The sharp blare of Devil’s voice over the compound intercom jolted everyone awake.
“Emergency. All patched members, meeting room. Now.”
Ash stirred immediately, groggy and disoriented, the echo of a nightmare fading from his mind. He pushed himself up from the thin cot, his body still aching from bruises that hadn’t fully healed. Beside him, Killer was already pulling on his cut, his face tight with worry.
“Another hit from the Vultures?” Killer muttered under his breath, his voice low but sharp.
Ash didn’t answer. He had a bad feeling. Something in Devil’s tone was off—colder, heavier.
By the time they reached the meeting room, most of the core members were already there—Blade leaning against the wall, arms crossed; RT frowning deeply; Flint looking like he’d been dragged straight ou
