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“Both. Wish I had a big enough screen here to show you.”

“We’re moving ops to my place,” Vapor says. “Pack your shit. Ice, get your woman and meet us there. Bones, tell Tank the plan. I’ve got plenty of coffee at my place. See you guys in an hour.”

“Will do,” I say.

The others agree to rendezvous back at Vapor’s house. As we file out of the room, I look up at the sky, where stars are obscured by the reach of the city’s glow. Somewhere beyond that artificial shine, fate is watching us, waiting to see if we have what it takes.

The road ahead is treacherous, riddled with pitfalls and unknown perils, but fear is a luxury I can’t afford. I’m ready to face whatever awaits us. UVMC is unstoppable. We’ll save those kids and their moms and strike another blow to the Los Serpientes de Cristal cartel. After that, we’ll be one step closer to reclaiming the soul of New Orleans. Tonight’s darkness will give way to tomorrow’s battle, and we’ll be ready. Tonight, we were ghosts. Tomorrow, we’ll be the tempest that tears their world apart.

Chapter 17: Isabella

The door to Ice’s bedroom creaks open, and I leap to my feet. Ice’s silhouette fills the doorframe for a second before he steps in and shuts the door behind him. I rush toward him, my relief almost tangible as I throw my arms around his broad shoulders.

“Tell me,” I plead, pulling back just enough to search his face. “How did it go? Are you okay? The kids—did you find them?”

He nods, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “We found the children. They’re safe for now.”

A weight lifts off my chest, but the gravity of their situation remains. “What’s next? Are you going back to get them?”

“Not quite yet. Pack a bag,” he says, urgency lacing his words. “We’re heading to Vapor’s. We need to plan out a simultaneous rescue for the women and their children. Two warehouses, two teams, one shot to get this right. We’re staying the night, so bring enough for at least a day or two.”

I waste no time gathering my things, stuffing clothes into the duffel bag Ice hands me. He packs his own bag, then waits for me to gather my toiletries. I grab his toothbrush too. Men! Always forgetting to bring the important stuff.

When I’m done, we head outside to his bike. I climb onto the back, wrapping my arms tightly around him. The engine roars to life, cutting through the silence.

The ride is a blur of sensations—the hum of the motorcycle beneath me, the wind whipping past, and the steady pressure of Ice’s back against my chest. We weave through the French Quarter, past iron-laced balconies and jazz-infused air, toward the Garden District.

Vapor’s three-story house, complete with a turret, is stunning, like something out of a fairytale. Blue greets us on the porch, her coppery red hair is a fiery beacon. She welcomes us into her home, which has oak floors with intricate inlays, soaring coved ceilings, original pocket doors, and period moldings. As we walk deeper into the house, I stop to stare at the gorgeous millwork. They don’t make houses like this anymore, that’s for sure.

Blue leads us upstairs to a bedroom that speaks of rest and sanctuary, but there’s no time for that now. We quickly drop off our bags before heading downstairs.

“Want to join me in the kitchen for some tea?” Blue asks.

“Am I joining the meeting?” I ask Ice, seeking confirmation.

“You are. Give me a second though.” Ice jogs into a nearby room, leaving Blue and I in the hall.

Blue shakes her head while her emerald-green eyes study me. “Women aren’t typically involved in club business. You must have something they need.”

“They need to know about the warehouse where I worked. Does being excluded from club business ever bother you?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

“Not really. It’s safer if I don’t know anything,” she replies without hesitation. “Vapor tells me anything I need to know. The rest doesn’t matter. Ignorance can be bliss. Besides, they’reall good men who are doing the right thing, fighting for justice. That’s really all that matters.”

Her admission is interesting. I would have thought she’d want to know everything, but I guess being left in the dark has its appeal, too. In this world, knowledge is as dangerous as it is powerful.

Ice pokes his head out of the room. “Come on in. We’re ready for you.”

As I walk into Vapor’s office, my eyes dart from face to face, taking in everyone’s expressions. Blue says they’re good people, and I believe her. Her certainty eases the knot in my stomach. These men—my unexpected allies—are committed to a cause larger than themselves. I admire their devotion to integrity because it mirrors my own.

“All right, let’s get down to it.” Vapor’s voice cuts through the silence, his presence dominating the room.

We gather closer as Fang tacks the blueprints onto the wall with a sense of purpose. The paper crackles under his fingers as he smooths it out. “This is the layout of each building. I’ve marked the textile factory to indicate what we know about the guard schedule.”

“Isabella,” Vapor prompts. “Tell us everything you know about the drug cutting warehouse.”

My heart pounds as I step forward, the details spilling from my lips. “The guards work in shifts—three rotations. They’re always armed, but,” I pause, swallowing hard, “they get sloppy toward the end of the night. The workers go home at 9 p.m.”

“Good.” Ice nods and gives me a comforting smile. “That’s our window.”