Page 37 of Claimed By the Band

"He'll be here," Damon says, though I'm not sure if he's trying to reassure Asher or himself.

I find myself hoping he's right. As much as I hate relying on some mysterious hacker we barely know, Echo—or "Alex," which I'm sure isn't his real name either—is our best shot at figuring out who's behind these attacks.

Knox emerges from the back, looking ready for war in all black. At least he's taking this seriously.

"You sure he knows where to meet us?" Damon asks, voicing the concern we're all thinking.

Asher nods emphatically. "I sent him our exact location. GPS coordinates and everything." He pauses, chewing his lower lip. "Plus a picture of the bus. And a description of the parking lot. And?—"

"We get it," Knox cuts him off, but there's a hint of fondness in his gruff tone. "You're thorough."

I catch Dante's eye across the bus, sharing a knowing look. We're all aware of how much Asher wants this to work out, and not just for the investigation. There's something about Echo that's gotten under his skin in a way I haven't seen before.

The thought makes my chest tight with an emotion I can't quite name. It's not jealousy—we've always been open about Asher's needs, his attraction to other omegas. But this feels different. Dangerous. And not just because Echo is the first beta he's ever shown an interest in.

"Maybe we should call him," Dante suggests, breaking through my brooding thoughts.

Asher shakes his head. "He hates phone calls."

"Of course he does," I mutter, earning myself an exasperated look from our omega.

"Be nice," Asher warns, but there's a playful glint in his violet eyes. "He's doing us a huge favor, remember?"

I'm about to point out that we don't actually know what his motives are when a sharp knock at the door makes us all freeze.

Here we go.

14

JORDAN

Ifidget with my collar as the city bus lurches to a stop. The parking lot where Wild Honey's tour bus waits is just ahead, and my stomach is doing somersaults. I tell myself it's just nerves about infiltrating PheroMaster, about the risks we're taking. But deep down, I know that's not entirely true.

I smooth down my gray slacks for the hundredth time, tugging at the hem of my navy sweater. The jacket I bought from a nearby thrift store just for the occasion feels stiff and uncomfortable. Everything about this outfit feels wrong, but it's the nicest "business casual" I could manage on short notice. PheroMaster is supposedly a high-end boutique, after all. My usual jeans and sweats won't cut it.

The walk from the bus stop feels like a death march. I chose public transportation because it's harder to trace than a rental car, but now I'm regretting not having an easy escape route.

When I reach the tour bus, I take a deep breath before knocking. The door swings open almost immediately, and there's Asher,practically vibrating with excitement. But his brilliant smile falters as he takes in my appearance.

"Oh," he says, violet eyes widening. "You're wearing... that?"

Heat creeps up my neck. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Nothing!" he says quickly, holding up his hands. "It's very... librarian who's about to stumble upon a passage leading to eldritch horrors. And it works for you! But… maybe something else for PheroMaster?"

I glance down at my outfit, then back up at him, and suddenly I understand his concern. He's wearing that emerald green shirt that makes his eyes pop, paired with sinfully tight black pants. He looks like sex on legs, while I look like... well, like a nerd.

And Iama nerd. But tonight, I'm supposed to be a member of the most eligible pack in the entire country. A pack of literal rock stars.

"I..." I start, but before I can finish, he's grabbing my hand and pulling me up into the bus.

"No matter," he chirps. "We'll find you something perfect to wear. Come in, come in! Our casa on wheels is su casa on wheels. Literally, if you change your mind about doing this the boring way and working separately."

The interior of the tour bus is massive, more like a luxury apartment than any vehicle I've ever been in. The alphas are scattered around what appears to be a living room area, all looking sharp in various shades of black. And they're all wearing suits. Even Damon, who looks like he'd rather die than wear a tie. Knox and Silas eye me with the same wariness from our bar meeting, while Dante offers a friendly but cautious wave.

"Have a seat," Asher insists, pushing me down onto a plush leather couch. "Damon, get our guest a drink while I find something more suitable for him to wear."

Damon approaches with an easy smile. "Beer?"

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