Page 9 of Devour

We pull up to a row of old industrial units on the south side of the city. It’s the type of shithole prime for shady bullshit to take place—busted security lights, chain-link fencing, blacked-out windows. The address Dane sent leads to a unit at the far end with two vehicles parked outside. A white cargo van and a dark SUV.

I drive as close as I can with my lights out so we can do as we were told—just watch.

“Tell me we’re not parking next to a dumpster with a dead body in the trunk,” Priest says, propping his feet back up on my dash. I swear I’m going to break his fucking legs. He’s like six foot four. That shit looks uncomfortable as fuck.

We didn’t have time to dump the dead asswipe without being late. At least it’s dark now.

“Do you see a better fucking spot to park where we won’t be seen?”

“I’m just saying, between the garbage and Dylan rotting in the back, you’re never going to smell good enough for your girl to fuck you.” He chuckles at his joke, obviously pleased with himself.

“Do you think about anything other than pussy?”

I pull my phone from my pocket and log into the same tracking app that I installed on Saylor’s phone. She’s at her house. And based on her movement history, she did as she was told and went straight there. Good girl.

I’m already imagining what her ass looks like in a tight pair of yoga pants and her hair up in a messy bun that’s perfect for me to hold onto when I fuck her pretty mouth.

“Do you?” Priest laughs, watching me on my phone. But he lets it go and focuses on the building. “I don’t see any exterior security. If it’s what we think it is, they don’t think anyone is watching.”

“It’ll just make it that much easier when we take their asses out.”

Dane believes that this operation might be connected to something bigger—something he and his sons have been looking for even though they already eliminated some of the key players. There have been rumors of a sex trafficking ring still operating within the Ravens.

I doubt the Council actually cares if women are sold for sex, given that they auction young brides and widows and then watch the highest bidder fuck them like a stage show. They only care about their pride and that they get their cut. They expect to know everything going on, because if they don’t, their control over us all is just a fucking illusion.

Even Dane Sinclair bought his wife at auction, although we all know the man is very much in love with Whitney. I was on the team that helped get her back when she was taken once. Everything that happened to her and a couple other Sinclair wives was brutal. If I were Dane, I might go house to house burning them all down.

Dane’s motivation is to keep his family safe. The Sinclairs are a constant target because of the power they hold, and now that everyone knows how much they all love their wives—a rarity in our world—they’ll use the women to bring down the men. Some have already attempted it, and the Sinclairs will stop at nothing to ensure it doesn’t happen again.

I take our masks from the center console. I hand Priest his and pull mine on. The masks are mostly ceremonial. Everyone in our world wears them to certain rituals and events. But out on assignment, we wear them to protect our identity. The Sinclairs don’t want other members coming after us or our families for the shit we have to do.

The weight of the mask settles against my face, and everything else falls away—the taste of my girl still lingering on my tongue, my throbbing cock, the body in the trunk. All of it gets put aside for now. There’s a reason I’m one of Dane’s chosen men. Because I know how to get the job fucking done.

A dark BMW pulls in from the opposite end of the row. No headlights. It parks behind my blacked-out G-Wagon and Justin Carter steps out.

He’s already in his mask that lights up red like mine, which almost makes me want to change my color. He’s in all black and moves across the lot like he’s strolling into a fucking party. Justin walks through life like nothing in the world has ever been a threat to him and he can take whatever the fuck he wants. I can’t say we’re taught any differently in our world. But that fucker is going to get what’s coming to him one of these days.

“There’s your boy,” Priest mutters.

“Are you going to be like this all night? I can’t wait until you get some pussy.” He’s been more of a dick than usual lately.

“I might go for the mouth this time. It’s been too long since a woman has gagged on my cock.” He says it like I actually fucking care. I don’t. I won’t know what he decides, because wherever my girl sits in the arena is where I’ll be focused—not watching him get his fuck for being a good little Talon.

Priest puts his mask on. The slashes are illuminated in blue neon, his chosen color. “Now you’d better play nice with your future brother-in-law.”

“Shut the fuck up. No one is marrying anyone.”

At least not yet. My father will have plenty to say about who I fucking marry. I don’t give a shit what he wants. Right now, I’m just focused on making sure that Saylor is my fucking Dove. Then I’ll handle the rest.

We get out and cross the lot since Justin didn’t bother waiting for us. He’s leaning against the building by the time we reach him. He’s standing there with his arms crossed, one boot against the wall, like he’s the one running this shit and we’re the ones who are late.

“Axl.” He nods at me, then at Priest. “Priest. Can’t say I’m glad to see either of you.”

“Let’s scout it out.” I ignore whatever he’s playing at. I don’t have time for his bullshit. I’m here to do a job, and then I’ve got my own shit to do.

Justin motions to Priest. “You go that way. Axl and I will check out the other building.”

Priest looks at me and then at Justin like he wants to argue. He doesn’t want to leave me alone with Justin.