His eyes stayed fixed on the storm beyond the shattered barn doors.
Watching.
Calculating.
Predator recognizing predator.
The voice continued:
“You have property belonging to Senator Mercer.”
Wolf muttered darkly, “Funny. Pretty sure trafficking kids makes you lose ownership privileges.”
No answer came immediately.
Then—
the man outside laughed softly.
And every hair on my arms stood up.
Not loud.
Not crazy.
Controlled.
Cold.
The kind of laugh that said human life meant absolutely nothing to him.
I pressed closer to Hersh's side unconsciously.
I wrapped an arm around her instantly.
Rook finally spoke.
“Who am I talking to?”
Lightning flashed outside.
For half a second, I caught movement beyond the broken doorway.
Tall figure.
Black tactical gear.
Standing perfectly still in the rain.
Then darkness swallowed him again.
“You may call me Shepherd,” the voice replied.
Trigger cursed softly under his breath.
Rook’s expression hardened.
Apparently he recognized the name.
