A beat of silence stretched. Then another voice cut through, calm and precise. Duchess.“Watchdog, listen to me. North side. Two blocks over there’s a maintenance ladder. Take it down, follow the alley east. We’ll cover your tail.”
Jonas blinked.“Duchess?”
“Move.”
There was no time to argue. He guided Clara toward the ladder, keeping her close as they descended. The night was alive with pursuit, shouts behind them, the van’s doors slamming, footsteps pounding over wet concrete. Jonas’s instincts tracked every sound, every shift of shadow, and still the weight of Clara in his grip anchored him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.
They broke into the alley. Two men rounded the corner, but before Jonas could react, gunfire cracked sharply againstthe night. The attackers scattered, ducking behind cover as a motorcycle roared past, tyres skidding, and he recognised Titan’s bike.
“Left!”Duchess’s voice again, hard in his ear.
Jonas pushed Clara ahead, breath burning in his lungs, muscles screaming. His focus narrowed: one foot, then the other,protect her, don’t stop.
Then, headlights flared. A black van swung across the mouth of the alley. For one furious second Jonas thought it was the enemy, but the side door slid open, and Lotus leaned out, rifle braced, eyes sharp under her dark fringe.
“In!” she snapped.
Jonas shoved Clara forward, boosting her into the van before climbing in after her. Hands caught him, Bein, solid as a wall, hauling him the last step inside, Reaper covering their flank with fire until the door slammed shut.
The van lurched into motion, tyres squealing. Jonas braced himself against the wall, Clara pressed into the seat beside him, trembling and silent.
He stared at them all, breath ragged. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Bein’s hand clapped his shoulder once, heavy with weight and certainty. “You’re family, Watchdog. And family always knows when one of their own needs them.”
Jonas’s throat worked, words caught somewhere between gratitude and fury.
Reaper leaned back in his seat, smirking, his weapon resting casually across his lap. “Well, mate, looks like you’re in deep shit now. Snatching brides in the middle of the night? Even for you, that’s a new one.”
Lotus snorted softly, checking her ammo with deft fingers. “Bás is going to kill you before he even asks questions.”
“He can get in line,” Jonas muttered, running a hand over his face.
The van jostled hard, Clara flinching at the motion, and he found himself shifting instinctively, steadying her before she could fall. Her feet were covered in dirt and blood, cuts from running barefoot through the streets.
“Her feet.” He leaned forward to reach for Clara’s ankle and pain in his side made him hiss.
For a moment, the silence held, thick with adrenaline and the unspoken storm to come.
Then Bein’s voice, low but sharp. “Watchdog. You’re bleeding.”
Jonas looked down, finally registering the hot slickness along his side, the bloom of red spreading across his shirt where the knife had slipped home in the fight.
He blinked once, the world tilting slightly at the edges. “Oh,” he said, almost absently. “That explains it.”
Clara gasped, her hand covering her mouth, eyes fixed on the stain seeping through his clothes.
And in the close, racing darkness of the van, the team pressed in tighter, the reality of what Jonas had set in motion settling over them all.
Chapter 7
Sleep wouldn’t come.
Clara had curled beneath the duvet, her phone still clutched to her chest after Lena’s message, the laughter fading into a kind of hollow ache. But even as exhaustion pulled at her, her body refused to settle. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him again, the stranger in the museum, his eyes shadowed with pain, gaze so steady it had unsettled her all the way to her bones.
It was ridiculous. She didn’t know him. She shouldn’t even be thinking about him. Yet something about that look had lodged itself in her chest, sparking warmth where there should only be guilt.
She shifted, kicked off the duvet, and padded barefoot into the kitchen. Her cocktail glass still sat by the sink, a few melted cubes rattling faintly when she set it by the dishwasher. She told herself it was the sugar, the caffeine, the leftover fizz in her system that kept her awake, but deep down she knew better.
