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Turning to face my teammates, I can’t bite back the slow curl of an anticipatory smile from tugging at the corners of my mouth.

“You boys want to go on a field trip?”

Three hours later, we’re pulling up to a middle-class home in a cul-de-sac. The houses are all cookie-cutter versions of each other—single story, white trim, two-car garage, fenced-in-backyard. It’s exactly where I’d hide if I were a world-renowned geneticist being bankrolled by a megalomaniac to inject trafficked Omegas with someone or something else’s blood.

How the fuck did he go from telling the Ethics Board to eat shit in order to save a dying kid to working for Jonathan fucking Varenthrall?

“You want to just ring the doorbell, or should we go in like SWAT?” Vae asks, and his tone makes it clear he’s being serious.

I turn off the ignition to the Suburban, lean over, and smack him across the back of the head. “How is it I’m the one who always gets stuck behind a monitor as your eyes in the sky, and you’re the one sent on the important field missions, when you ask such stupid questions?”

“I mean… that’s exactly why you stay behind. So I can get answers to my stupid questions when I’m on a mission.” He smiles and pops his gum.

I clench my hand into a fist instead of doing what I want—shove my fingers in his mouth, rip out the gum, and pitch it into the street.

He’s been like this for days. Ramping up the funny guy act, going out of his way to distract me or make me laugh.

I know what he’s doing—trying to get us both through this shit with Caelan without unraveling—and I appreciate it, I really do.

It’s also annoying the shit out of me.

Vae believes he needs to be the one who holds us together. He thinks it’s his job to keep us both from falling apart, but he’s wrong. He doesn’t need to carry this on his own. We’re a pack, and that means we carry this shit together.

Always have.

Caelan isn’t getting worse, and Calder said his body is slowly repairing itself. Vae and I spend most of our free time in the medical wing, just sitting with him. Soon, hopefully, he’ll wake up, and we’ll be back in the field together—all three of us. And things can finally go back to normal.

“Both of you, just be quiet and follow my lead.” I check my weapons as I climb out of the SUV.

“Ford usually lets me—” Silas starts, but I cut him off with a low growl.

“Ford’s not here, and Ford isn’t your superior. I am.”

“Copy that, Colonel Crankyballs… damn,” he mutters under his breath. Vae snorts a laugh, and I have to turn my head so Silas won’t see my smile.

It’s a quiet, cool night, still relatively early in the late Spring for the East Coast. Most people have their porch lights on, but by this time of night, everyone’s asleep. Or should be.

“Do you smell that?” Vae asks once we get to the front door.

“Smells like nothing,” Silas notes.

“Right, like this place has been abandoned for a while.” Vae jiggles the front door handle, but it doesn’t budge.

“Gonna go old school here,” I crack open my lock-picking kit and within seconds, the door’s swinging open.

Both Alphas follow me in, and I wait for the lock to catch before making my way down the narrow hall.

“I checked for security before we came,” I remind them. “I don’t know what it is about Varenthrall that makes him think he’s above basic security measures. Who the fuck hires a private security company but doesn’t bother with sensor alarms? Or hides a doctor in suburbia but doesn’t spring for a fucking Ring doorbell.”

“You’re sure we’re dealing with Varenthrall?” Vae asks, dragging a finger along the dusty fireplace mantle.

“Almost surely. We found the blood in his study. It’s a Fates-damned scientific miracle, and a doctor who was one of the most well-known geneticists in the country just happened to run tests on the exact same blood and upload it to a privately encrypted server. This is the same guy who was ostracized by the scientific community and hasn’t worked in the past decade. ”

I spin in a slow circle, gesturing to encompass the entire house. “But somehow, all his bills are covered through some secret offshore account?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Vae hums, picking up a photo of a beaming Albertson proudly displaying a huge bass in both hands. Vae snorts and sets it back down. “Old white men, am I right?”

I can hear Silas in the kitchen, opening and closing drawers. I let him be and continue down the hallway, checking the doors along the way. All the rooms are empty until I get to the master bedroom at the end, which looks normal enough. There’s a queen-size bed, dresser, nightstand, TV—all the usual single-man shit.