Page 73 of Rescuing Aria
Ice floods my veins. Wolfe’s signature confirmed. Not just Night Pack—Wolfe himself.
I open the secure video feed as Marcus’s driver pulls into traffic. Four camera angles show The Little Matchstick Girl from different perspectives. Storm maintains his position near the main entrance while security protocols are activated around the perimeter.
Inside, Ember moves between candle displays, unaware of the danger. Ryn arranges a crystal-embedded collection near the register.
“What’s happening?” Aria leans closer, breath warm against my neck as she tries to see my screen.
I tilt the phone so she can watch. “Storm and Razor are securing the area. Blaze is almost there for extraction. Jenny and Mac are inbound as well.”
“Extraction?” Marcus leans forward, eyes narrowing. “You make it sound like a military operation.”
“It is.” My attention stays on the feed as Blaze’s vehicle appears at the edge of one camera’s range. “Night Pack doesn’t leave warning notes unless they’re planning something bigger.”
On screen, Storm enters the shop. Ember’s face transforms—confusion melting into the hard focus I recognize from our previous encounters with danger. She immediately moves to Ryn, placing herself slightly ahead of the younger woman—protective instinct kicking in.
Blaze enters the frame, shoulders set, expression severe. His tall frame and confident movements make him unmistakable even on the low-res feed. Ember rushes to him, abandoning caution as he folds her into his protective embrace. The St. Michael medallion—his sister’s gift—glints briefly as he presses his lips to her forehead, whispering something that makes her nod.
Ryn stands a few feet away, arms wrapped around herself, looking suddenly small and alone without Ember’s sheltering presence. Then Razor enters from the back, his stride quick but controlled as he reaches her side. He doesn’t touch her—respecting boundaries—but positions himself as a shield, head bent toward her as he speaks. Her shoulders lower slightly as he stays close, providing the security she needs without demanding contact she might not want.
“What was in that package?” Aria’s voice has gone hollow.
I switch camera views to where Mac establishes a small perimeter around a plain brown package leaning against the door. He lifts it in gloved hands, his movements methodical—the instinct of someone who’s handled explosive ordnance for decades. His gruff demeanor doesn’t waver as he examines all sides before carrying it to a portable containment unit.
A quick glimpse of the box reveals what triggered CJ’s alert—a stylized wolf’s head stamped in black ink on one corner. Wolfe’s signature. His calling card, just like before.
“Guardian HRS protocols include secure transport and technical analysis of potential threats.” I keep my voice clinical, detached. “The package will be examined in a controlled environment.”
“Guardian HRS has grown more efficient since I last employed them.” Marcus watches the operation unfold, his assessment as much for his own benefit as mine.
The backhanded observation barely registers as Blaze escorts Ember toward an armored SUV. Razor does the same with Ryn. The shop’s lights go dark as Storm activates security protocols, sealing the building.
“They’re safe.” Aria’s shoulders drop a fraction. “Where are they taking them?”
“Guardian HQ.” I meet Marcus’s gaze directly. “Which is where we’re heading too.”
“Absolutely not. I have no intention of placing my daughter in your facility when my own security is perfectly adequate.” His fingers curl into a fist on his knee.
“Dad, please. If Ember and Ryn are going there, that’s where I need to be.” Aria’s hand finds mine in the darkness of the car.
“This isn’t open for discussion.” Marcus’s tone cuts like a blade. “Mr. Knutt, I appreciate your organization’s assistance with the shop, but my daughter will be under my protection.”
The feed on my phone shows Blaze’s vehicle pulling away, Ember visible in the back seat. Another SUV follows with Razor and Ryn.
“Mr. Holbrook.” I keep my voice level despite the tension knotting between my shoulder blades. “Night Pack specializes in penetrating high-security locations. They’ve compromised government facilities, corporate headquarters, and private residences.”
“Not mine.” The certainty in his voice borders on arrogance.
“They’ve been watching your daughter for weeks.” I turn my phone so he can see the newest image CJ has sent through—three photos found in the package. Aria behind the counter. Ember making candles in what should have been a secure back room. Ryn walking to her apartment, marked with a red X.
Marcus’s expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in his eyes—the first genuine fear I’ve seen from him. Not surprising. After what Night Pack did the last time, after what his half-brother nearly accomplished…
“Guardian HQ was designed specifically to counter organizations like Night Pack.” I press the advantage. “The facility changes access protocols every twelve hours and maintains active counter-surveillance measures at all times.”
“I want my daughter with me.” He’s not standing down.
“Dad, please. I need to be with Ember and Ryn.”
“These people are not your responsibility.” Marcus’s voice softens when he addresses his daughter, a manipulation so subtle she probably doesn’t even recognize it.
