDC, as some were saying. Maybe she’d waited too long to start asking around. Maybe—
“Hey, beautiful.”
Lottie didn’t even break stride. “Not tonight, Gage.” Her last client had been particularly demanding, and she just wanted a hot shower and sleep.
“Aw, come on, baby. You’re looking fine tonight.” His footsteps quickened to catch up with her. “Let me buy you breakfast.”
“I said no.” She kept walking, not bothering to look at him. “Go home.”
“Don’t be like that. Been thinking about you all night.” He moved to block her path, that eager puppy smile on his face. “Just give me five minutes of your time.”
Lottie side-stepped him. “My time costs money, honey, and you can’t afford it. Now fuck off.”
“Maybe we could work something out?” He fell into step beside her again. “I got information you might want. Trade you for a drink?”
“Jesus Christ, Gage.” She said, running a hand over her face. “I’m exhausted. I’m not in the mood for your games. Either say what you need to say or leave me the hell alone.”
His smile turned sly. “Found your missing boy.”
That stopped her cold. She turned, ready to tell him exactly what she thought of his bullshit, but the words died in her throat. Gage held up his phone, and there was Ellis: handcuffed, face bruised, eyes glazed.
“Where?” Her voice came out sharp.
“South Affie’s warehouse.” Gage’s grin made her skin crawl. “Just got back from there myself. Wanted to show you I found your boy.” He leaned closer, like they were sharing a secret. “See? I can be useful. Maybe now you’ll—”
Everyone knew the South African’s, Don Haldeman’s, warehouse. Everyone knew to stay the hell away unless they wanted to disappear.
“What were you doing there?” She cut him off, stomach turning at the implication.
Gage shrugged. “Getting my kicks.”
“With Ellis?” Her hands curled into fists.
Another shrug, that sly smile still playing on his lips. “Maybe we could discuss it over—”
Her knee connected with his groin before she could think better of it. He doubled over with a satisfying wheeze as she snatched his phone.
“Hey!” he gasped.
“Shut up.”
She was already running for the metro, her exhaustion forgotten. The warehouse district was a death trap, but Gabriel Rohan could call in the kind of backup that might stand a chance. And Gabriel would want to know immediately.
The pre-dawn streets of Lafayette Square were silent as she sprinted from the metro station a long half-hour later. She’d spent days carefully crafting contacts, asking just the right questions in just the right places. And all along, Ellis had been in that bastard’s warehouse. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she ran, each step fueled by fury and fear.
She pounded on the mansion’s door until it opened, revealing Jacob’s perfectly composed face. Lottie did a double-take—did the man ever sleep? Even at this ungodly hour, he looked like he’d stepped out of a butler catalog, not a wrinkle in sight.
“I need to see Gabriel.” She pushed past him into the foyer, not caring about etiquette or hour. “Now.”
“Ma’am, you can’t—”
A tall figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Dark hair, olive skin, built like a Greek god. Lottie’s brain supplied ‘Peter’ even as her mouth said, “Well, aren’t you a tall drink of water.”
The blush that crept up his neck was adorable, but his stance was pure security professional. “Miss, you weren’t invited—”
She held up the phone, Ellis’ battered face visible on the screen. Peter’s expression hardened.
“Jacob, wake Mr. Rohan. Now.” Peter gestured for Lottie to join him on the stairs. Jacob slipped past them on silent feet, practically vanishing into the shadows. Definitely supernatural, Lottie decided. No human moved that quietly at this hour. Or ever.
Peter escorted her to Gabriel’s study, his hand warm on her lower back. Any other time, she might have enjoyed that, but right now, her thoughts were on Ellis and what two weeks in that warehouse might mean. The image on the phone haunted her: his glazed eyes, the bruising, the way his wrists were rubbed raw from the cuffs...
Gabriel strode in, wearing nothing but sleep pants, his hair still mussed.
She handed Gabriel the phone without preamble. “A guy named Gage took that picture a few hours ago. Ellis is in Haldeman’s warehouse.” She watched Gabriel’s face darken. “The South Affie’s been branching out from his usual smuggling.”
Gabriel held up the phone to Lucas and Alain as they entered the study, both in varying states of undress. “We found him.”
Alain was already dialing. “Nika? We need that favor.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, now.”
“Where?” Nika’s voice crackled through the speaker.
“Haldeman’s warehouse,” Gabriel said, his voice carrying clearly to the phone. “The South Affie has Ellis.”
“The Bratva won’t come cheap,” Nika replied. “They’ll want something in return.”
“I don’t care what it costs.” Gabriel’s voice was ice. “Get them.”
“I’ll make the call.” A pause. “Get dressed, all of you. We’re going on a raid.”