Page 123 of Wilde and Deadly

Daphne nodded. “That’s where you’re going.”

The room snapped into action.

Bridger turned on his heel, already reaching for his rifle. “I’ll drive.”

“Finally.” Dom grabbed extra mags from the table, practically vibrating with energy. “Let’s move.”

Sabin grabbed his rifle, grinning. “Gonna be a real shame if Brody’s face accidentally meets my fist.”

Celeste popped the lollipop from her mouth and grinned. “Better make sure it happens at least twice.”

Mags snapped into place, the metallic clicks crisp and certain.

Velcro ripped as vests were tightened.

Weapons slid from their holsters, checked, loaded, secured.

Boots scuffed against the floor as the team shifted, tension crackling like a live wire.

Daphne met Davey’s gaze. “Go. I’ll keep the audio live.”

He grabbed her in a quick hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re a genius.” He did the same to Celeste. “You both are.”

Celeste crunched down on her lollipop. “I know. But I never get tired of hearing it.” She bumped her shoulder against Daphne’s. “Now go raise some hell.”

“Copy that.” He turned, locking eyes with Bridger, Dom, Elliot, Sabin, Cade, and finally, Rowan. He took the rifle she held out to him, chambered a round, and nodded once. “Let’s bring our cousin home.”

thirty-two

The tunnels smelled like rot,metal, and old piss—a stench that clung to the back of Davey’s throat, acrid and suffocating. The air was thick with damp decay, the kind that settled in places forgotten by time. He adjusted his grip on his rifle, sweeping the darkness ahead as he led the team down the crumbling maintenance stairwell and onto the narrow concrete walkway running parallel to the rusted tracks below.

Every step sent tiny puffs of dust spiraling into the air, settling in his lungs like cement. Rats scattered at their approach, claws skittering against stone, their sleek bodies vanishing into the cracks and debris.

Somewhere overhead, the distant, muffled rumble of a train vibrated through the steel and stone, making the walls shudder slightly. A reminder that even down here, buried beneath the city, the world kept moving.

They moved in tight formation, weapons up, eyes scanning. The space was pitch-black, the only illumination coming from their night vision glasses, casting the world in crisp, high-contrast green and gray. No grain, no distortion. The enhanced optics rendered every detail with sharp precision.

Davey took point.

Rowan was just behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know exactly where she was. Her footfalls were measured, deliberate, perfectly in sync with his own. Never too far, never too exposed.

A quiet presence at his back, steady as a heartbeat.

It should’ve reassured him.

Instead, it made something in his chest tighten.

She shouldn’t be here.

He knew better than to think that. Rowan was more than capable. She was fast, lethal, trained for this, just like the rest of them. But knowing it didn’t change the way his gut twisted at the thought of something going wrong, of turning around and?—

He cut the thought off before it could settle.

She was here. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it except trust her to watch his back the same way he watched hers.

Even if he did want to swaddle her in bubble wrap and send her back to HQ where she’d be safe.

Sabin moved smoothly behind them, spraying ultraviolet markers along the tunnel walls—tags invisible to the naked eye but glowing faintly in their NVG filters. Breadcrumbs leading home. Not that it would matter if things went to hell.

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