Page 22 of Devour

“That’s the third time in ten minutes,” I say, positioning the bag again. “Should you just see what they fucking want?”

“It’s Kynlee.” He drives his fist into the bag again. “She wants to know more about the mansion so she can pack for fucking Veronica.”

Priest snickers and then lifts the weights again. Crew stands nearby, spotting him in case he needs to assist, but we all know he won’t have to. We can all hold our own, and we’re all too stubborn to accept any help.

I just shake my head. “She’s bringing that fucking cat?”

“She made some bullshit deal with Justin fucking Carter to be his Dove, and he’s letting her bring that damn cat with her.” He hits the bag so hard the chain rattles. “That’s what my sister thinks is important right now. The cat. Not that she’s about to let that creepy fucker between her legs.”

Priest racks the bar and sits up. “Why aren’t you telling her she needs to let someone else catch her? Anyone fucking else. Crew would be better than Justin.”

Crew shoves Priest’s shoulder. “I’m not fucking Kynlee.”

He wouldn’t. Kynlee’s like a sister to Crew. Kase and Crew have been best friends since before any of us took our oath, and it’s no secret they used to pass the same women between them back then. Kase knows what’s coming once Crew claims his Dove. He’s going to get to watch, and Crew is going to let him. That’s just how they work.

To each their own, but it’s not for me. I don’t want to show off what I have. Then I’d just have to kill anyone who gets ideas about her.

“Have you met my sister?” Kase focuses on Priest. “Do you think anything I say is going to change what she’s going to do? Besides, I won’t be out in those woods with them to stop it, and Axl is going to be too busy dragging Saylor out.”

Damn right I am. I don’t want anything bad to happen to Kase’s sister, but someone is going to claim her, and there isn’t much any of us can do about it.

“Justin’s a piece of shit,” Priest says, grabbing his water bottle. “I’ve been saying it for years.”

“Nobody is arguing with you.” I shove the bag back toward Kase. I’m trying to just avoid the bastard. I haven’t even seen the fucker since our last job, which is fine by me.

Kase’s jaw tightens so hard that it clicks. He doesn’t say anything for a second. Then he hits the bag one more time—harder than any punch he’s thrown all night—and steps back.

“She thinks because he is Saylor’s brother that means she can handle him.” He steps back and peels the wraps off his hands. “That’s my sister. She thinks she can manage anyone.”

“Maybe she can,” I tell him. I don’t trust Justin on an assignment, but any of these sex-deprived fucks are a risk to Kase’s sister, and we all know it.

Kase grabs his towel and wipes his face. His phone buzzes again. He picks it up, reads the screen, and types back with his bloody fingers. “Now she wants to know if Veronica needs any special shots before she moves in. She’s acting like this is some dorm with housing paperwork. No one is going to give a shit about that goddamn cat.”

He shoves the phone in his pocket and tosses his towel to the side. “If he hurts her, I’m going to kill him. I don’t give a fuck about what the Ravens do to me after.”

If the man is willing to die for his sister, I’m not going to be the one to tell him he’s wrong. Because he’s not. If I had a sister, I wouldn’t let her anywhere near Justin Carter.

The gym door opens, and two of Dane Sinclair’s sons walk in, making us all straighten our shoulders. They don’t come around much since they married and started spending time with their wives. They used to train alongside us even though they’ve never had to serve as Talons.

Tate comes in first with a brown folder in his hand. Thorne is behind him, already pulling his shirt over his head before the door shuts. We know these men well, but the energy in the room still shifts. It always does when a member of a founding family shows up. Their power is endless.

“Priest.” Thorne nods at him and throws a punch at the nearest bag, hard enough to rattle the chain. “You look like you’re going soft since I haven’t been here to push you.”

“Let’s see what you can fucking bench,” Priest fires back. “Or do you need me to take a bit of the weight off for you?”

Thorne drops onto the bench and adjusts the bar. He starts bench pressing the weight that Priest was using. He laughs while he does it, pumping out the reps. “How many do you need me to do?”

Priest watches with his arms crossed. Thorne has proved his point.

Tate shakes his head. “If you need someone to tell you how big your dick is, brother, go home to Sloane.” Then Tate tosses the folder on the bench next to where I stand.

“What’s this?”

“That assignment you and Priest did a couple of weeks ago—it opened up something bigger. Something we’ve been looking for.” His voice is even, and his face gives me nothing. “Read and memorize this file. Only the four of you. No one else is to be brought into this unless we say otherwise.”

I pick up the folder. It’s thicker than I expected. “How big are we talking?”

“Big enough that we’re going to be personally involved in this shit, and it will go the way we say it goes.” He holds my stare. “I’m not fucking kidding.”