Page 27 of Nocturne
“Grace and Emma,” O’Connor’s voice cuts through — firm, polished, but loaded with authority. They catch the hint right away and stand up, ready to update the team on what they pulled from the drive Hunter found in the warehouse after the race.
Emma’s rocking tight black pants and a plain white tee, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail that almost falls off her shoulder, her freckled skin adding to her charm. Her clear eyes scan the room as she walks to the back and clicks on the projector hanging from the ceiling. On the whiteboard, a laptop tab pops up — Grace had been holding the laptop on her lap but now it’s set on the table, waiting.
“Getting back the hundred grand stolen in the race is top priority,” Emma starts, voice steady, locking eyeswith everyone there. “But the real deal is we found some shit about Midnight that could change everything.” She clicks the remote again and documents start popping up on the board.
“They never actually needed that cash,” Emma tries to find the right words, “it was just a provocation. A way to piss off Carter and O’Connor — both sides of the truce.”
Grace watches, waiting her turn. The white light makes her blonde hair shine, and the pink gloss on her lips highlights her intense gaze.
“We managed to decrypt only part of the drive,” Emma keeps going. “And we found a secret meeting spot we didn’t know about before. That’s the first place we’re hitting.” She points to the map on the whiteboard, a red circle marking the exact spot.
Everyone in the room, me included, leans in, listening to every detail of the new info.
“What do you mean they never needed that money?” Carter asks, scratching his face, sitting in one of the chairs.
Emma and Grace exchange a tense look.
“We found a password-protected folder, but we already know what it’s about: a payment list Midnight’s set to receive. Two million bucks in total,” Grace says now, firm. “The first part’s already been paid — three hundred grand.”
Silence hits the room. Everyone feels the stakes just went way up.
I look over at Carter and O’Connor on the otherside of the room, waiting for a response, maybe the next steps, maybe just a sign that this alliance still makes sense.
But then, behind them, something cuts right through my focus.
He’s there.
Hunter.
And he’s looking at me.
Not like the others do. His stare goes through you. Burns. Taunts. There’s something in his eyes — a mix of defiance, anger... and a flicker I can’t even name. A contained shine, unsettling, almost intimate. Something that makes me feel exposed. Read. Touchable.
My body reacts before my mind even catches up. A chill climbs up my spine like he touched me without laying a single finger. My lungs tighten. My breath stumbles for a second — and I hate that. Instinct screams at me to look away, but I don’t. I freeze. Holding my breath like exhaling would give something away.
He doesn’t look away.
He never does.
And the worst part? I swear I can smell him. Like the air between us shifted. Like it got tainted by his presence. It’s a woody scent, dry and heavy — like smoke that refuses to clear. The kind of scent that clings to someone who’s carrying way too many secrets... and doesn’t regret a damn one.
Then, the memory hits like a punch.
Hours ago, he showed up like a shadow between buildings, straddling his bike like he was born on it — likechaos itself picked a body to walk around in. The engine roared loud, taking over the street like a warning: He’s here.And Hunter was. Too damn relaxed, helmet resting on his arm, that calm-ass voice that only makes shit worse.
“Just thought I’d remind you I’m one step ahead.” He dropped that line like tossing gasoline on a fire — and vanished right after, leaving behind the sound of his bike and a fucked-up feeling I refuse to acknowledge.
I just stood there, fists clenched and head burning, like nothing had happened. Like my body hadn’t reacted at all.
“You guys know what’s over there?” O’Connor asks, crossing his arms and nodding his chin toward the map on the slide Emma and Grace are showing. His voice cuts through the air like a blade — sharp, cold, no bullshit kinda tone.
Emma takes a deep breath, and I catch the slight tension in her shoulders. Grace, right beside her, raises her eyebrows — way too alert for just being curious.
“We think it’s some kinda secret meet-up spot, one we hadn’t known about till now,” Emma says carefully. “Of all the ones we have on record, this one’s the farthest out from Boston.”
Carter doesn’t answer right away. He just stares at O’Connor for a few seconds, like they’re talking without saying a damn word.
“Damon and Hunter go together,” he finally drops.
