Demon slides up beside me, his golden-green eyes gleaming with a predatory light that matches the feral smile on his face. “So,” he whispers, loud enough for Dragon and Gray to hear, “how exactly are we playing this? Do we march straight into the trap as a group, or take turns walking in one by one? You know, to be sporting about it.”
Dragon shoots him a look that would make most men take a step back. Demon just widens his smile.
“If you’re not going to be helpful,” Dragon says, his voice a low rumble, “you can wait with the bikes.”
“And miss all the fun?” Demon places a hand over his heart in mock offense. “I would never.”
“We need to know what we’re walking into,” Dragon says, all business now. “Gray, scout the perimeter. See if you can get eyes inside without being seen.”
“I’ll scout the main building,” he nods, his voice barely audible.
Dragon clasps his shoulder. “Be careful. If Naomi’s in there, she’ll be expecting us.”
Gray’s mouth quirks up at one corner, the closest thing to a smile I’ve ever seen from him. “She won’t see me.” Then he’s moving, peeling away from our group and disappearing into the growing darkness, his body somehow melding with the shadows in a way that seems almost supernatural.
The rest of us spread out, keeping low as we check the perimeter. I move along the eastern edge of the compound, my eyes constantly scanning for movement, for the telltale glint of a weapon, for anything that might signal an ambush. Everything is quiet, too quiet. The absence of guards or lookouts makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. If Naomi’s expecting a shipment, where are her men?
Twenty minutes later, we reconvene behind the shipping containers. Gray is the last to return, materializing out of the darkness like he was born from it.
“Well?” Dragon asks.
“No sign of any shipment,” he reports. “No trucks, no crates, nothing that would suggest a delivery is expected. Saw two Rejects leave the main warehouse about five minutes ago. Heading toward what looks like an old office building on the west side of the property.”
Dragon’s eyes narrow. “No shipment,” he repeats. “You’re sure?”
Gray nods. “I’m sure. If there’s a shipment coming, there’s no sign of preparation for it.”
“So it’s definitely a trap,” I say, voicing what we’re all thinking.
Dragon is quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Then he says, “We should check out the warehouse those Rejects came from. That’s where Naomi will be.”
I shake my head. “If she’s expecting us to walk in there, she’ll have men positioned throughout the building. We should split up. You, me, Gray, and Demon go in with just two men. If we run into Naomi, she might think that’s all we’ve got. The rest can watch the perimeter, ready to move in if things go south.”
Dragon considers this, then nods. “Good plan. Sledge, Hammer, you’re with us. The rest of you, spread out, stay hidden, wait for my signal.”
The men nod and begin to move into position. Demon falls into step beside me, his golden-green eyes glinting with something between excitement and malice.
“So, Roman,” he says, “are you absolutely sure I can’t have the honor of putting a bullet in Naomi’s brain? I promise I’ll make it quick.” He pauses, then grins. “Well, maybe not too quick.”
I don’t look at him, keeping my eyes focused on the side entrance we’re approaching. “Not a chance in hell,” I growl.
He chuckles, the sound low and disturbing. “Worth a shot.”
Dragon gives the signal and Sledge quickly cuts through the chain-link fence with bolt cutters, creating an opening just big enough for us to slip through one at a time. We move silently across the open space between the fence and the building, sticking to the shadows as much as possible.
The side door is unlocked, which immediately sets off warning bells in my head. We pause, weapons drawn, and Gray carefully pushes the door open with the barrel of his gun. No immediate threats visible. Dragon signals for us to move in.
The interior of the warehouse is vast and eerily empty. Dust motes dance in the few shafts of moonlight streaming through broken windows high above us.
We move forward in formation, clearing each section of the main floor. There’s nothing here. No Naomi. No Rejects. Not even any evidence that they‘ve been using this place recently.
“Office space in the back,” Gray murmurs, gesturing toward a row of doors at the far end of the warehouse.
Dragon nods and we begin making our way in that direction. My pulse quickens with each step. If Naomi is here, she’ll be in those offices. If this really is a trap, it’s about to be sprung.
We’re halfway across the floor when a voice rings out, the sound bouncing off the metal walls around us.
“Well, well, well! If it isn’t my favorite group of big, bad bikers!”