Chapter 34 Connall
Connall
The paramedics slide Soren’s gurney into the back of the ambulance, where a grim-faced Isaac raises a hand in goodbye just as the paramedic closes the door.
A few seconds later, the vehicle pulls away, lights flashing and sirens blaring.
Connall’s wolf wants to break into a run and chase both vehicles down, but every instinct in him is being torn three ways at once.
To make matters worse, an unmarked black sedan rolls in behind the Fire Chief’s van, and a familiar face climbs out. The middle-aged Detective Lewis tugs up his brown trousers and straightens his matching suit jacket, already demanding answers from anyone who is in the vicinity.
The last thing Connall needs is a long, drawn-out conversation with the officer, who is less an innocuous, middle-aged civil servant than he appears to be and more a clever dog with a bone.
Lewis is long-winded and suspicious, but also straighter than an arrow—something Connall has always appreciated—just not now.
Spinning on his heel, Connall is careful not to make eye contact with the detective across the lot. Instead, he finds his friend leaning against Takashiro’s car with the much smaller man matching his posture.
“Boss-man. This is—” Beau’s words are cut short.
“I am Haruka Takashiro,” the much smaller man interrupts, bowing. Outwardly, he is being respectful, but Connall hasn’t survived interactions with the Japanese crime family by taking appearances for granted.
“It is an honor to meet you. I am Connall O’Daire.” The introductions are long overdue. Haruka had been present during meetings Connall had with his father, but the old man hadn’t seen fit to bother introducing his rival and his youngest son.
“Is everyone okay?” Haruka asks in gently accented English.
His question brings his thoughts back to Kaian, his mates, and those who had the balls to burn his club down. He crosses his arms before he can stop the telling gesture in front of someone who could otherwise be considered an enemy.
“Why the fuck was Vexley here? Did he go in after your mates?” Beau asks.
“Yeah. But—” Connall rubs his hand around the back of his neck. “His name is Soren.”
“Soren? Like Soren-Soren? Vexley is your Soren?” Beau looks as surprised as Connall had felt. Was that only three days ago?
Haruka’s lips are pulled back in a snarl, revealing surprisingly long and very pointy fangs.
Beau starts to laugh—loud guffaws that shake his massive shoulders.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Oh, this is outstanding. Your long-lost mate has been under your nose for as long as I can remember, and we didn’t know. Well, isn’t that just fucking perfect.”
“O’Daire-san, your mate owes me a hundred thousand dollars.” Haruka takes a menacing step toward Connall. “I lost money on his failure. I demand you compensate me, or I will—”
Connall bares his own fangs at the challenge, all urbanity slipping away under the threat to his bonded mate.
Bending over so they are almost nose to nose, his eyes flash red.
“Or you’ll what?” He wants to add short-stack, but when he glances at Beau, he sees his friend’s face has gone stone-still, and his massive fists are clenched at his sides as if he wants to throw a punch.
Instead of stepping back, Haruka only narrows his eyes.
It strikes Connall that the smaller man isn’t intimidated at all, no matter that Connall and Beau are twice as large and alphas as well.
Add to it that this is O’Daire territory and that Connall is a Pack Alpha with injured mates, and Haruka is being ridiculously brave—or stupid.
Sighing, Connall stands straight, but doesn’t take his eyes off Haruka. The beta has balls of steel, and besides, it wouldn’t serve any of them to start a war over this. “You play, you pay, Haruka-san. You know the rules.”
“Now you listen here, you big, dumb, alpha jacka—”
Beau snorts. For a moment, Connall thinks his friend is looking forward to seeing the scrappy Haruka Takashiro punch above his weight class, but he only loops a big arm around Haruka’s slim waist and closes a hand over his thin wrist.
Maintaining civil interactions with the usually polite Takashiro family has always been relatively easy.
They stick to their territory, obey treaties, and keep their business to weapons, prescription drugs, and the importation of luxury goods.
Connall supposes that now would not be the time to give Renji Takashiro’s youngest son a lesson in the rules of gambling and manners.
“I don’t have time for this. If you want your cash so bad, I’ll split the difference. Beau, can you—”
“Already covered, Boss. Leave it with me.”
“I always do.” Connall takes a step back out of Haruka’s reach.
He belatedly realizes that his shirt is missing a sleeve and wastes no time ripping the other sleeve off and tossing it through the Lamborghini’s window.
“I have to go. Soren and Quinn are on their way to Lupine, but—Beau…fuck…my mate, Kaian, was taken before the fire.”
