Tyr went still, his helmet forgotten in his hands as the implications sank in. He remembered now - the whispered conversations, the rumors that had circulated through supernatural circles about the twin clouded leopard shifter women who had been raised by rogues.
"She'd been engaged to some normal human guy while they were in college. Their sisters - the other ones, not Naomi - drugged her and killed the guy while they slept. Set it up to make Beth think she'd done it in some kind of rogue frenzy." Tobi's face hardened. "She got locked up in that Sanctuary place - the compound for shifter criminals - until Liam and Naomi figured out what really happened."
"Man, that's fucked up." Tyr ran a hand through his hair. "And people think vampires are sick and twisted!"
"People don't know about vampires, remember?" Tobi snickered.
"Yeah, yeah. Just sayin'."
Everything crystallized with brutal clarity - her wariness, the need for open windows, the way trauma clung to her scent like smoke. Rage burned through him, primitive and fierce. His hands clenched around the helmet as the urge to hunt down her tormentors clawed at his chest. But that wasn't his place. His job was to make her feel safe in her home. He could do that much at least.
Tyr'sprotective thoughts scattered as Tobi's phone chimed with an incoming text. His twin pulled out the device, the screen's glow illuminating his face in the darkness.
"Joe needs us at the warehouse." Tobi glanced up from his phone. "Says they've got some questions about the renovation."
"Race you there." Tyr's lips curved into a challenging grin. The familiar spark of competition with his brother pushed aside his brooding thoughts about Beth. "Loser buys breakfast at that diner on Main Street."
"You're on!" Tobi shouted as he jammed his helmet over his head.
Tyr barely got his own helmet secured before gunning his bike's engine. The powerful machine roared to life beneath him, vibrating with barely contained energy. Twin motorcycles peeled away from the curb in perfect sync, their riders leaning into the first turn as one.
The night blurred around them as they raced through the streets, engines growling in competition. Tyr hunched low over his handlebars, the wind buffeting his jacket as he pushed his custom machine to its limits. Tobi's headlight remained stubbornly present in his peripheral vision, neither brother willing to concede an inch. They weaved through the sparse late-night traffic, taking corners with practiced precision, their motorcycles extensions of their bodies after decades of riding.
The warehouse materialized ahead, its industrial silhouette cutting against the night sky. With a final burst of speed, Tyr edged ahead on the final stretch, his front wheel crossing the invisible finish line a fraction of a second before his brother's.
Tyr killed the engine, satisfaction thrumming through him as he pulled off his helmet. He'd beaten Tobi by mere inches, but a win was a win. The old warehouse loomed before them, its weathered brick glowing warmly under the harsh construction lights.
"Breakfast is on you," he called out as Tobi rolled to a stop beside him.
His twin grumbled good-naturedly while dismounting. "Lucky break with that delivery truck. You'd have eaten my dust otherwise."
"Keep telling yourself that."
Tobi flipped the kickstand down with his boot, fair hair catching the harsh construction lights. "Besides, we're vampires. We don't eat, remember?"
"It's the principle of the thing," Tyr snickered. He ran an appreciative hand over his bike's sleek frame. The custommachine purred like a dream, every modification perfectly tuned.
Their reputation for building exceptional motorcycles had grown steadily over the decades. When Lord Damien asked for volunteers to come up here, Tyr and his brother had jumped at the opportunity to expand their business from the cramped quarters they'd had in New York City. This warehouse offered endless potential for their custom motorcycle operation on the ground floor. The two upper floors were being converted into apartments, with steel-shuttered windows making them safe for vampires. As an additional precaution, hidden passages would lead down to a secure bunker in the basement. None of those extra modifications would show in any blueprints, as the construction company was owned by the local alpha wolf shifter, and the entire construction crew was made up of shifters.
Tyr followed his brother into the warehouse, their boots echoing on the concrete floor. Joe Malloy's tall frame emerged from the shadows near the back office, blueprints rolled under his arm.
"Evening, Tobi, Tyr." The alpha wolf's deep voice carried across the space. "Got someone I want you to meet."
A stocky man with salt-and-pepper hair stepped out behind Joe. His weathered face spoke of years working construction sites.
"Alex Metaxas, my foreman." Joe clapped the man on the shoulder. "He'll be your go-to if I'm tied up with pack business. His wife, Lydia, is the manager at Carter's Bank. I expect you've heard they're going public as shifter friendly, next month."
Tyr exchanged quick handshakes with Alex, noting the man's firm grip and steady gaze.
"We need to prioritize the living quarters and bunker," Tyr said, examining the blueprints as Joe spread them across a makeshift table. "The bike shop can wait."
Tobi nodded in agreement. "More vamps are coming up from the city next month. We're going to all need somewhere secure to stay."
"Not a problem." Alex traced a finger along the upper floor plans. "We can focus the crew on the apartments first, then tackle the bunker while the finishing work's being done upstairs."
"The bunker needs to be absolutely secure," Tyr emphasized. "And completely off the official plans."
Joe's eyes gleamed with understanding. "Alex knows how to keep things quiet. We've been handling special projects for the pack for years."
