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The sight of the tiny black flame of Ignis sent Shay’s stomach plummeting out her ass.

“Shit,” she mouthed. She ducked down before he could spot her, heart thundering through her whole body.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. SHIT!

She should have felt grateful that she had been rescued from those monster-infested tunnels. Happy, even. And she would’ve been—grateful, happy—were it anyone else behind that wheel.

But these men were Wyverns—skin-changing Darkslayers who worked for Cerise Brinton and the House of Red. And the last thing a Wyvern would ever do was help a Selkie in need.

Or a Devil. Definitely not a Devil.

Knowing that what these men planned on doing to her and Tanner would be nothing short of terrible, she crawled across the truck bed. Latched onto Atlas’s shoulder and shook him.

“Tanner,”she hissed. A pothole jostled the truck, crates knocking together. The air was thick with the pungent odor of gasoline and other flammable liquids.“Tanner.Tanner, wake up.” She shook him again. “Wake up.”

Muffled voices drifted from the cab. Shay’s heart tripped into a swifter beat as the driver suddenly reduced speed.

Oh gods, ohgods,they were going to pull over, weren’t they?

She shook Tanner harder. “Wake up, Tanner—please.Please.Come on, Tanner—come on!” She lightly slapped his cheek. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

A soft mumble. A low groan.

Tanner’s brow twitched as he came to, rolling onto his side.

Oh thank gods?—

But the relief she felt was short-lived, the blood draining from her head as the truck screeched to a sudden halt in the middle of a road.

Tanner blinked. “Wh?—”

Shay clamped a hand over his mouth.

He stared up at her, gray eyes brimming with questions. But there was zero time to explain.

She pressed her index finger against her lips. “Shh.”

The truck doors creaked open, then slammed shut.

Shay let go of Tanner and lay down beside him. “Don’t move,” she mouthed. Maybe they wouldn’t come back here, maybe they were stopping for another reason…but it was better to be cautious.

She shut her eyes tight, praying Tanner had done the same—praying they would survive whatever came next.

The tailgate dropped open with a metallicbang.

Anotherslamas someone leapt up into the truck bed, shaking the vehicle with a heavy stride. Her closed lids darkened as a figure loomed over her, blocking the limited light where he crouched under the truck canopy.

A boot nudged Shay in the ribs, and it cost her all her strength not to cry out in pain.

Yup, at least two of those ribs were broken. But she held still, keeping her face serene, and her body limp.

“Hey cunt,” said a rough male voice.

Oh shit, it was Austin Prescott. Shay had run into this douche bag at a night club not long ago. He was shit-faced and in the mood for fish, as he’d so smoothly told her, trying to grope her between the legs. He hadn’t responded well when she’d rammed the heel of her hand into his nose, fracturing it, and when he’d taken his own swing at her, two bouncers and three onlookers had intervened, throwing him out. It went without saying that she didnotlike him.

Another poke of his stupid boot. “You alive?” She wanted to cut his balls off when he nudged her cheek with the filthy toe, tilting her face up.