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Once Beverly, Jag, Elliot, Moe, and I broke out, we’d need backup to handle Ram when he inevitably turned on us. And Juniper needed to know that her mortal enemy would soon be on the loose in her town. She probably had enough friends here that she could raise a small army to confront him.
But first, she had to know he was coming.
I texted for the thirty-seventh time and dialed again.You’re in danger, Juniper, please, please answer.
“You’ve reached Juniper of The Magical Rooster, North America’s—”
I hung up and nearly threw the phone against the concrete wall.
My stomach twisted. What if Ram had already sent his people after Juniper? After all, he must have known I’d call her with the cellphone he gave me. What if Juniper was hurt? Kidnapped?
Probably not dead. I doubted the remnants of our old gang had enough power to kill her unless they had gotten their hands on some of the magical relics she had been stupidly handing out all over the world.
Fuck!
Metal clinked on metal at my cell door. Ram had hidden a lockpick set behind a loose brick in the yard wall. He had assumed I knew how to pick locks without magic.
I didn’t, but someone else possessed the skill…
The door was pulled open, and Moe grinned at me in the dim light from the corridor. His smile was wide and big, like this was the best moment of his life so far. He waved.
“Hi.”
“Huh, so your magician training paid off,” I whispered.
Somehow, he grinned even wider. “If I can pick three locks while chained underwater, I can pick anything.”
I was pretty sure magicians used fake, trick locks but apparently, Moe was too honest for that. I clapped his shoulder.
“That was very clever.”
He wiggled a little. “Aww, shucks.”
He patted my hand on his shoulder, and his touch sent a tremor up my arm. I couldn’t help but smile.
I glanced past him to Jag and Elliot, who carried Beverly between them—beavers didn’t walk fast enough for a prison escape. She didn’t struggle or talk as though she knew what we were doing.
I checked my phone. Shit. We had five minutes until the guards started watching the cameras again.
“This way,” I whispered, and led them down the corridor to Ram’s cell. I gestured at Moe to unlock the door, and he dropped to one knee, unfurling his roll of picks on the floor next to him.
Beverly grunted softly as Jag shuffled close to me. “Who are we freeing?”
My heart clenched like an ass holding in a fart in public. “If I don’t break him out, he’s going to hurt my friend.” And he will probably hurt her even if I do free him.
Jag’s eyes narrowed. “Alyssa, no…”
The lock clicked, and Moe stuffed his lockpicks in his sock before standing and pulling the door open. Ram strolled out with a smug grin that made me want to wring his fucking neck. He had won, and he knew it.
He didn’t say a word but simply nodded as though to saylet’s go.
“Moe,” Jag whispered. As the other man rushed to his side, Jag handed Beverly’s ass to him and then glared at Ram with a cold, simmering rage.
Good. I wasn’t the only one keeping tabs on Ram.
I led the way down a flight of metal steps to the main floor of the prison. With each step, my anxiety grew. I had broken into and out of strongholds across the world. I had stolen multiple magical relics from the backrooms of the British Museum and the Brits had yet to notice. I had robbed covens and werewolf packs and even a mermaid city at the bottom of the ocean.
But tonight, in this backwater, basic-ass prison, I had no fucking clue what I was doing.
