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“Y ou two get your shit worked out?” Lash asked.

Caleb glanced up from tucking extra ammo into his coat to answer his brother. “We’re working on it.” Thoughts of last night with Wolf made him smile.

Lash lifted an extra clip from the bag in the back of the SUV and smirked. The slight smile pulled at the scar that ran from beneath his brother’s chin and down his neck before disappearing into the collar of his shirt.

Fear, his brother’s fiancé of several years, appeared next to them and Lash’s brown eyes softened—the pair were never apart. Caleb wondered when the pair would tie the knot. Fear swept a hand down Lash’s back before he reached between them and snagged a few ammo clips. Of course, Lash and Fear were code names, and even though Caleb was considered the little brother, he couldn’t bring himself to call them by Micah and Alex—their birth names.

The Phoenix operatives had gathered at a pre-arranged location to gear up and make a plan for taking down Carl Grant.

“You two good?” Fear asked, shooting a glance to where Wolf stood talking to Quick.

Quick had shown up early that morning. Right now, the guy was in charge of covert ops in Arizona or Nevada, Caleb wasn’t sure which one it was. Not that any of them were privy to orders that came from the top.

“Say the word and we’ll kick his ass.” Lash pointed an ammo clip at Wolf across the way.

Caleb snorted. “He would hand you yours and you know it.”

“Maybe,” Lash huffed.

Caleb knew his brother had been in agony when he’d gone missing for two years, and it had taken a long time for Lash to stop blaming himself. While his brother had felt in debt to Wolf for finding him, Lash had exploded at the thought of Wolf and Caleb being together. All in all, it had worked out once Caleb had put his foot down.

Caleb was good at that. He wasn’t a pushover, and they all knew it. He’d learned through the school of hard knocks, if you will.

Fear and Lash seemed mollified that he and Wolf were on the mend and moved on to get coffee that someone had thoughtfully supplied.

Caleb closed his eyes when he felt Wolf behind him. The man was scary quiet. He drew in the slight woodsy scent and leaned back against the man’s muscled chest when Wolf’s arms closed around him.

Phoenix hit the ground running.

By Caleb’s calculations, it took the unit forty-three minutes to breach the upper floor of the building due to the number of suspects guarding the outside and stairwell.

Wolf tapped Caleb on the shoulder and his husband moved, leading the way up the stairs. The gun leaped in Caleb’s hand when a perp came down around the corner firing on them.

The fucker went down, but two suspects were on them before he knew it.

Wolf lunged to the side and Caleb dropped low.

A bullet whizzed past Caleb’s head, punching a hole in the wall and Wolf fired, dropping the sucker dead.

Caleb was too close to the other suspect for Wolf to risk a shot, but he didn’t need to. In typical Caleb style, his husband slashed his knife, opened the man’s upper throat, and then jammed the blade into the man’s clavicle. The suspect fell and when Caleb pulled his knife free, the man rolled down the stairs.

Caleb was on the move and Wolf stayed hot on his husband’s ass.

Upward, the odor grew stronger as if those who inhabited the building forgot what a shower was. That stench was also mixed with mold. Wolf grimaced.

Reaching the top floor, they stepped into the hallway and took out the perps waiting for them before they started to clear the floor.

The door at the end of the hallway was closed, like a sinister portal waiting for them to breach.

They moved as one.

Toward that door. Toward Carl Grant.

Toward evil.