Page 141 of Wilde and Deadly

Sabin pushed to his feet, stretching dramatically. “We all deserve hazard pay.”

Weston grunted as he ducked under Liam’s other arm and took most of his weight. “We don’t have time for your bullshit, Cavalier.”

“There’s always time for bullshit,” Sabin said. “That’s the secret to survival.”

Liam groaned. “I think I’d rather be unconscious.”

“Oh, hell no, you are not checking out now,” Weston said, tightening his grip on Liam as they made their way off the old subway platform. “I didn’t risk my very valuable life and pull off some bomb-diffusing magic just for you to do some dramatic fade-to-black bullshit. Walk it off, cousin.”

“Walking it off might not be the best plan.” Tessa kept a sharp eye on Liam, her grip firm on his waist. “He’s favoring his right side, and his legs are barely keeping up. If he goes down, we’re carrying him.”

Rowan took point, weapon raised, scanning every inch of the tunnels as they made their retreat. Her pulse was still too fast, her nerves still too sharp.

They didn’t stop. Didn’t breathe easy until the first gust of cold night air hit them.

The moment they reached the van, Bridger yanked the back doors open, already reaching for Liam. “Jesus, about time.”

Tessa didn’t even slow down. “Help me get him inside.”

Bridger caught Liam under the arms, hauling him into the van. Tessa climbed in right after him, already tearing open medical supplies.

Elliot paced the sidewalk, rubbing a hand over his face. When he looked up, his relief was evident—but so was his barely restrained frustration.

Rowan grabbed his arm. “Where’s Davey?”

“They’re on the bridge. Last I saw, Sullivan and Brody were throwing punches.”

She exhaled. He wasn’t safe, but he wasn’t in immediate danger. He was okay.

“I’m going back in,” she said.

“Nah,cher,” Sabin said and cocked a hip, shouldering his rifle with a grin. “Weare going back in.”

“Damn straight,” Weston said.

Elliot’s eyes snapped from one of them to the next, his expression darkening. “Like hell you are.”

Rowan met his glare, unflinching. “We’re not leaving Davey without backup.”

“Hey!” Tessa’s sharp voice cut through the argument from the back of the van as she poked a needle into Liam’s arm, starting an IV. “Liam just lost consciousness. We need to get him to the hospital now! You need to drive, El. I want Bridger back here with me in case his crashes on us.”

Elliot swore under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. He leveled one last glare at the three of them, then turned on his heel and climbed into the van. “Fine. Go. But don’t get yourselves killed. Be smart.”

Sabin grinned, slinging his rifle back into position. “Smart is my middle name.”

Weston shoved his shoulder. “Thought it was Henri.”

Rowan rolled her eyes but couldn’t entirely suppress the smile tugging at her lips. She waited until the van peeled away, then turned back to the tunnel and pulled her NVGs back into place. “Let’s move.”

She rolled her shoulders, gripping her rifle tighter, as she stepped back into the tunnel. The darkness swallowed them whole, NVGs shifting the world to an eerie green and black. The air stank of rust and damp concrete, and the old tracks running parallel to them were slick with condensation.

The air felt different down here now—heavier, wrong. The kind of quiet that didn’t just mean an absence of sound. It meant something was waiting.

Her skin prickled.

Her gut twisted.

“Heads on a swivel,” she murmured. “Something?—”

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