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“This is insane,” Victor spat out.

“No one's suggesting for one moment that we won’t be close,” Asher said. “There’s no way we’d let Mo be taken, but Daniel’s spot on. If Rigor has shifters with him like the ones that attacked us at home, the plan won’t work.”

Victor couldn’t help the growl from his throat as he sat in the van watching the security feed showing Mo sitting alone at a table. Even through the black and white footage, he could see the tension in his mate's shoulders, the careful way he was showing Khloe's photo to anyone who would look. They'd agreed not to mention Zack unless someone took the bait with Khloe as too many locals might know Zack.

"He's doing fine," Martin assured him, adjusting his earpiece. "My people have eyes on every entrance and exit."

Victor swallowed the next growl. Humans. "This is taking too long. He's been out there for over an hour."

"Patience," Riley counseled from the seat next to Daniel. "He’s doing well, and they aren’t going to rush. They might have people keeping an eye out and it would take time for them to report Mo is there."

Victor knew they were right, but the bond between him and Mo was humming with anxiety. Or perhaps that was just his own fear bleeding through. And underneath it all was the increasingly faint pulse of connection to Zack—weakening by the hour in a way that terrified him.

"Movement at the south entrance," Martin reported suddenly, his voice sharpening. "Two men matching the description of Rigor's known associates."

Victor tensed, every instinct screaming at him to go to Mo, to protect his mate. Riley placed a restraining hand on his arm.

"Trust the plan," Riley murmured. "Trust Mo."

On the screen, Victor watched as the two men entered the bar, scanning the crowd before their eyes landed on Mo. One nudged the other, and they began making their way toward him.

"We've got company," Martin spoke quietly into his comm. "Two approaching the target. Stand by." Victor knew the three men playing darts were all Martin’s. One laughed, then sat down and picked up his beer. Close enough to hear if he was a shifter.

Mo looked up as the men approached his table, his expression carefully neutral, though Victor could feel his spike of fear through their bond.

"Heard you've been asking questions," the taller of the two said, sliding into the seat across from Mo without invitation.

"I'm looking for my sister," Mo replied, sliding Khloe's photo across the table. "And now my partner, too."

The second man leaned forward. "Word is you're connected to those freaks at Hunter's Creek."

Victor's hands clenched into fists at the slur, but he remained silent, watching.

"You know about them?" Mo asked. "My—” Mo lowered his voice “—mate is missing. And I'll do anything to find Zack and my sister. Anything."

“So how come you’re out here on your own?”

Tears sprang to Mo’s eyes, and they were genuine. Victor lurched to his feet, but Daniel caught his arm. Mo swallowed. “I’ve left. They can’t help me. It puts the kids in too much danger for me to stay there.”

The men exchanged looks. "Might be we know someone who can help," the first one said. "For the right price."

"Name it," Mo replied without hesitation.

The taller man chuckled. "Not that kind of price. Boss wants to meet you. Alone."

"When and where?" Mo asked.

Victor tensed. This was moving too quickly.

"Now," the man said, standing. "We'll take you."

They saw Mo hesitate. Daniel had warned him not to appear too eager. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“My boss has a grievance with those that are bringing too much attention to certain types of people,” he said carefully. “He wants it stopped.”

“Very clever,” Daniel said. “Makes it look like there’s someone else involved that might be persuaded to join forces.” Mo nodded and stood up, following the men to the bar. This was it. They would take these two goons and find out what they knew. Find out where Zack was.

Victor watched intently as the men guided Mo toward the exit. The taller one had his hand on Mo's back—a seemingly friendly gesture that Victor knew was meant to control his movements.