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"Now?" Victor growled, his patience at its breaking point.

Daniel held up a hand. "Wait for them to clear the main area. We don't want civilians caught in the crossfire."

The seconds stretched like hours as they followed Mo's progress on the security feed. When the three men finally reached the alley behind the bar, Daniel nodded.

"Go."

Martin's team moved first, emerging from their positions with practiced efficiency. The two playing darts abandoned their game, while another rose from his table near the exit, all converging on the alley.

Victor was out of the van before Daniel could stop him, moving with his alpha’s preternatural speed despite his human form. The night air carried Mo's scent to him—fear mingled with determination—and Victor followed it like a beacon.

As he rounded the corner, he saw Mo being shoved toward a waiting SUV with tinted windows. The taller man had Mo's arm twisted behind his back while the second opened the vehicle's door.

"Get in," the man was saying. "Boss doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Mo struggled, playing his part perfectly. "Let go of me! You're hurting me!"

The distraction was all Daniel's team needed. The shorter man went for his gun, proving he was a human, but never completed the motion. Daniel and Asher pounced, but the third grabbed Mo. "Back off or he gets it!" he shouted, pressing the barrel against Mo's temple.

Victor's world narrowed to a pinpoint focus. His mate was in danger. The wolf inside him howled for blood, but Victor maintained control. He couldn't shift here, not with Martin's human team present.

Instead, he moved silently along the shadows of the building, using the distraction of the standoff to circle behind the gunman. Mo's eyes widened fractionally as he spotted Victor, but he gave no other indication.

"Easy," Daniel called, emerging from the opposite side with his FBI badge visible. "You're surrounded. Let him go, and we can talk."

The gunman's grip tightened on Mo. "I said back off! I'll—"

Victor struck with blinding speed, one hand clamping around the man's gun wrist while the other locked around his throat. With a precise application of pressure—just enough strength to incapacitate without revealing his shifter abilities—Victor forced the man to drop his weapon.

The gunman struggled, but Victor's grip was unbreakable. "Don't move," Victor hissed in his ear, "or I'll snap your neck."

Mo stumbled free immediately, but he was jubilant. It had worked. They got them. Now they had to find out what they knew. Mo closed his eyes and searched for the special place in his heart and mind where he could feel Zack and couldn’t stop the tears from falling this time. Barely a flicker. He could barely feel Zack. Mo let out a sob and rushed to where Victor was shoving one of the men in the van. Zack was dying. Mo knew he was. They had to get to him, and they had to get to him now.

Chapter Twenty-Four

VictorbundledMointothe van after the two men were secured, his arm tight around his mate's shoulders as Mo trembled with barely contained emotion.

"We don't have time for standard interrogation procedures," Victor said to Daniel, his voice low and dangerous. "Zack is running out of time."

Daniel nodded grimly. "I'm aware." He turned to the two handcuffed men. "You have one chance to tell us where Pearson is keeping our friend."

The taller man spat on the floor of the van. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Victor's patience snapped. He lunged forward, grabbing the man by his shirt collar and lifting him partially off the bench seat. "My mate is dying," he snarled, not caring that his eyes had shifted. "And you're going to tell me where he is, or I'll show you exactly what a shifter can do when his family is threatened."

The man's eyes widened in fear as he realized what Victor was. "I—I don't know! I swear! We just got orders to grab him," he jerked his head toward Mo, "and bring him to a meeting point. Rigor handles all the details!"

"What meeting point?" Daniel demanded.

"Warehouse 12 on Grafton Avenue," the second man blurted out, clearly even more intimidated than his partner. "Rigor's waiting there. That's all we know, I swear!"

Victor released the first man, who slumped back against the van wall. "If you're lying—"

"I'm not," the man insisted. "Rigor never tells us anything. We're just muscle."

Victor turned to Daniel. "Warehouse 12. Now."

Daniel was already signaling to the driver. "On it."