DARIUS
I pulled out like a bat out of hell toward the Pack House, Rhea clung there behind me. The motorcycle howled in the night, above safe speeds, but I did not care.
My mind was moving faster than the engine.
Somebody had Karian’s phone, which meant that either Karian was in the hands of their enemy, Karian was under duress or — preferable for both me and them — that Karian was dead. Morrison had detected tampering but perhaps was not safe, either. The conspiracy was outpacing what we could respond to.
All my instincts screamed that we were fast running out of time.
We got to the Pack House to find it strangely silent. Far too quiet for the night before a major trial. The guards were in place, but something didn’t seem right. Their positions were too stiff, their expressions too ne
