Page 23 of Property of Mako (Kings of Anarchy MC: Louisiana #1)

Among Wolves and Vultures

Mako

The air inside the veil was heavy—sweet with perfume, sharp with blood, and humming with power so thick it felt like it was crawling across my skin.

Every creature here was a predator. Some didn’t even try to hide it. Vampires with eyes like molten gold, mercurial silver, or pitch-black voids. Demons whose shadows twitched independently of their bodies. Witches wearing sharp smiles like knives. And every one of them dripping wealth and power.

Lyra stayed close to Dexter’s side, playing her role better than I’d expected. The silk of her dress caught the golden light of the chandeliers, her lips painted a deep wine-red, her expression the perfect balance of obedience and boredom. Anyone watching would believe she belonged to him.

Anyone except me.

I could feel her pulse from here—steady, but a little too quick. Despite the glamour she was veiled behind, as my mate, her scent curled in my lungs, that mix of warm skin and wild hair that made my fangs ache. Not the time.

“Eyes forward,” Crypt Keeper’s voice came through the comm tucked in my ear. “We’ve got watchers at the stairs.”

I glanced casually toward the grand staircase. Two vampires stood there, lean and elegant, their eyes tracking us like hawks. Their auras screamed Covenant, but their suits screamed money.

Spook’s voice crackled in next. “I’m getting glimpses of a holding area. Far side of the east wing. It’s warded everywhere but the locked door. I can’t project into the room. Too many guards to just stroll in. We need a distraction.”

I swept my gaze across the crowd. It was a sea of black suits, glittering gowns, and masked faces.

Waiters carried trays of crystal flutes filled with something far too thick to be wine.

A slow, sultry violin piece drifted through the air, curling around the hushed conversations.

Somewhere beneath the glamour of the room, I could hear a faint, rhythmic thrum. Heartbeats. Too many.

The girls.

We wove deeper into the crowd. No one blocked us, but I could feel the glances slide over us, weighing, measuring. There was a different kind of danger here—more refined than back-alley ambushes, but far more lethal. One wrong move and we’d be surrounded before I could even bare my teeth.

Then I saw him.

Thane.

He was standing near the base of the staircase, speaking to a pair of witches in gowns stitched with silver runes.

His black suit was cut to perfection, his dark hair tied back, and that trademark smile carved onto his face like it was painted there.

His eyes found me for a fraction of a second, then moved on as if I were nothing.

But I knew he’d clocked me.

Dexter leaned toward me slightly, murmuring under his breath. “If he knows, we’re fucked.”

“Then he won’t know,” I replied. My gaze never left Thane as we drifted toward the east wing.

The glamour here was strong. I could feel the magic pulsing through the walls, cloaking whatever was behind them. But every now and then, the veil shimmered just enough for me to glimpse movement—shadows shifting, a pale face peering out before vanishing.

Lily was in there. I could feel it in my bones.

“Crypt, you in position?” I murmured.

“Two guards down. Moving in,” he replied. In the background, I heard the faint sound of claws hitting marble.

Spook’s voice followed. “I’ll be in the shadows. Signal when ready.”

We were almost at the side door when Thane’s voice slid across the space between us like silk over a blade.

“Well, well. The Kings of Anarchy. And here I thought you didn’t receive invitations.”

Lyra stiffened beside Dexter. I forced my body into stillness before turning toward him, letting the corner of my mouth curl just slightly.

“Would’ve been rude not to show,” I said.

Thane’s smile deepened, but his eyes—those icy, inhuman eyes—never left mine. “Oh, I agree. After all, tonight’s offerings are… exquisite.”

My fingers itched for the hilt of my blade. Not yet. Not here.

He scented Dexter and his gaze narrowed. “What exactly are you?” he asked as I stared deep into Dexter’s gaze.

“None of your business,” Dexter shot back with an arrogant stare. He was playing the part of a powerful ancient well.

Thane chuckled darkly as he inclined his head slightly toward Lyra. “And this must be your… pet?”

Dexter’s grip on her arm tightened almost imperceptibly. “Yes. She’s mine.”

Thane’s gaze lingered on her a moment too long, something dark and knowing flashing there before he turned away. “Enjoy the festivities, gentlemen. They promise to be unforgettable.”

He drifted back into the crowd like smoke, and only when he was gone did I let my jaw unclench.

We didn’t have much time.

* * *

I tapped the comm twice—our signal.

Almost instantly, the crystal chandelier above the central ballroom shuddered violently. A sharp snap rang out and the massive fixture came crashing down, glass and gold scattering like a hail of deadly stars. Screams erupted. The music died in a violent string snap.

In the chaos, Dexter, Lyra, and I crept the rest of the way along the edge of the room toward the curtained hall leading to the east wing.

Right before we darted through, I made a sweep of the room to see if we’d been seen.

Thane was barking orders to the two goons at the top of the stairs and didn’t seem to be paying attention to us.

The corridor was empty, and Lyra’s heels clicked on the fine, white marble as we hurried toward where Spook waited. My brows lifted, impressed at the three dead guards piled up and tucked into an alcove.

“Nice,” I complimented.

“I aim to please. They were responding to the call about the chandelier,” Spook returned with a modest shrug. “This way.”

We followed him to the end of the hall, then took the left branch into the east wing, where he vanished after a whispered, “Keep going.”

At the end of the hall, there were three more men dressed to the nines but armed to the teeth.

“Shit,” Lyra whispered next to me.

They hadn’t noticed us yet. “Play along,” I instructed before I chuckled and pushed her against the wall.

She giggled and moaned when I playfully nipped the plump arch of her breast above her bodice.

“Hey! You can’t be back here!” one of the idiots called out.

Pretending to be surprised anyone was here, I lifted my head with mock-innocent wide eyes. “Excuse me? Do you know who I am?” I demanded in a pompous tone that I hadn’t used in centuries.

“I don’t care who—” the guy started to snap back but Crypt Keeper burst through the east wing door in wolf form, a blur of black fur and bared teeth.

He slammed into two guards, sending them sprawling.

Spook materialized behind the one who had spoken to us, snapping his neck before he hit the ground.

Spook grabbed the ring of gold skeleton keys from one of the guards, and the door opened with the third key he tried. He turned the knob and cracked the door slowly.

“Let’s move!” I snarled, shoving the door open wider.

Inside, the air was cooler, dimmer—and humming with restrained panic. The glamour was thinner here, and I could see the rows of young women lined against the far wall, each chained with silver cuffs. Some shrank back at the sight of us. Others just stared with dull, hopeless eyes.

Then Lyra froze.

I followed her gaze—and there she was. Lily.

She looked so much like Lyra, if I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought it was her daughter.

Her hair was blonde and coifed, her eyes terrified and wide, but she was alive. When she saw Lyra, her lips parted, and she appeared confused, but I swear the smallest spark of hope flickered there.

“Go,” I urged, but my tone carried the warning that she couldn’t break cover yet.

“Mako,” Spook’s voice cut through. “More guards inbound. Heavy hitters.”

I scanned the room, calculating. We were close—so close—but one wrong move now and we’d never make it out with them.

Lyra’s fingers brushed mine—just the faintest contact—but her eyes burned with the same vow I’d made to myself the second I’d heard Lily’s name that day in the club’s new shop.

We were getting her out.

No matter what.