Devil nodded once, sharp and sure, then swung his cut over his shoulders. The skull emblem of the Highway Demons gleamed under the dim clubhouse light. He felt its weight, the legacy and the fury, and he embraced it.
As he mounted his bike, the night air biting against his skin, Devil only had one thought.
Haru. I’m coming for you.
But in the shadows, Reid’s web was already tightening.
And Devil was flying straight into it.
x-x-x-x
Reid’s POV
The desert night was quiet, save for the constant hum of engines and the metallic clang of crates being shifted around the Vultures’ compound. The air smelled of oil, sweat, and something far sharper—the scent of anticipation. Reid leaned against his bike, cigar clamped between his lips, watching his men work with the precision of wolves cir
