Claimed (Blood Ties Book 6)

“Up there.” Carven stared at the shattered second-story window in the goddamn place. “It’s the only way in.”

He stepped closer, grabbed a thick wooden post rising from the veranda, and heaved himself upward.

“Careful.” I winced as I heard the thing creak and groan under his weight.

The siding gave way under his grip, splintering until it fell. My heart boomed with the collapse, making me step closer. We’d circled the place, trying to find a way inside. The shattered window on the second floor was the only possible way.

“Fuck!” Carven snapped, then tried again, this time finding a better grip to heave himself upwards.

We wanted in.

No. We needed in.

I stood there, watching my son risk his goddamn neck to find his brother.

“Wait,” Guild called behind me.

“Not now,” I muttered, flinching as Carven’s foot slipped, but still he inched toward that window.

“London,” Guild growled again.

Anger seethed. I snapped my gaze toward him, then slowly turned my head, sensing movement as Vivienne walked out from the front of the house with Colt’s hand in hers. “Carven,” I yelled.

“Not now,” he snarled, reaching higher toward that shattered window.

“Carven.”

He jerked his gaze toward me, then slowly shifted it to Vivienne and Colt. His foot slipped on the rusted, ruined siding. From the corner of my eye, I watched him as he jumped and landed hard on the ground next to me.

“Brother?” He brushed dirt from his pants and took a step toward them.

We couldn’t look away as Vivienne gave us a tortured look then slowly shook her head. But he was alive, and he was here. He limped when he walked, and flinched as Vivienne opened the rear door of the Raptor and helped him climb in. Still, he was wired as fuck, his wide, fixed gaze looked like a man who was holding onto the last, thin thread of sanity.

We all knew that look, as we strode to the four-wheel drive.

“I’ll sit next to him,” Carven muttered.

I gave him a careful nod and rounded the front, pulling my phone from my pocket. A swipe of the screen and I punched out a message to Doctor DeLuca.

I need you at the house asap.

Then I opened the driver’s door and climbed in. Car doors closed around me with careful, muffled thuds.

Beep.

I scanned the message.

DeLuca: Who is it this time?

I winced as I caught Colt’s panicked gaze in the mirror before I answered.

My son.

The engine started with a growl. I tried my best not to panic him anymore than he was, making sure the tires didn’t spin this time as we drove away. My headlights glinted off the busted open gate. I cast careful glances at Colt, sitting in the middle of the back seat, flanked on one side by his brother and Vivienne on the other, his hand grasping hers like grim death.

Easy.

I aimed the four-wheel drive back to the city, mentally calculating how the hell he’d gotten here from the slaughterhouse. He’d have had to run clear across the thick forest to get here. It was no mean feat…but it was doable. If you were desperate enough.

One look at Colt and you knew without a doubt he was. I turned, skirting the outside of the city, and tried to get home as fast as possible, pulling into the driveway beside the house.

“With me, now.” Vivienne held his stare. “Okay?”

Colt scowled, his focus fixed on her as he gave a slow nod. Guild was out of the passenger seat in an instant, carefully opening the door beside her. But the moment he grabbed her arm to steady her, Colt unleashed a savage snarl.

“Easy,” Guild murmured, instantly releasing his hold and lifting his hand.

My son wasn’t himself in that moment. The wildness in his stare told you that.

“He’s not going to touch her.” I watched him in the rear-view mirror.

Guild stepped away, allowing Vivienne to step out of the car, still holding Colt’s hand. He followed her, never once glancing at us.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Carven groaned, staring at them as Vivienne punched in the code for the back door and headed into the house.

My son glanced my way as I turned to watch the door close behind them.

“This is bad, London.”

“I know.”

“This is really…really fucking bad.”

I winced as he climbed from the car and followed them inside. I had no choice but to follow, wondering how the fuck I could keep us together now. How could I fight the demons that raged inside my son’s head?

I didn’t know. But I had to try.

I followed Carven and Guild inside and headed to our wing. I didn’t even say anything as Guild invaded our space, following Carven to Colt’s room. He couldn’t leave us, even if all he did was stand outside.

Carven lingered outside the closed bedroom door, listening to Vivienne’s almost inaudible murmur as she coaxed Colt into the shower.

“What if he…what if he hurts her?” He glanced my way.

I didn’t know.

No one did.

Where was the goddamn doctor when I needed him?

“I’ll make us some coffee,” Guild offered as he turned away.

“Don’t think I don’t know about Vivienne coming to you, either,” I muttered, my tone dangerous.

Guild stopped in the middle of the hallway.

“Before this night is over, you and I are going to have a conversation, my friend. One I don’t think you’re going to enjoy.”

“I can’t fucking wait,” he answered carefully, then walked away.

I sucked in a hard breath. The moment she’d winced and pulled away when I’d touched her in Helene’s basement, I knew something had happened. But it was that careful glance from Guild which sealed the deal.

Vivienne was pregnant.

And Guild had known before I did.

That twitch came in the corner of my eye.

I wanted to know why.

I turned around, listening to the water rush from inside Colt’s bathroom. They were in there now. Him and her. I could imagine how gentle she was…and how fucking on edge he was. I wanted to see him. I wanted to protect her. Both were needs I couldn’t fulfill, not now at least.

