Page 25 of Claimed By the Band

Asher goes pale. "What did he say?"

Knox just mutters, "Good riddance. He's useless anyway."

I stare at the screen, not quite believing what I'm seeing. Finally, I clear my throat and read it aloud.

ECHO: Fine. Meet me here tomorrow at 3 PM.

And then, a moment later, an address pops up. A bar about an hour away from our next tour stop.

"Holy shit," Asher breathes.

Knox's smug grin is insufferable. "See? Sometimes you just gotta apply a little pressure."

I want to argue, to point out how incredibly stupid and reckless this was. But I can't deny the results.

After a week of cryptic messages and dead ends, we're finally going to meet Echo face to face.

10

JORDAN

My stomach churns as I stare out the airplane window, watching wispy clouds drift by far below. What the hell am I doing? This goes against every rule I've set for myself over the past nine years. No face-to-face meetings. No real names. No personal connections.

And yet here I am, flying halfway across the country to meet a pack of alpha rock stars and their omega frontman.

But the fact that the people who attacked Asher are going after other targets now is proof that this shit goes even deeper than I thought.

I've been dealing with assholes like this for years. It's what I do. But this is the first time I've encountered any group quite as bold as this. Or as organized.

It's possible it's just a copycat of the first attack. The police evacuated Rita Dawson's venue before anyone could make good on the threat, but if it's not…

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. The recycled air of the plane cabin fills my lungs, tinged with the scent of stale coffee and too many bodies crammed into too small a space. Even with the suppressants, being crowded by this many alphas and omegas makes my head spin and my nerves prickle.

At least I managed to snag an aisle seat near the back. Less chance of anyone paying attention to me.

Not that they would anyway. I made sure of that.

My hand drifts to my chest, feeling the familiar pressure of the binder beneath my baggy sweatshirt. The short, nondescript haircut. The complete lack of makeup or any other feminine touches. To anyone looking, I'm just another unremarkable beta male on a business trip.

The perfect disguise. The perfect lie.

But for how much longer?

I pull out my phone, scrolling through the messages from Asher one more time.

His enthusiasm is palpable even through text, a one-eighty from the blunt message that convinced me to make the trip. Back to exclamation points and smiley face emojis.

I'm starting to think he's got multiple personalities. It would be endearing if it wasn't so terrifying.

ASHER: Can't wait to finally meet you in person, Echo! The pack is so excited. We owe you big time for agreeing to this.

I snort softly. They have no idea.

ASHER: Let us know when your flight gets in and we'll send a car. Or I could come pick you up myself if you want.

I type out a quick reply, keeping it professional and distant.

Landing at 2. Will take a cab to the meeting spot. See you at 3.

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