Page 45 of Raven

“Already on it,” Sean cut in. “And Raven?”

“On his way back. You better believe he’ll tear the city apart if anything happens to her.”

“Then let’s make sure it doesn’t.”

I hung up, muscles coiled, blood running hot. Beatrice had reached out because she trusted us. Trustedme to help her when Raven was gone. I wasn’t going to let her down.

Katherine Laurent just put herself on the wrong side of the Golden Team. I wasn’t far from Carlsbad, I’ll take a quick flight home and be there in no time.

24

Raven

I hitthe tarmac in California just before midnight, barely letting the wheels stop turning before I jumped from the plane. My duffel was slung over my shoulder, boots pounding the asphalt as I made for the waiting black SUV Sean had sent.

Cyclone’s message burned in my head:

Bee’s not safe.

By the time I reached the firehouse, adrenaline was pulsing through every vein. The place was dark—too dark for a working station. Only the security light above the garage doors cast a dull yellow haze.

I didn’t wait. I slammed the door open and stepped inside.

“Beatrice!” I called out, my voice echoing down the hallway.

Nothing.

Silence.

I moved through the rooms quickly—the bunk area, main office, and back hall—and there was no sign of her. There were no notes. No gear was missing. Just a cold, unsettling emptiness.

Her locker was open.

I stepped closer. Inside, her turnout gear was still hanging. Boots on the floor. Her helmet. Her radio. All of it here.

But her jacket—the one she always kept to wear off-duty—was gone, as was her phone charger.

She left in a hurry.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Cyclone.

“She’s not here.”

“What do you mean she’s not there?” His voice snapped to attention.

“I mean, she’s gone. Her locker’s open. Looks like she left fast. But she didn’t take her gear. Her radio is here. The place is just empty.”

Cyclone swore under his breath. “That’s not good. Maybe she’s with her brothers?”

“She’s either hiding,” I said darkly, “or someone made her disappear. I know Beatrice would answer her phone if she were able to.”

I looked at the security camera above the door. The red light blinked, but it was just for show—non-functional. Someone turned it off.

Convenient.

I walked out into the cool night air, scanning the street, my gut twisting tighter by the second.

My phone rang, it was Troy, and he told me that Beatrice was missing. My heart leapt into my throat. “What the fuck do you mean she’s missing? How long has she been missing?”

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