“Except everything in Blackwell Falls is Bram’s decision,” Titus said. “You know that.”
“But he’s not even running the Hunt anymore.” Okay, that was a stab in the dark. Bram didn’t talk to me about the Hunt. It was his game, his dark and private fun.
He probably didn’t even think I knew about it.
But he had Maeve now. She’d lost the Hunt to Bram, Remy, and Poe, and after a whole lot of danger and drama, she now lived with them in the loft at the end of Main Street, where Southside ran into the train tracks and the more isolated parts of the Blackwell Preserve.
Bram wouldn’t be hunting now, I knew that because I knew he was stupidly in love with Maeve Haver, and half the fun of the Hunt for the men who hunted was fucking with — figuratively and literally — their prey.
Goose frowned. “Yeah, but he’s still…”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Still…?”
“He’s still Bram,” Titus said. “Fuck.”
“Who’s in charge of the Hunt now?” I asked.
Titus shook his head. “Cassie…”
“Who. Is. In. Charge?”
He sighed. “The Hawks.”
I had no idea who the Hawks were. The masked Hunt teams had names — Bram, Remy, and Poe were the Butchers, in and out of the Hunt — but I had no way of knowing who the Hawks were behind their name.
“So go ask them,” I said.
I knew Titus couldn’t ask Bram because Bram was in Bali. He’d taken Maeve there with Poe and Remy, which was why I’d decided to pull the trigger on this particular Hunt: no one could get a permission slip from my big brother.
For once.
Goose shook his head. “You’re asking for trouble, Cassie.”
“That’s my problem. Go ask the Hawks.”
Titus swore. “You’re not leaving until I ask them, are you?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Fucking fine.” Titus looked at Goose. “Stay here. And for fuck’s sake don’t let anything happen to her on our watch.”
3
JAGGER
I knewsomething was up when Titus came into the holding room early. This was our first Hunt in charge — the first Hunt since the Butchers had bowed out because of the girl they’d claimed in the last two — but Titus had been the bouncer as long as I could remember.
He didn’t enter the holding room before the Hunt unless there was a problem.
He crossed the room to where I stood with Hawk and Vigo, then leaned in so the other teams of men — some already masked, others holding masks in their hands — wouldn’t hear. “Problem.”
I pricked my finger with the hunting knife in my hand and watched as a bead of blood rose to the surface of my skin. “Every problem is an opportunity.”
“Not this one,” Titus said. “Cassie’s out there. She wants in.”
Hawk lifted his eyebrows. “Cassie…?”
He was as bored as I was. As bored as Vigo was. We weren’t built to stand around. We weren’t built to wait.
