The engine cut out before it reached us.
That was worse than if it had kept coming. I froze with one boot in the stirrup, my bike half mounted, listening to nothing but wind moving through the trees.
"Kill the lights," Jax said, voice flat and low.
Bear reached over and clicked off his headlamp. The graveyard went dark except for the moon cutting through broken branches. I slid off my bike and crouched behind it, pulse loud in my own ears.
Knox already had his pistol out. He moved to the treeline without a sound, boots careful on the wet grass. Ryder stayed close to me, one hand resting on my shoulder, pressing me down lower behind the bike.
"Someone wanted us to hear that," he whispered. "Then stop."
"A warning," I said.
"Or bait."
Minutes passed. My knees ached from crouching. Th
