“And?”

“Fucking lost her. I assume she’s gone back home.”

Victor’s face darkened, but he wasn’t surprised. He’d sent one of the pack’s wolves on a separate mission to follow Amy Greentree. Find out what the hell the pesky journalist was up to. “Don’t assume,” Victor warned with practiced control, a threat in his voice.

The werewolf bristled. “I only meant⁠—”

Victor lifted a hand, silencing him. He motioned for the werewolf to take a seat. He did so, grumbling something incoherent. After he was seated, Victor commanded him to explain everything he’d seen that day, including whether the woman had been alone. Apparently, a driver had accompanied her the entire day.

Victor smirked. Stacy had gotten smart and hired a bodyguard for her friend. The wolf reported that Amy Greentree had visited several of the warehouses and old factory buildings Victor owned and operated on the outskirts of the city. “She seems to have a list of locations under your management.”

He remembered his command earlier that day. The wolf was to follow the journalist but not harm her. He wanted information, to know what she was up to. Then, they could lay the traps for the true plan.

He nodded but did not show his satisfaction. “That will do for now. My plan moving forward will work better with the information you’ve provided. I believe it’s time we stopped chasing our problems at night and in the shadows.” A slight smile graced Victor’s lips. “It’s time we do something more…public.”

The atmosphere was thick with tension as the businessman pulled open a drawer in his desk and retrieved a small, encrypted flash drive. He slid it across the table to the wolf. “I’ll keep you on this case for now.”

It wasn’t like he had another choice. The rest of this one’s pack was dead, and the sentinel from the other pack he employed was off hunting down Voss. “This drive contains critical information about our next operation. I trust you to keep it secret. No one but you and I are to know about it.”

The werewolf nodded but asked, “Not even my alpha?”

Victor responded with a cold smile, recalling how loyal wolves were to their pack members, especially their leaders. “You don’t have an alpha anymore.”

The werewolf’s face paled. “What do you mean?”

“They botched their operation tonight. They’re all dead.” Victor glanced at the spot where blood had been less than an hour ago. It was gone now. No sign that he’d shot the reporting wolf. He only hoped he wouldn’t have to shoot this one, too. He was fucking sick and tired of cleaning up blood.

The wolf swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “My brothers…”

“We will have revenge for what happened to them,” Victor promised. “But you must do what I tell you next.”

The wolf’s eyes widened.

“Do you understand?” Victor asked in a low, dangerous voice.

The wolf nodded.

“You can go, then.”

The werewolf stood, clenching the flash drive, and turned to leave. His shoulders were more slumped than when he entered the room.

With the wolf gone, Victor swiveled his chair to face the windows. His mind turned over the events of the day. Perhaps the attack on the Thorn estate, resulting in a pack of wolves out of the picture, wasn’t so bad. His new plan was on the horizon, as the sun would soon be.

He knew what Amy Greentree had been prowling around. She was curious about his operations. Stacy Drake was angered by his attack. No doubt she knew he’d done it as he had planned. That was why he’d sent the werewolves—so it was obvious. Both women were ready for the trap he’d soon lay.

Victor poured himself another drink and tipped it to his lips with a small smile of satisfaction. After he finished the drink, he decided it was high time he went to bed. “Rest,” he murmured. “Tomorrow is a new day.”

“This is the last one on the list,” Amy remarked as Spencer drove into the dimly lit warehouse district. The moon shone over the secluded roadway, and a few street lamps flickered over the cracked parking lot between two old buildings. The chain-link fence running along the property lines sagged.

“He could stand to remodel or maintain at least one of these places,” Spencer commented. “This is where he has one of his offices?”

Spencer’s unconvinced expression had Amy second-guessing herself, but she nodded. “Weird, right? I don’t even see cameras. He must think no one can find him here.” Her green eyes shone.

Spencer frowned. “What plan are you cooking up in that beautiful mind of yours?”

Amy’s cheeks tinged pink. “We could go in, you know. Look around. It’s late. I doubt anyone will be here.”

“And if they are?”

Amy squeezed his upper arm. “That’s why I have you around. Besides, I’ve been in more dangerous situations before.”

“Stacy will skin me alive if anything happens to you.”

“Then don’t let anything happen to me.”

Her grin won him over. Spencer parked the car behind a row of large dumpsters and made sure he was fully armed before the pair set off on foot along the quiet street. Aside from the warehouses and old factory buildings, this area consisted of seldom-used roads, empty lots, and dense woods. The silence over the area sent a chill up Amy’s spine. Or maybe that was the chilling breeze. An owl hooted somewhere among the trees.

Amy wondered if she should have done this with Stacy, who had magic to defend them. Spencer would have to do. Maybe I am being stupid, she thought. But we have to find out what Victor is up to. If she didn’t pursue this opportunity, she would be waiting a lot longer to find a new one.

She had texted Stacy to let her know what was going on and not to wait up for her. Tomorrow at breakfast, she hoped to have something to report. They weren’t being followed anymore, at least.

They reached the warehouse door and found it unlocked. “We’re lucky,” she mused.

“Or we’re walking into a fucking trap,” Spencer grumbled.

“Keep close,” she whispered.

Spencer drew a handgun, prepared to defend them. To Amy, it was a matter of “if,” but it was “when” to him.

Amy stepped into the warehouse. It was dark except for an open window high up near the rafters where the moonlight cascaded in. She took a moment to grow accustomed to the dimness, then turned to observe her surroundings.

She imagined Victor’s office in the city was opulent, but this was as shabby as it could get. She doubted he came here to conduct business often. A desk was shoved against a far wall, accompanied by a rolling chair, a small rug, and a rusty filing cabinet. Shadows and cobwebs clung to the rafters.

The warehouse was one large room and a single smaller room with a toilet symbol on the door. Amy doubted the bathroom was any nicer than the rest of the building. She observed several containers, including large, sealed shipping crates, metal cabinets, and cardboard boxes. They were stacked along one wall, organized by type.

She wondered if they had been delivered here with the intent of sending them somewhere else. If so, when? She didn’t envy the delivery guys. That shit looks heavy, especially the crates, she thought.

What the hell was in them? Nothing good, she surmised.

Amy’s gaze drifted back to the filing cabinet. She strode over with Spencer close behind, scanning their surroundings as if someone or something might jump out at them at any moment.

Hopefully not a werewolf, Amy thought. She didn’t need Spencer seeing that. Then again, he didn’t know about magic, so all he would see was a large, very hairy man.

Amy used the flashlight function on her phone to illuminate the filing cabinet. It was locked. She searched the desk’s surface but found only an old PC and monitor. She looked in a drawer and found a small set of keys, then inserted one in the cabinet and opened it.

“What are you doing?” Spencer hissed.