(Aaron)
The Red Watchers brought me to the holding facility—one of the highest-security prisons for wolves, governed under werewolf laws. It was an impressive building, with wolves locked up for their crimes.
The place was cold, dim, and reeked of silver and old blood. DJ Zero was locked behind reinforced silver bars, his every movement monitored.
Two full hours of Alpha Roman, Beta Cooper, and two other senior Watchers questioning him. And Zack—DJ Zero—was smiling the entire time. The interrogation was a waste. I was told to sit outside, watching, to see if I could find any clues, but I found nothing, except this rogue had no sense of right or wrong.
He lounged on the steel bench bolted to the wall, fingers tapping out a rhythm as if he were still DJing from a booth, not rotting behin
