Read Online Captivation: Shifters Forever Worlds (Shifters Forever After Book 4) by Elle Thorne - Free Book Online
Authors: Elle Thorne
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one thing:
Where was the Italian at the moment?
And then he’d boarded Mikhail’s plane and headed east.
When the jet landed at LaGuardia and he’d flipped his phone off airplane mode, he found a text from Braden.
The text read: Here are places you’ll find the Italian. It listed three addresses in Jersey. His home, his office, and his private club.
Bain frowned. Private club? Realization dawned. It was his own club. And that’s where he’d been held captive underground, shackled to that wall.
Bain rubbed his wrists and neck where the shackles had been. His scars from that ordeal had healed, barely noticeable, but they still burned whenever he thought of that time.
He shook the pilot’s hand as he got off the plane. “Tell Mikhail I said thank you for everything.”
Then another thought occurred to him, he turned back to the pilot.
“One more thing.” Bain swallowed back the ashes that seemed to have sprouted in his mouth. “Tell him to take care of Carina and Bree for me.”
Chapter 22
B ain had spent most of the day searching for the Italian. He wasn't at his office, or at his home, so finally, as it had begun to get dark outside, he made his way toward the Italian's private club. He parked the rental two blocks away and stayed in the shadows until he could see the Italian's main clubhouse building. Staking himself outside, he watched the perimeter. There was no activity. No one came, and no one went.
A scent assaulted his senses, one he recognized. One he never wanted to smell again.
The same scent he had smelled when he was kept captive. Deep within Bain, his polar bear roared with fury, sending adrenaline shooting through his veins.
Bain realized this was the Italian's secret lair.
I wonder what other secrets he has here. He glanced around looking for a security system, but found none.
How arrogant.
This was the place he was held captive, after all, and no one was the wiser for it. Bain was certain this location held many other secrets, and a drive to uncover them and bring them into the open added fuel to his cause.
The large building was made of stone and had to be at least a hundred years old. He approached the immaculately manicured lawn, allowing hedges and topiaries to serve as cover.
One by one, he tried the windows, and he got lucky. He raised the frame with a stealth that would’ve made Carina's cat burglar sister proud, then hoisted his body inside.
His shifter vision made light unnecessary. He studied the room he'd entered. A library, mahogany shelves stacked with books and more books. The scent of stale cigar smoke from an age long past would have gone unnoticed to a human’s sense of smell, but sat heavy on the air for a shifter. A thick plush Oriental rug lay in the center of the room, flanked by a desk and two leather chairs a dark brown color.
He didn't think this room held any secrets, so he opened the door to the hallway. Room to room, he searched the entire floor, finding nothing, until he came upon a final locked door.
Bain was not going to let a lock deter him. Confident he was alone, and unconcerned if the Italian would ever find out, he popped the lock with a flick of his wrist.
He opened the door and was immediately assaulted by the scent.
This was the place. Hate burned within him. He held his breath and took a step down the stone stairway. Step after step, he held his breath until he could no more, and then breathed shallowly.
He smelled the blood. His blood. And others’. He smelled the stones, the same stones had rubbed against his body, leaving it raw.
And then he saw them. The shackles. The room was subdivided by walls and each wall had shackles. This place was a torture chamber. It was a shifter brig.
A door caught his attention at the far end, and then he heard a sound that pulled him closer to it.
“I didn't expect to see you down here so soon.”
Bain spun around.
The Italian. Surrounded by four shifters. One of them with a Tranq pistol. He
Where was the Italian at the moment?
And then he’d boarded Mikhail’s plane and headed east.
When the jet landed at LaGuardia and he’d flipped his phone off airplane mode, he found a text from Braden.
The text read: Here are places you’ll find the Italian. It listed three addresses in Jersey. His home, his office, and his private club.
Bain frowned. Private club? Realization dawned. It was his own club. And that’s where he’d been held captive underground, shackled to that wall.
Bain rubbed his wrists and neck where the shackles had been. His scars from that ordeal had healed, barely noticeable, but they still burned whenever he thought of that time.
He shook the pilot’s hand as he got off the plane. “Tell Mikhail I said thank you for everything.”
Then another thought occurred to him, he turned back to the pilot.
“One more thing.” Bain swallowed back the ashes that seemed to have sprouted in his mouth. “Tell him to take care of Carina and Bree for me.”
Chapter 22
B ain had spent most of the day searching for the Italian. He wasn't at his office, or at his home, so finally, as it had begun to get dark outside, he made his way toward the Italian's private club. He parked the rental two blocks away and stayed in the shadows until he could see the Italian's main clubhouse building. Staking himself outside, he watched the perimeter. There was no activity. No one came, and no one went.
A scent assaulted his senses, one he recognized. One he never wanted to smell again.
The same scent he had smelled when he was kept captive. Deep within Bain, his polar bear roared with fury, sending adrenaline shooting through his veins.
Bain realized this was the Italian's secret lair.
I wonder what other secrets he has here. He glanced around looking for a security system, but found none.
How arrogant.
This was the place he was held captive, after all, and no one was the wiser for it. Bain was certain this location held many other secrets, and a drive to uncover them and bring them into the open added fuel to his cause.
The large building was made of stone and had to be at least a hundred years old. He approached the immaculately manicured lawn, allowing hedges and topiaries to serve as cover.
One by one, he tried the windows, and he got lucky. He raised the frame with a stealth that would’ve made Carina's cat burglar sister proud, then hoisted his body inside.
His shifter vision made light unnecessary. He studied the room he'd entered. A library, mahogany shelves stacked with books and more books. The scent of stale cigar smoke from an age long past would have gone unnoticed to a human’s sense of smell, but sat heavy on the air for a shifter. A thick plush Oriental rug lay in the center of the room, flanked by a desk and two leather chairs a dark brown color.
He didn't think this room held any secrets, so he opened the door to the hallway. Room to room, he searched the entire floor, finding nothing, until he came upon a final locked door.
Bain was not going to let a lock deter him. Confident he was alone, and unconcerned if the Italian would ever find out, he popped the lock with a flick of his wrist.
He opened the door and was immediately assaulted by the scent.
This was the place. Hate burned within him. He held his breath and took a step down the stone stairway. Step after step, he held his breath until he could no more, and then breathed shallowly.
He smelled the blood. His blood. And others’. He smelled the stones, the same stones had rubbed against his body, leaving it raw.
And then he saw them. The shackles. The room was subdivided by walls and each wall had shackles. This place was a torture chamber. It was a shifter brig.
A door caught his attention at the far end, and then he heard a sound that pulled him closer to it.
“I didn't expect to see you down here so soon.”
Bain spun around.
The Italian. Surrounded by four shifters. One of them with a Tranq pistol. He
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