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“Jealousy’s got nothing to do with it,” I say, though a coil of doubt tightens in my chest. “But if you’re so concerned about the city, then why push us out?”
“Because you’re a target!” Vance shouts, and there’s a crack in his control, a splintering. “And Ais…she’s a beacon for chaos right now.”
My jaw sets hard, and I can feel the blood pounding in my temples. “We take care of our own. Me and Oberon will take care of her.”
“Ah…two men against a whole gang of bloodthirsty Eclipse gangsters, some fucking cult with a superserum, and a whole bunch of ex-ACB goons,” he mutters.
“We can handle it.” I stand up. “And I think we’re done here.”
Vance jumps to his feet, moving like he’s going to come toward me—to physically stop me. I square my shoulders and stride toward the door, preparing for a fight.
I’ll draw blood if I have to.
Vance stays put though.
“Listen to me!” His voice cuts through the air, but I’m already turning, heading for the door. “Gunnar!”
I don’t look back. I leave him standing there, words unfinished, his plea hanging in the air like smoke. The door slams shut with finality, and I’m alone in the corridor, my footsteps echoing a steady beat as I walk away.
Chapter six
Aisling
This city makes monsters of us all…even when we have the best of intentions.
The thump of bass vibrates through the walls as Oberon and I slip through the alley, our steps quick, silent. The stink of garbage and stale liquor hangs heavy, but tonight, the club is our stage and we have roles to play.
Customers—not prisoners.
Not that my stupid fight-or-flight response believes that.
I haven’t stepped foot in an active strip club since I escaped Dreamland, and my anxiety amps up as we approach the door. We’ve got a low profile—I’m in a wig and dark makeup, Oberon has grown out his hair to be messy and shaggy—but I still know we’re walking into enemy territory. We’re told the Eclipse has other things on their mind, that Oberon and I are old news…
…but I can’t let myself fall into their clutches.
Not again.
“You’re safe, Star,” Oberon murmurs, his hand at the small of my back guiding me forward. His touch is firm, reassuring—a reminder that I’ve got this huge alpha at my back, no matter what. The beat of the club pulses like a giant heart in the night, and we’re blood cells diving into its stream.
We reach the back door, a slab of metal scarred with stories better left untold. A buzz, a click, and it swings open. An Eclipse enforcer stands there, shadows playing over his face, relief evident in the way his shoulders unclench at the sight of us. He’s got reddish-blonde hair and a scruffy beard, hands shoved in his pockets, tattoos covering his neck under the long-sleeved shirt.
“Damn…you look different,” the man says, eyeing Oberon’s new look before his gaze lands on me. “And you must be Aisling.”
“And you’re Roman?” I ask. “I mean…I hope so, because I was hoping we wouldn’t be recognized—”
“Yeah, this is him,” Oberon says with a small smile. “It’s good to see you, man.”
“Good to see you, too,” Roman replies. “Figured you for dead after everything went down with the Rossis.”
“I should have been, if this girl hadn’t pulled me out of the grave and made me a new man.” Oberon squeezes my hip, and I flash him a reassuring smile. “So…you said you had information?”
“Yeah,” Roman says. “And one of the girls here wants to talk to you.”
“There’s no time to waste then,” I say, offering him a tight smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. We don’t have time for pleasantries; there are omegas in trouble, a ticking clock I can almost hear.
“Things are getting twisted inside,” Roman confides, voice barely above the music’s roar. He looks over his shoulder like he can see through walls, through flesh, straight to the rot at the club’s core. “I don’t know what they’re planning, but it’s nothing good. For what it’s worth, though, I checked for any of Caius Rossi’s loyal goons and it looks like the coast is clear.”
“Let’s not keep them waiting then,” I say.
