Page 134 of Spinner's Luck

The air was thick with the scent of coffee, the low murmur of voices filling the room.

And then I saw them.

Four men and one woman—new faces, all radiating intensity and purpose.

Spinner’s hand settled low on my back as we approached, his voice gruff but relaxed. “I’ll introduce you.”

Devil stood near the bar, arms crossed, eyes sharp as he watched us come in. “Luck, you doin’ okay this mornin’?”

I hesitated for a second. Devil wasn’t the type to ask questions he didn’t need answers to.

“Yeah,” I replied, surprised he even gave a shit.

I barely had time to process it before one of the men stepped forward.

The first thing I noticed was his ridiculous height. The second was the cocky smirk.

“Wrath,” he introduced himself, his deep voice dripping with amusement. “Before you ask, yeah, I got the name ‘cause I’m deadly. But also ‘cause I drive women to madness.”

I snorted. “That so?”

“Oh yeah, sweetheart.” His grin widened. “You ever get bored of this one”—he nodded at Spinner—“you just let me know.”

Spinner growled.

Wrath just laughed.

“Jesus,” another man muttered, shaking his head. His voice was calm, controlled, but there was a hardness in his dark eyes that said he wasn’t one to mess with. He had that military look about him—sharp, disciplined, unreadable.

“This is Soldier,” Spinner said. Soldier just nodded, already moving on to the next thing in his head.

Then the third guy, standing slightly behind them, grinned lazily, rocking back on his heels. “And I’m Snipe. I shoot things. Usually with bullets. Sometimes whiskey.”

I liked him already.

Spinner gestured to the last guy, the one who looked out of place with his glasses and bookish appearance. “And this is Kickstand.”

Before I could respond, my attention snapped to the woman standing just behind them.

Dirty blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, sharp green eyes, a casual hoodie and jeans—pregnant, by the look of it.

She studied me for a second, then stepped forward. “Hi, Lucy. I’m Jaycee. I hear we have the same mission—just different approaches.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I thought you were gonna wait to talk about that, Nightingale,” Kickstand muttered.

My breath caught. “Nightingale?”

I turned back to her, my mind racing. “You’re Nightingale?”

Jaycee’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. “You know me?”

I took a stunned step forward. “Yeah—me and my friend know your work. He’s Oliver Twist.”

Jaycee’s eyes lit up with recognition. “What a small world,” she murmured before taking my hands in hers. “We’ve been working together and now we are together. Where’s Oliver?”

My heart thudded.

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