Page 44 of Claimed By the Band

"I could ask you the same thing," he says, his voice steady despite the slight tremor in his hands. "Shouldn't you be with the others?"

I cross my arms, fixing him with my best intimidating stare. It's the one that usually has even the toughest roadies quaking in their boots. Echo, to his credit, doesn't flinch.

"Asher wanted me to keep an eye on you," I say. "What are you looking for?"

Echo hesitates, clearly weighing his options. Finally, he sighs. "Anything, really. Something that looks out of place. A client log, financial records, anything that might link them to the attack on your concert."

I nod, scanning the hallway for security cameras. "Alright. I'll keep watch. You do... whatever it is you do."

A ghost of a smile flickers across Echo's face. "Thanks."

We work in silence for a few minutes, Echo examining every inch of the hallway while I keep an ear out for approaching footsteps. It's strange, working with someone outside the pack like this. But there's an efficiency to Echo's movements that I can appreciate as he dips into a nearby office that's propped open.

"So," I say, keeping my voice low. "How'd you end up doing... this?" I gesture vaguely at him through the door, encompassing the whole hacker-vigilante thing he's got going on.

Echo tenses, his shoulders going rigid as he pores over the files on a surprisingly mundane desk, considering it exists in this clusterfuck. For a moment, I think he's not going to answer. But then he lets out a soft huff of laughter, bitter and resigned.

"Would you believe me if I said I fell into it by accident?" he asks, not looking up from the lock he's examining on the desk drawer. He pulls out what looks like a Swiss army knife and pops a long, narrow tool out of it. The lock gives in an instant and he starts rummaging around in the drawer.

I snort. "After seeing that? Not a chance."

"Smart man." Echo straightens, meeting my eyes for the first time since we started talking. When I first met him, I assumed he was about twenty. Way too young for someone doing this shit for as long as he must have been to be as good as he is, but there's a world weariness in his gaze that makes me second guess that. "Let's just say I had a unique skill set. And a vendetta against shitty alphas. This seemed like a good way to channel both."

It's more than he's revealed about himself since we met, but it still leaves me with more questions than answers. Before I can press further, Echo brushes past me and out into the hall.

"Nothing in that office. Might as well try this," he murmurs, moving toward a door markedstorage. He reaches for the handle, frowning when it doesn't budge. "Damn. Locked."

I'm about to suggest we move on when Echo pulls out the lock pick set again.

"That thing's pretty handy," I muse.

Echo grins, a flash of genuine amusement breaking through his careful mask. "Never leave home without it."

I shake my head, torn between admiration and concern. "Are you a hacker or a secret agent?"

"I'm whatever I need to be to get the job done," Echo says, already working on the lock.

I keep watch, hyper-aware of every sound. We're pushing our luck, staying in one place this long. But if there's even a chance of finding something incriminating...

The sound of approaching footsteps sends a jolt of adrenaline through me. Echo tenses, his hands freezing on the lock picks.

"Shit," he breathes, panic clear in his voice.

I don't think. I just act.

In one fluid motion, I grab Echo by the shoulders and spin him around, pressing him against the wall. He lets out a startled yelp, eyes wide with confusion and fear, but it's the rage in them that catches me off guard. He tenses up like he's about to fight, that lock pick now brandished in his hand like a deadly weapon.

"What the fu?—"

"Just go with it," I growl, threading my fingers through his hair like I'm about to kiss him.

Echo's eyes somehow get even wider, but he doesn't push me away. Either he's realized I'm staging something to save our asses, or he's just stunned.

The footsteps round the corner, and I hear Vince's oily voice. "And here we have—oh."

I freeze, and so do my packmates behind Vince. Damn, I hope it's obvious to Asher what I'm doing, but he doesn't look pissed or hurt. If anything, there's amusement in his eyes once the surprise fades.

I step back from Echo, schooling my features into what I hope is a convincing mix of embarrassment and arousal. "Sorry," I say, forcing out an awkward laugh. "Got a little carried away with all the pheromones in the air. Thought this was a more... private corner."

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