Kiyo smirked. “There’re plenty of neighborhoods like that. We’re taking the main road that cuts through the entire city.”
As they drove onward, even though they were still on multilane main streets, the buildings did seem to crowd closer together.
Kiyo leaned over, pointing out the window. “We’re in the pack’s ward now. Shinjuku. All of these signs”—he gestured—“are neon at night.”
Niamh could imagine it in her mind from the images she’d seen of Tokyo over the years. “I can’t wait to see it.” Her tone was dry as her she spoke into his head, Assuming I live through this.
He huffed under his breath but didn’t comment again until five or so minutes later when they were suddenly surrounded by extremely tall buildings. “Skyscraper district.” He relayed and then clarified. “Business district.”
The pack is based out of this district?
Kiyo nodded.
When you said they were powerful, you meant in more ways than one.
Another slight nod.
Shit.
Niamh was concluding that Pack Iryoku were something along the lines of a Mafia.
“This is their hotel.”
As Haruto opened the door for her and she hopped out, Niamh nearly broke her neck craning it back. The hotel was tall.
Like really, really bloody tall.
“How many floors does this monstrosity have?”
Haruto shot her a quiet scowl. “Forty-seven. But the hotel is two towers, not just one.”
“Oh. Still, it looks about five hundred from here.”
Kiyo settled beside her, his hand on her lower back. “Haruto’s English is excellent. Try not to call the pack’s hotel a monstrosity.”
“Oops.” Like she actually gave a damn if she insulted the man who was essentially kidnapping them.
He rolled his eyes.
Any irreverence left her, however, as the pack members surrounded them and Haruto led them inside. The lobby was humongous and decked out in all the world’s finest materials. It gleamed with expense, from the massive crystal chandeliers to the marble columns, to the antique walnut furnishings.
“This isn’t just a hotel,” Kiyo informed her as their shoes echoed off polished marble floors. “The last time I was here, there were ten restaurants, a nightclub, a casino, and even tatami suites.”
“There is more now,” Haruto informed them, looking at Kiyo over his shoulder. “Arufua-san has added much over the years. Thirteen restaurants now, one, a Michelin star. We have exhibitions, tea ceremony, and sushi-making classes, a spa … The nightclub has been replaced with a whisky degustation bar—we have the finest whiskies in the world and Chef who makes whisky-flavored food.” Haruto frowned. “Portions are small but I am told humans cannot handle larger for a six-course menu. Oh, and the casino has been expanded.”
“My goodness,” Niamh muttered, slightly amused that the somewhat tacit Haruto got chatty like a proud father talking about the hotel. “It’s like a city within a city.”
“Hai.”
“If we weren’t currently being politely held hostage, I’d love to explore it.”
Haruto grunted as Kiyo chuckled under his breath.
Niamh’s gaze flew to his face to see he was almost smiling.
“Diplomacy, Niamh. Diplomacy,” he reminded her, though he didn’t seem all that upset by her sarcasm.
They were led past a bank of elevators to the one at the end. Haruto stood in front of a panel and swiped his watch across it. The panel opened to reveal a computer screen. He pressed his thumb to it and the elevator doors opened.
He ushered them inside and only one other male wolf got on with Haruto. Niamh almost breathed a sigh of relief. Being surrounded by werewolves was not her favorite thing. Werewolves in numbers had always equaled The Garm for Niamh. The enemy.
The elevator climbed to the forty-seventh floor and when the doors opened, they didn’t open onto a corridor.
They opened to a room.
“Wow.”
They stepped out onto more polished marble floors. A wide hallway led off to the right while stairs ahead guided down into a sunken living room with hardwood floors. A bank of windows offered a view so amazing, Niamh could see the snowcapped Mount Fuji in the distance.
A glass box sat in the center of the room with flames flickering inside. It was one of the most modern fireplaces she’d ever seen.
If she wasn’t mistaken, the music filtering softly into the entire area from hidden speakers belonged to the biggest country-pop princess in the world. Not the kind of music Niamh would have guessed a powerful pack alpha might listen to.
It almost endeared her to the mystery wolf.
They passed interesting sculptures and colorful artwork that did much to break up a plethora of white paint everywhere. Velvet furniture in shades of blues and golds was scattered throughout the room. And as they wandered down into it, Niamh saw there was a stylish modern kitchen fitted at the back.
Standing at an island, chopping vegetables, was an equally stylish and beautiful woman.
Her knife stilled as her dark eyes moved past Niamh to the male at her side.
To Kiyo.