Irene’s boots hit the wet concrete with a thud as she sprinted down the alley. Her breath came fast, her heart louder than her footsteps. Neon signs blinked above, like the city was trying to warn her in code. West tunnel. Midnight. Alone.Yeah, sure. No big deal.She didn’t even stop to think—well, maybe for like one second—but the idea of Davion being moved somewhere off-grid? Somewhere they’d never find him again? She couldn’t risk it.Rainwater splashed up her jeans as she cut across the street. Her phone buzzed in her pocket again, but she ignored it. Probably Reika. Or Beverly. Or one of the others trying to talk her down.Too late.She reached the mouth of the west tunnel five minutes early. It stretched out in front of her like the throat of some giant beast. Quiet. Empty. Creepy as hell.Irene pulled her hoodie tighter over her head and stepped inside.“Great,” she muttered. “Definitely the perfect place to get murdered.”Her footsteps echoed. It smelled like rust and wet con

Davion’s wrists had gone completely numb.The cuffs were too tight, digging into his skin. The van rattled with every bump, and the silence inside it was worse than the cold air. The two guards up front hadn’t spoken since they shoved him in the back like cargo. No words. No explanation. No rights read.This wasn’t a normal arrest.There were no police markings on their uniforms, no badge numbers, no identification of any kind. Just black gear, black visors, and eyes like dead glass.Wherever they were taking him—it wasn’t to a precinct.Davion leaned back against the freezing metal wall and shut his eyes. Beverly. Reika. Irene. He prayed someone knew. Someone had to know.Please let them be coming.“ETA ten minutes,” one of the guards said into his earpiece, voice low and clipped.Davion’s eyes snapped open.Ten minutes? Ten minutes to what?“Off-grid facility confirmed. Clearance has been authorized.”His heart pounded harder in his chest. Off-grid facility? That didn’t sound like s

The warehouse was quiet—too quiet.Davion stepped through the back entrance, boot soles crunching against broken glass. The moonlight filtered through the high windows in sharp silver streaks, throwing shadows across abandoned crates and twisted metal. Irene followed close behind, a blade tucked into her belt and suspicion carved into every movement.“Where’s Reika?” Irene whispered.Davion scanned the floor. “She was supposed to meet us here.”“She’s late,” Irene said. “She’s never late.”They reached the center of the room, where a makeshift table had been set up—a map spread across it with red circles marking Reaper’s known locations.Davion’s eyes narrowed. Something was off.“Did you hear that?” Irene asked, fingers curling around her blade.A soft click echoed from above.Davion spun toward the noise, but it was already too late.Lights flooded the warehouse, blinding and sudden.“Drop your weapons,” a voice called out, too familiar to ignore.Irene froze.Davion turned slowly—h

this part—the waiting.He stood at the edge of the rooftop, hoodie pulled over his head, hands gripping the cold rusted railing. Down below, the warehouse glowed dimly, like a sleeping beast. Two guards paced the perimeter, rifles slung low. Too relaxed. Too cocky.Rami was crouched beside him, earbuds in, chewing gum like it owed him money. “We’re really doing this?”Davion didn’t look away from the warehouse. “Too late to back out now.”“Wasn’t planning to.” Rami spit his gum into a wrapper and tucked it in his pocket. “Just checking if we’ve officially lost our minds.”“We lost those the moment we let Irene make the plan,” Davion muttered, almost smiling.“Hey, I heard that.” Irene’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “And you’re welcome.”“Are you in position?” Davion asked.“Front entrance. Disguised as a security tech. If this fails, I’m blaming both of you and haunting your dreams.”Rami rolled his eyes. “You already haunt my dreams.”“Focus,” Davion said, pulling his mask up

Davion hated waiting.Especially like this—pressed against damp concrete behind a broken wall in an abandoned lot that reeked of rust and rat piss. The night buzzed around him, every sound amplified. Irene crouched beside him, her breath steady even if her fingers tapped a jittery rhythm against her thigh. Rami was scanning their six, earpiece in, eyes sharp.They were two blocks from the warehouse Reaper’s crew used as a trafficking hub. No guards outside—classic trap move. Which meant they had maybe five minutes before things went sideways.“Ready?” Irene whispered.Davion exhaled slowly. “As I’ll ever be.”Rami chuckled low. “You know, it’s not too late to fake our deaths and start a new life selling coconut water on a beach somewhere.”“No beaches,” Irene muttered. “Too many happy couples.”“Wow. Who hurt you?” Rami teased, aiming a soft elbow her way.Irene rolled her eyes. “Focus, Romeo.”Davion signaled. “Let’s move.”They crept through the alley, using the shadows like second