The drive to the warehouse takes twenty minutes through roads that grow progressively darker, the streetlights giving way to headlights cutting through the darkness. Everything I've built over two years either holds or shatters tonight. The Russians might be waiting to make their move.
Catriona stays quiet beside me. Not nervous silence. Tactical silence. The kind that comes from someone preparing for violence.
"You don't have to do this," I say. The words come out rougher than I intend.
"Yes, I do." She doesn't look at me. "Those selkies deserve better than what the syndicate did to them."
"They do. But you don't owe them your career. You don't owe them your life."
"Maybe not." She finally turns to face me. "But I owe it to myself not to be the kind of cop who looks away when traffickers operate in my territory. Badge or no badge."
The conviction in her voice reminds me why my tiger chose her. Why the beast recognized something in her that goes deeper than scent or attraction.
She's not backing down. Not from the syndicate, not from the Russians, not from the violence waiting at that warehouse.
My tiger prowls beneath my skin, ready for violence. The urge to claim Catriona wars with the need to keep her breathing.
The Russians are either buying my cover or setting a trap. Before the night is over, I'll know which.
CHAPTER 11
CATRIONA
The warehouse district sits quiet at this hour. Most of the buildings stand empty, their shipping operations shut down for the night. Kian's warehouse is the exception. Lights blazing from the south entrance where the loading dock waits for the Russians' arrival.
We park in the shadows near the north side. Through the truck windows, I can make out dim shapes moving through the north-facing windows. Shadows that could be anything to the casual observer, including tricks of the light. But I know the brotherhood is positioning for the extraction, getting the selkies ready to move. The Russians will be focused on the south entrance, no line of sight to this side.
When we're ready to move, Kian's voice drops to the tactical tone I'm learning to recognize. "Dimitri will arrive with guards. They'll expect to see me alone at the south loading dock, doing business. You'll be inside with Finn and Grayson at the north entrance. The Russians can't know you're there."
"Understood." I adjust the camera where it sits clipped to my jacket collar. "I'll have clear sightlines to the loading dock from the interior windows?"
"Clear enough." He squeezes my hand. "You document everything. The artifacts, the transaction, Dimitri's crew. But you stay with Finn and Grayson the entire time. If shooting starts, they get you and the selkies out first."
"And you?"
"I keep the Russians focused on the artifacts until you're clear." He squeezes my hand once, then releases it. His eyes catch mine. "Stay low. Follow the brotherhood's lead. If this goes sideways, they'll get you out. No arguments. No heroics."
I nod.
I slip out of the truck and move through the shadows toward the north entrance. The night air carries the smell of salt water and rust, harbor sounds muted by distance. My boots make no sound on the cobblestones.
The door opens before I reach it. Finn's silhouette fills the frame, and he gestures me inside without a word.
The interior of the warehouse is dimly lit, crates and equipment creating natural cover. The space smells like years of legitimate salvage work layered over what happens here now. My eyes adjust slowly to the reduced light.
Grayson stands near three bundle-wrapped forms in the corner. The selkies.
I move closer, careful to stay quiet. They're smaller than I expected, curled into themselves like wounded animals. Even through the blankets I can see how thin they've become. Their breathing is labored and shallow. Months of captivity have left them broken.
One of them whimpers softly, a sound that cuts through me. This is what the syndicate does. This is what Kian has been fighting from the inside, what the brotherhood risks everything to stop.
"They've been like this since we got them out," Grayson says quietly. "Barely eat. Don't speak. The trauma runs deep."
"Will they recover?"
"Once they're back with their pod, maybe. Selkies are resilient when they're with their own kind. But they need to get home first."
Finn positions me near a window that overlooks the loading dock. "You can see everything from here. Document what you need. But if Dimitri's men come through that door, you get behind us and you stay behind us."
