The diner was quiet, the kind of calm that only came in the deep hours between night and dawn. The floors were mopped, the last of the dishes drying on racks. Victoria and Celeste danced lazily behind the counter, swaying to a soft tune from the jukebox. Their laughter echoed gently in the empty booths.
It was a good night. For once, everything felt light.
Until 2 a.m.
The door swung open hard enough to make the bell jingle violently. Three men stepped inside—lean, sharp-eyed, unshaven. There was something about them that instantly raised the hair on the back of Victoria’s neck.
Rogues.
She saw it in the way they moved. Too still, too alert. The predator coiled under human skin.
But she didn’t say anything. Neither did Celeste. Both women stiffened slightly, masks slipping back into
