Savage Redemption - By Alexis Morgan Page 0,29

Conlan parked and ran for the steps to his office. Finn met him on the porch with his body armor and holding Conlan’s favorite rifle.

“Thanks, looks like the party’s about to start.” He checked his sidearm and shrugged into his vest before taking the rifle. “With luck, we won’t need these.”

Although seeing the unmarked transport, he figured there wasn’t much chance of that. If it had been Ambrose’s men, they would’ve called ahead, and the insignia of the North American Coalition would have been emblazoned on the doors. Conlan’s instincts were rarely wrong; right now he figured they were about to have another run-in with someone’s hired muscle.

The transport maintained a steady speed as it approached the gate, probably hoping to bluff them into opening it as a matter of routine. At the last minute, the driver had to stand the damn thing on its nose to stop barely a hand’s breadth from the wire. That was a good thing for whoever was behind all that tinted glass, considering the amount of current running through the fence. It would’ve fried the vehicle’s electrical system, leaving them immobilized and vulnerable to attack.

Too bad. If they’d kept coming, that jolt would’ve solved the whole problem without Conlan or his men having to raise a finger. Now they were left with a waiting game, but as his fangs ran out to match his assistant’s own impressive set, he decided that he’d be damned if they blinked first.

He didn’t have to wait long. The front passenger door opened and a man climbed out. From that distance, it was difficult to tell, but Conlan thought it likely the guy was 100 percent human. For sure he wasn’t flashing fang. On the other hand, he wore combat-quality body armor and looked pretty damned comfortable with that high-powered rifle he was sporting.

Rather than wait for the intruder to open discussions, Conlan cut to the chase. “You might as well get right back in your transport and leave. We’re closed for the day. In fact, we’re closed indefinitely.”

Finn snickered, but their unwanted guest was clearly not amused. Neither were his two associates, who’d joined him at the gate. Conlan noted that they were careful to keep the vehicle between them and his direct line of fire. Smart of them, he supposed, but it wouldn’t save them once Finn got them in his sights. One squeeze of the trigger and there’d be nothing left of them and their vehicle except bloody bits of shrapnel.

The human held up a piece of paper and waved it in the air. “This is a warrant naming one Katherine Karr and two underage female chancellors. You are hereby ordered to remand them to our custody.”

Finn kept his eyes focused on the target but asked, “What the hell do they want with those two little girls?”

There could only be one possible answer. “To use as leverage against their aunt.”

What the hell was Kat involved in? Not that it mattered. He wasn’t turning her or her nieces over to this idiot.

Conlan sauntered closer to the gate. “Sorry, but that’s not happening. We’ve already agreed to hold Miss Karr here until Ambrose O’Brien arrives to take charge of the prisoner himself. As far as the two minor females, they are now legal members of this clan and therefore under the protection of Rafferty O’Day himself.” He smiled, making sure to show his fangs. “Whoever is holding the other end of your leash would be ill-advised to force the issue.”

The three men conferred briefly but made no move to return to their vehicle. The designated spokesman tried again. “Councilman Eddington’s jurisdiction supersedes Chancellor O’Brien’s in this matter, and O’Day has no legal right to claim the two girls. Surrender all three prisoners now.”

Oh, yeah, Conlan couldn’t wait to tell Ambrose about Eddington’s illusions of grandeur. No one—not human, vampire or chancellor—wielded more power in the

Coalition than Ambrose. He’d chew Eddington up and spit him out along with his hired help.

But unfortunately, Ambrose wasn’t there. That left it up to Conlan and his men to handle this situation.

“I should warn you that Rafferty and I don’t take kindly to threats. However, we’re not the ones you need to be worried about right now. I highly recommend you get back in your fancy transport and drive away.”

“We’re not leaving without the prisoners.”

“Then you won’t be leaving at all, because right now my friend here is developing an itchy trigger finger. If it even so much as twitches, there won’t be