Asher straightened to his full height, dragon fire rolling beneath his skin. His voice took on the unmistakable timbre of command that had made grown men and shifters alike quake.
"Get Theo, Marcus, and Jared. Anyone else you trust completely. We meet at the east field in thirty minutes."
"That's not much of a force against Joni's dragon, an alpha wolf shifter, and their followers," Caleb cautioned as they strode from the office.
"Half the town might fear what Danica represents, but the other half saw what she did for us. We might be able to round up some more clutch members with a little convincing." Asher'svoice carried absolute conviction as they moved through the mansion's hallway. "I know the ones who stood with her at the festival will stand with her now."
Caleb matched his stride. "We'll need to convince them fast. If Joni's talking about midnight fire?—"
"They're planning to burn her at midnight." The words tore from Asher's throat, primal and raw.
"We need testimony first, Ash. We can't just rush in there."
"Fine. Joni dies last," Asher snarled, pushing through the front door into the fading afternoon light. "I want her confession before I tear her throat out."
They reached Asher's garage where Caleb pulled out his phone, rapidly texting contacts and coordinates. "Marcus is closest to the community center. He'll round up whoever's there for the memorial planning."
Asher nodded sharply, yanking open the door to his Porsche. "Tell them to come prepared for battle. This isn't a negotiation anymore."
As Caleb slid into the passenger seat, his phone buzzed with responses. "Theo's got eight at the training grounds. Jared can pull another five from patrol."
"That's twenty including us," Asher calculated as the engine roared to life. "Not enough against their combined forces, but we don't need to win a war. We just need to extract Danica."
The Porsche peeled out of the circular driveway. Asher's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as another pulse of fear shot through the mate bond.
"Hold on, sweetheart," he whispered. "I'm coming for you."
TWENTY-TWO
DANICA
Danica woke up to the taste of rust and molasses in her mouth. Her head throbbed incessantly, and her vision still blurred slightly at the edges. She blinked several times, trying to focus on the shadowy space around her.
"What the hell...?" she murmured, the words coming out slurred.
That's when she realized she couldn't move. Her wrists burned, and when she looked up above her head, she saw they were bound with rough rope to what looked like an iron crossbeam. Her ankles were also secured together and tied to another iron beam below her bare feet. She looked down past her feet, realizing she was suspended several feet above the ground against some kind of metal framework.
The ceremonial white dress they'd put her in—wait, who had changed her clothes?—fluttered in the draft coming through broken windows. The garment was thin, almost sheer, with embroidered symbols she didn't recognize at the edges. Some kind of ritualistic nonsense.
"Oh, dear god," she whispered, memories flooding back. Joni in her apartment. The water. The phone call.
The cavernous space around her was all crumbling brick and rusted metal. Massive iron vats lined one wall, ancient machinery stood frozen in time, and the sickly-sweet smell of decades-old sugar permeated everything. An abandoned sugar mill. Probably somewhere in the bayou where screams would attract nothing but bullfrogs and alligators.
Danica twisted her wrists, testing the restraints. The rope bit deeper, fresh pain blooming across her skin. Already her circulation was compromised, her fingers tingling unpleasantly.
"Asher," she whispered, her voice cracking.
Danica was always the one saving others from their crises. Now, she found herself desperately wishing someone would come save her. Specifically Asher. His fierce protectiveness, his commanding presence, and his absolute refusal to back down from a fight—she needed all of it now.
A strange warmth blossomed in her chest despite the terror. She closed her eyes and focused on it, somehow knowing it was connected to him.
Help me, Asher.
Outside, voices grew closer. Multiple sets of footsteps and hushed conversations. Danica's entire body tensed, alert for any opportunity or any weakness she could exploit. She might be a human in a supernatural world, but she wasn't going out without a fight.
The dilapidated metal door at the far end of the mill creaked open. Joni stepped through, transformed from the friendly woman at the festival into something altogether more sinister. Her long red hair fell over one slender shoulder, and the crimson dress she wore clung to her tall frame like a second skin, slashing to the thigh with a neckline that plunged almost to her navel.
"You're finally awake." Joni's smile was that of a predator watching wounded prey. "Perfect. I was worried we'd have to start without you."