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And a little farther down, traffic was at a standstill.

Roman reduced speed, the swift deceleration snapping Shay’s seatbelt taut across her chest.

“Construction?” she wondered aloud, tugging on the belt to get it to loosen.

Pax stirred awake. “Are we there yet?” he asked around a big yawn.

Roman rolled the car down the highway at the speed limit. Other cars came up behind and beside them, fencing them in on this side of the median strip. There was nowhere to go, which wouldn’t be a problem if this were simply a construction zone. But?—

“Shit,”Roman hissed, spotting the police officers moving from car to car on foot at the same time Shay spotted them.

Shitwas right.

This was a roadblock.

75

The Holding Center

ANGELTHENE, STATE OF WITHEREDGE

Sometime later,as Darien sat alone in the thick silence of the interrogation room, the buzzer went off and the door whipped open.

Glen was back with more officers in tow, their hands in easy reach of the firearms and staves strapped to their uniformed bodies. The number of officers and their weapons didn’t faze Darien, though. Not at all.

Whatdidfaze him was the human girl they were herding along in the center of their group, her small form just barely peeking out between their bodies.

Darien shot to his feet, the sudden movement causing the officers to draw their weapons. “What thefuckare you doing?” he growled as multiple officers shouted at him tostay back, don’t move, keep your hands where we can see them,as if he wasn’t already cuffed, the idiots.

He didn’t acknowledge a single command. And among the many loud and aggressive voices echoing in the tight space, above the roaring of the blood in his head, it was onlyhervoice that managed to reach him.

“Darien, it’s okay,” Loren was saying. “It’s okay, just stay c?—”

“Let. Her.Go,”he snarled.

Glen drew a handgun?—

And pointed the fucking thing at Loren’s temple.

Darien stopped breathing.

“Not unless you agree to talk,” Glen threatened.

There was no air left in his lungs. No air in the world. His heart was pounding, his stomach in knots.

He’dkill them.He wanted tokill them,every last one of these pricks. Rip that gun out of Glen’s hand, break his fingers, and blast his skull open with bullets.

The reason he hesitated? Loren. She was breathing unevenly, her wide, ocean-blue eyes shining with fear as that gun hovered within three inches of her temple. Red light pulsed beneath the thin sleeve of her jacket, her low blood sugar the main cause of her pallid complexion and unsteady posture.

That and the gun this prick was pointing at her.

Darien felt like he was suffocating, but he managed to grit out, “I’m not saying a single thing until you let. Her.Go.”

Silence.

He chanced a step forward?—

A softclicksent Darien’s heart hopping up his throat as Glen toggled the safety off.