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“You might be tempted to abandon Sterling Falls and come to Emerald Cove yourself.”

Because…

It’s someone I know.

Someone Reese knows, too?

No one immediately jumps out—but there must be a connection. Maybe to Terror? To our teen years? Who would we both have come into contact with, and of that small pool, who left Sterling Falls?

It’s a mystery I fear I’ll be turning over for a while.

“Okay,” I finally relent. “When will you be back?”

“In an hour.”

I scoff. “No. Stay, do your job. I’ll handle this.”

“And are you handling everything else? Saint, Reese…”

Kade.

I finish getting dressed and yank open the somewhat flimsy door to the hideout. It’s no more than a shack adjacent to the marina. I trudge up the gravel path to the vine-covered gate, which I drag open only enough to slip through. Then it goes back into place.

“Tem.”

I wince. “I’m fine. I said that. Why don’t you believe me, Wolfe? Do you not want me to be okay?”

“It’s not that.”

“You just don’t think I’m capable.” I snort. “I’m stronger than you think.”

It’s why I’m quitting heroin. It’s been twenty-four hours… give or take… since I’ve even thought about it.

Okay, that’s not quite true. I’ve thought about it a lot. But I haven’t even considered texting Gabriel to get more.

I just need to keep myself preoccupied with other shit.

Like…

Boom .

I nearly fall into the gate.

“What the fuck?”

“I have no idea. I’ll call you back.” I hang up and shove my phone in my pocket. The good thing about fleeing Bow & Arrow without any of the guys is that I was able to get my car back. My car, which has my spare firearm in a lockbox in the trunk. I rush to it, my gaze sweeping the streets.

Smoke rises in the air in the east.

Shit.

I grab the gun and holster, attaching it to my pants at my hip, and jump into the driver’s seat. My bike would be so much better in a situation like this, but the car will have to do.

I fly toward Olympus, but the closer I get, the more I realize the smoke isn’t coming from that far north.

South of Olympus is the Hell Hounds’ compound and Apollo’s house…

Obviously, we have priorities. I drive down the dirt driveway to Apollo’s house, only to find it perfectly intact. I spin the wheel in their large drive and head back out.

Hell Hounds’ compound next.

The smoke is rising thick and fast from just beyond the trees, and I press my car faster. I’m glad for the bells and whistles that allow it to attack the road, speeding down the lane.

The front portion of the clubhouse is gone . Bikes are scattered, blown back from where they were surely parked in an orderly fashion along the porch.

The roof of the porch—what’s left of it—hangs down in the center. The support posts closest to the middle are broken.

It was a localized blast, I guess?

From what?

Malik bursts around the corner. There’s ash and soot smeared across his face.

This club has bad vibes.

Bad luck.

I cover my mouth so I don’t laugh.

It was only a year and a half ago that someone else blew it up. That one, however, had a much more devastating impact. It resulted in the whole place being demolished and rebuilt.

Kind of like how Kade will have to rebuild his house…

I don’t think I’d mind that. If it was a new house, then I could stomach it.

Not that I want to stomach anything to do with him, I’m just saying. I could . And maybe Saint could, too.

“Artemis!”

I flinch.

Malik flings open my door and ducks down to stare at me. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard—saw?—”

He grunts and reaches past me. Kills my engine, unclips my seat belt. Tows me out. All in swift movements. He looks me up and down, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was tempted to pat me down, too.

I had jeans in my car, buried under some towels—and the gold dress from last night is tucked into it.

It can pass as a shirt, so that’s what we’re going with.

Because I tend to cliff jump spontaneously, I’ve learned to keep an assortment of clothes with me.

Stashed under my seat on my bike, in the trunk, et cetera.

Not that it really matters.

He pushes me against the car, his expression sharpening. “Where were you that you saw it?”

I open and close my mouth.

I once had a crush on Malik. It’s faded now, but I can’t help the tug of worry in my gut.

“Someone tried to kill you,” I say weakly.

He rolls his eyes. “Really? You think?”

“I—”

“I was being sarcastic.”

Right.

“The last I saw you, you were unconscious in the backseat of this car.” He slams his hand on the roof. “How did that happen?”

My breathing hitches. “Um…”

“Artemis,” he warns.

“Was the car parked?” My tone is hopeful.

“No.” He crosses his arms. “Reese was driving. Right past us, here.”

I swallow. Reese didn’t mention that. At my confusion, Malik sighs.

“He said he was trying to help you, and then Laurent and some of his guys rode up on us. Reese took you and split before they reached us.”

My eyes widen. “They… what?”

“Cyclopes in East Falls.” He shakes his head. “I thought Kronos had a pair of balls, but these guys…”

I scrunch my nose. I shouldn’t think about Kade’s balls. And definitely not the former Titans leader’s wrinkly old set.

Gross.

So, so gross.

“What happened with Kade?”

He shrugs. “They wanted to prove their mettle.”

My stomach knots. “And…?”

“And one walked away with a blade in his stomach.”

I grimace. “Is this payback?”

“No, Artemis.” He stares down at me. “The knife to the gut was the punishment for trespassing. This was… something else entirely.”

Great.

Someone calls an all-clear, and the Hell Hounds come out of the woodwork. They’re armed to the teeth, their leather cuts gleaming in the sunlight. They busy themself yanking away the savable pieces of roof and porch. Someone sprays a still-smoking wall with a fire extinguisher.

Malik and I venture closer to the blast zone. The dirt and gravel, in a ring starting at the heavy metal door that now lies flat inside the club, is charred. There are nails and bits of metal everywhere.

“It was a package.” He dips his chin toward one of the guys sitting on the far end of the porch. He’s being taken care of by another guy. “He didn’t notice it, and opening the door jostled it. He was partially behind the door, which saved his life.”

“Damn.”

He sighs. “I thought we’d hold on to peace a while longer.”

“Because you want peace, or because Wolfe does?”

His palm rests on the butt of his gun, strapped at his hip. Realizing he’s armed isn’t shocking—I’d be more shocked if it was absent. I grew up around the Hell Hounds, and ninety-nine percent of them carry.

“I wanted it. I wanted to stop my guys from dying in the streets. But… I think this will be worse.”

“How so?” My skin prickles at his words.

I just need him to say something that I can refute. Like that this gang is bigger, meaner, or stronger… he doesn’t know that. He couldn’t possibly.

“They want it more,” he says quietly. “There’s a desperation underlining their actions.”

Shit.

I don’t think I can argue with that.