Page 24 of Claimed By the Band

I watch Asher carefully, waiting for the inevitable outburst. The fire that always blazes in those violet eyes when someone suggests we back down. But it doesn't come. He just sits there, shoulders slumped, gaze fixed on some distant point. The silence stretches, uncomfortable and heavy.

This isn't right. This isn't our Asher.

I open my mouth to say something, anything to break this eerie quiet, but before I can, Asher's phone buzzes. The change is instant. He perks up, fumbling for the device with an eagerness I haven't seen since before the attack.

"Who is it?" Silas asks, leaning forward.

A ghost of Asher's usual smile flickers across his face. "It's Echo."

I can't help myself. I lean over, peering at the screen. The message is brief, but it seems more human than the rest of his messages have.

ECHO: I heard about the threat against Rita Dawson and the evac order on your show. You guys ok?

Knox grunts from across the aisle. "Well, at least he's keeping up with shit. So far, I was convinced the asshole was just slacking off."

Asher's hastily types out a reply, but he pauses long enough to shoot Knox a reproachful look. "We're not paying him, remember?"

Another grunt from Knox. I swear, sometimes I think the guy communicates solely in grunts and glares. Maybe he's the missing link.

"What are you telling him?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

But before Asher can answer, Knox is there, snatching the phone out of his hands with a speed that belies his size.

"I'vegot something to say to this guy," he growls, typing out a clearly livid message.

Asher's eyes go wide. "Knox, don't?—"

Too late. Knox's thumb hits send, and Asher lets out a strangled sound that's half frustration, half panic as he dives over the sofa.

"What the fuck did you do?" he demands, making a grab for the phone. But Knox holds it out of reach, a grim satisfaction on his face.

"Just told him what needed to be said."

Asher gets livid, snatching the phone out of Knox's hand. He's stronger than he looks, and he's already pretty damn tough for an omega. "You asshole! You're going to scare him off!"

When he sees what's on the screen, that vein in his forehead gets more visible. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Knox!"

"Now you're in trouble!" Dante calls in a singsong from the sofa across the tour bus living room.

Knox flips him off, but we all know he's not wrong.

Silas should be eating up the fact that Knox is the one in the hot seat, and the fact that he's not speaks volumes to how on edge we all are right now.

"Let me see," I say, holding out my hand.

Asher thrusts the phone into my palm, digging his hands into his golden locks as he stalks across the bus, muttering obscenities that would make a sailor blush.

I read the message, my eyebrows climbing higher with each word.

We've been doing things your way for a week and those assholes are still hurting people. So we can put our necks on the line, but you can't even show your face?

Holy shit, Knox.

Way to antagonize our only lead.

I look up, ready to lay into him myself, but the argument dies in my throat as the phone buzzes in my hand. We all freeze, staring at the device like it might explode.

"He wrote back," I say, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.

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