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Maximoff Hale Heavy rain beats the sleek, blue electric car in a deserted alleyway. Car windows are fogged. An overhang on the side-exit keeps us dry, and Farrow catches my arm before we run into the midnight storm with Charlie. My cousin already disappears into the front passenger side. “Half of Omega is waiting in security’s Range Rover in case Ben drives off,” Farrow explains as he quickly fits in his earpiece and hooks a radio to his belt. “They really let you back on duty?” I ask, and we step into the rain together, our boots meeting the slick road. Farrow jogs around to the other door. “I’m the best at what I do, wolf scout. Everyone needs me. Case in point.” He puts a hand on the car’s wet roof. I clutch the door handle. He’s right, but there’s a difference between security and me. “I don’t just need you though.” I want you. I want you. God, I want you. I express the carnal words in my eyes, and his chest elevates, seeing every loving want written on me. “Damn,” he mutters, rain dripping down his temples and off his jaw. Damn. I inhale strongly. Yeah, that’s about right. It’s a good start to a doomsday. Because I’m not always that smooth, and something needs to go right before everything goes f*****g wrong. We both slip into the rear doors at nearly the same time. Shutting out the rain. I brush water out of my soaked hair. Winona rotates to me in the middle seat, her face delicate and feminine compared to her older sister’s strong squared jaw. Her hair, lightened to dishwater-blonde from the sun, falls on a man’s button-down that’s knotted at the waistband of her cargo pants.