Beep.

I looked down at my phone.

DeLuca: Pulling up now.

“About goddamn time.” I gave one last glance at the closed bedroom door before turning away and heading for the front of the house.

Headlights flared. I waited for the thud of the car door before I opened the front door wide, watching him haul the massive black pack with him.

“This is becoming all too fucking regular,” he snarled as he pushed past. “How many more visits will negate your threat on my life?”

“As many as I fucking need,” I answered as I closed the door and started walking back to Colt’s room.

The doctor followed without a sound, meeting my gaze only when I stopped outside Colt’s room and placed my hand across the door, blocking his way. “I want to make it perfectly clear what you’re about to see in here is very much my son. So, I’ll expect you to treat him accordingly.”

He scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I leaned close. “It means he is…” my mind raced, trying to work out how the fuck to convey what he was about to find. “He’s fragile. That’s what it means.”

He glanced at the door, steadied himself, then gave a slow nod. “Understood. Now, let me do my job. Let me help him.”

I fucking prayed he could, pushing away from the doorway and taking a step back. “I’ll be right here.”

“Fine.” He turned the handle, then stepped in, closing the door behind him.

I hovered, making sure Colt didn’t kill anyone right off, then turned and headed for the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee was sharp and pungent as I filled my lungs with a deep breath.

Guild was waiting for me, just like I knew he would be. He stood beside the counter, nursing a steaming cup of coffee which he pushed away as I neared.

He thought I was going to hit him. I winced, guessing I deserved that. But as hurt as I was about this whole fucking thing, I was also desperate to keep us all together. A family divided was a family in danger and right now…that was the last thing I wanted.

I poured a cup and turned, meeting his stare. “Want to tell me what happened?”

He gave a shrug. “Depends. Am I going to get punched in the face for it?”

I scowled, then shook my head.

“Good. She came to me as a friend, and as her friend, I helped her.”

“And you couldn’t come to me?”

“And betray her trust? No, London. I couldn’t.”

Anger flared, making me push off the counter. The thought of her going to any other male but me or the sons made me feel violent. I clenched my jaw, meeting his stare. He held his breath, waiting for me to react.

I lifted my hand and gripped his shoulder. “Thank you for being there, even though you knew it’d piss me the hell off.”

“Do you even want to know what she asked for?”

I met his stare, then gave a shake of my head. “No. When she comes to me, that will be good enough.”

“Jesus,” he exhaled hard. “Who the fuck are you and what have you done with London?”

I gave a chuckle, dropped my hand and turned to grab my coffee. “Keep that up and you will get socked in the jaw.”

He let out a grunt of distaste, one I knew accompanied a shit-eating grin. I left him, making my way to the study. The moment I stepped inside, any fleeting hint of amusement left me…because now I had my family back, my attention turned to the new nagging problem.

Haelstrom Hale’s dead body.

I placed the cup down and sat behind my desk.

Beep.

I looked down.

Baron: Did you hear the fucking news? Hale is dead? Tell me this is true.

Footsteps came before I even responded. I lifted my gaze as the doctor hesitated in the doorway, peering in before entering.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep…beep…beep.

I pressed the button, switching it off. I didn’t need to read the goddamn messages to know what it was. It seemed word had gotten out. The soulless bastard was dead. My gut clenched as I narrowed in on the doctor. “How is he?”

“Like a man who’s been beaten and tortured for almost three weeks,” he answered, meeting my stare.

I didn’t like him, didn’t like how he seemed to have grown a pair of balls in our short but violent interactions.

“Apart from that,” I forced through clenched teeth.

“I checked his wounds. The ones I could see, anyway. There’s internal bleeding, a fair amount, if I’m honest. How much, I won’t know until I do an ultrasound…and this time I will do an ultrasound. The stub of his amputated thumb has been cleaned. I can offer the name of a brilliant plastic surgeon to assist with the scarring on that and the multiple lacerations the man has endured. But none of that will matter a damn if you don’t take care of the pressing issue.”

“Which is?” I didn’t have to ask. But something compelled me to hear it.

DeLuca stepped closer, gripped the edge of the desk, and leaned down. “He needs a fucking psych consult,” he growled. “And now. That man…that man is a goddamn danger to everyone else around him.”

Vivienne.

I shook my head.

“He’s barely holding on, London. Christ if I don’t understand how he isn’t psychologically destroyed after what they did to him. All it’s going to take is one wrong fucking move and there will be dire consequences.”

I met his stare. “Take a look around you, doctor. Our entire existence is living with ticking time bombs. You think my son is going to be any different?”

“But he is different. You know that.”

I shifted my gaze to the now quiet phone on my desk, knowing by now there’d be at least ten, twenty missed calls and messages. “Whatever my son needs, we will provide.”

DeLuca muttered under his breath. “Goddamn unbelievable. I should’ve fucking known.” He turned and headed for the door.

Still, I stared at the silent phone. This feeling in my gut was more than a hunch, more than goddamn denial. I didn’t care that they’d dragged what looked like Hale from the goddamn river. I knew it was a fucking lie.

“Wait,” I commanded, watching him stop in the doorway without turning. “I need you to do one more thing for me.”

He spun, glaring. “What the fuck is it now?”

“I need you to get me into the morgue…as fast as you can.”