“You almost lost three mates in the fire?” Haruka asks, keen eyes watching Connall’s face as if Connall were a bug beneath a microscope. Haruka has settled back against Beau as if he belongs there, hands over Beau’s. “That’s careless of you.”
“For real?” Beau interrupts. “I saw Vincenzo’s car when we pulled in. Can’t imagine he’d be stupid enough to set your place on fire. It’s a direct violation of our treaty, and why would he do it now? Jewel was already doing the risky work. It’s not like we pissed him off. Right?”
Voice cold as ice and hard as steel, Connall says, “Fuck no. But whoever took Kai left Quinn for dead.” It’s no easier to say out loud than it was to watch Quinn drive away ten minutes before.
“He’s a magic user, Beau. And Soren confirmed Vincenzo sent someone to Quinn’s place earlier this week.
Kai sent them packing—and not in a friendly way. Maybe that’s—”
“Kaian has magic, and they sent Vincenzo’s goons for retrieval? Stupid fuckers.” Beau presses his nose to the top of Haruka’s head. He closes his eyes, lost in thought. After a moment, his eyes pop wide. “Ru, do you think, they’re the same guys—”
Haruka finally realizes he’s been leaning on Beau, and he slaps the huge hands away like Beau had grabbed him against his will.
He adjusts his rumpled white suit coat, and it draws Connall’s eye to the missing button near the collar and the dusty shirt underneath.
The beta might be more unkempt than Connall is used to, but he still carries himself like royalty.
A smoky breeze blows a long strand of midnight black hair across his golden skin.
Beau’s hand raises and then drops to his side when he catches Connall looking.
“I do, unfortunately,” Haruka answers.
“Dammit,” Beau groans. He rubs his huge palm over the top of his head and down around under the collar of his dress shirt. Connall notices a deep purple-black, mouth-shaped bruise before it disappears again. “Boss, let us handle this. Okay? You take care of your injured mates.”
The creeping sense that Connall is missing something important slips through his mind.
The offer is exactly what Connall had wanted: Beau handling the search and cornering Vincenzo for answers, but now that Beau and Haruka are communicating like they can read each other’s minds, Connall is wondering what else is in play.
While he trusts Beau, Connall enjoys being out of the loop almost as much as he enjoys being separated from his mates, who are only getting farther away by the minute.
“We’re going to have company,” Haruka murmurs under his breath in Japanese. Across the lot, Detective Lewis is speaking with a forensics person as two black body bags are being wheeled out from the far side of the smoldering wreck of Connall’s club.
That brings the total number of bodies lying on the asphalt out of the way of the still-smoldering blaze to three. Connall adds the number to his ever-growing tally in his mental ledger.
The detective glances their way, raising a Ziploc bag. It’s easy to see there’s a gun inside.
“Fucking-dammit. I don’t have time for—”
“Go,” Haruka says. “Beauregard, you and I will handle the Detective.”
Beauregard?
That Haruka is giving orders to Connall’s right-hand man moves up the list of things Connall is worrying about. He raises a brow in question. “Excuse me?”
“Leave off, Con. Someone visited Renji Takashiro a few months ago, and then again earlier this week. Persistent fuckers, and you know how the old man likes pressure.” Not at all.
“I want to put out some feelers. Just go and text me when you know what’s up with your mates.
Haruka-san and I will do the same when we have news about Kai. Trust me.”
Eyebrows raised, Connall tilts his head toward Haruka. Arms crossed again, the smaller man levels him with dull brown eyes that dare him to say one more thing that will piss him off. When Connall leans toward his friend, Haruka lets out a growl so low it is almost imperceptible.
Beau hears it, too, because Connall has never seen a bigger smile on his friend’s face. What the fuck is happening? “Blink if you’re being held against your will,” Connall whispers loudly.
Beau’s eyes get so big that Connall can see the whites surrounding the black irises. Guess that’s a no.
“Okay. Good luck with Lewis and…everything. Text me.” Connall bows to Haruka, but slaps Beau’s shoulder.
He doesn’t look back as he escapes to the white truck, but he hears a scuffle and wonders if he’s just had a close call with a disemboweling.
The trip across the city toward the hospital takes too long.
Downtown traffic is a snarl, and it’s made worse by Lupine Park, located smack dab in the center.
When Connall finally finds a spot in the visitor’s lot and pays the extortionate parking prices, it’s been almost ninety minutes since the ambulances left The Hole.