Chapter Twenty-Six
Sage
The sky is overcast as we pull up at Cole's. It's morning, but the heavy clouds make it look like evening, gray light pooling low. A sharp wind cuts through, carrying the smell of rain. A rumble shivers in the distance.
"Storm's coming," I murmur.
"We'll make it quick," Asher says, opening the door for me.
Kayden isn't answering calls or texts. Not in his room, not back since last night. Astrid's messages about the chaos left me with a gnawing suspicion he might have been part of it. The thought coils in my gut, tightening until it's hard to breathe.
What if—
No. I can't think like that. But my chest clenches with every unanswered call.
Inside, Astrid sits with a weary-looking man hunched over a mug of coffee. She lifts her gaze as we come in, but doesn't move or greet us. Probably doesn't want to startle the cop.
The place is quiet. A couple of truckers fueling up before the road, travelers passing through, and a handful of familiar locals scattered across tables.
Asher guides me toward the bar, his hand a steady weight at the small of my back. Winston's broad smile greets us before his words do. "Nice to see you this early. Coffee?"
"Would love some," I say, sliding onto a stool. He pours two mugs, humming something under his breath that doesn't match the jukebox tune crackling behind him.
Jace appears from the back in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled just so.
I arch a brow. "Heading to ring the New York Stock Exchange bell?"
He huffs, but there's a flicker of pride. "Can't blame me for having style." Then he leans in, lowering his voice. "You got me into hot water, you know."
I wince. "Sorry about that."
He shrugs. "All good with…?" He nods toward Asher, who's scrolling his phone, expression unreadable.
"Yeah… it's just—" I lower my voice. "We can't find Kayden."
Jace snorts. "He's probably passed out drunk somewhere."
I nod, but the hope feels paper-thin.
When Winston drifts closer, towel slung over his shoulder, I shift the topic. "How did the pack meeting go?"
The old coyote shakes his head, disappointment in the lines around his eyes.
Jace shrugs, blunt. "Told you it wouldn't work."
"Sometimes you have to try, Jace. Pack, family, even like this… it matters," Winston says, the tone halfway between teaching and reassurance.
Jace frowns. "If they can't step up now, I don't know what good they are at all."
"They'll come around," Winston counters gently. "When it really matters."
But the shadow in his gaze says he isn't sure either.
When Astrid joins us, she doesn't waste words. "I sent your fancy druid blade request to my contact. Haven't seen anything like it myself, but he's good at digging."
"Thanks," Asher says, steady. "And the… other thing?"
The cop is at his table, half-asleep, stabbing a burrito like it offended him.
Astrid flicks a glance his way, then lowers her voice.
"The front door looked blown open. Neighbor reported noise, glass breaking.
The desk on the street cleared out quick, but someone took a photo.
Blurry since it was dark, but you can see enough.
" She hesitates, then adds, "And apparently a few people are missing.
They worked there. Case got bumped to federal. Out of his hands now."
Asher and I share a glance, nerves tightening.
Astrid grimaces. "Yeah. My thoughts exactly. It's got Kayden written all over it."
Winston mutters, "Damn boy… always stirring trouble."
"He went to Darius? Alone?" Jace asks, incredulous.
"We don't know. He's not answering," I say, the words scraping in my throat.
Then my phone buzzes and my heart leaps—please, let it be him.
I snatch it up, check the screen. My chest sinks.
"Unknown number," I mutter.
I swipe anyway. Photos.
My stomach lurches. Blood. Carnage. Too much to take in at once. I look away, then force myself back, because something about it feels familiar. And then I see him.
"Johnny…" The name slips out, ragged, unbelieving.
Before anyone can respond—
Crash.
Glass shatters inward, spraying shards.
"Asher!" I gasp, but he's already moving, his body slamming me to the floor, shielding me completely.
Then a hiss. Something detonates. Fumes.
Asher stiffens, coughs hard, and suddenly his weight crushes down on me as his body goes slack. Unconscious.
"Nightshade," I choke out, panic spiking. Weaponized. It has to be Darius.
The bar erupts—screams, chairs clattering, people stumbling in a blind rush for the door.
I claw at Asher, wriggling free from under him.
The front door crashes open. Figures pour in, half-masked, moving in formation.
Astrid's war cry tears through the smoke, raw and feral, and in the same breath her blade bursts into being, bright, lethal steel.
She's on the nearest attacker before he can blink. He fires, bullets tearing into her side, but she doesn't flinch. Her sword cleaves, and he staggers back.
Another soldier surges forward, blade drawn, and steel slams against steel, the clash reverberating through the room like thunder.
Chaos swallows everything.
A massive coyote launches into the fray, fur bristling, teeth bared. Jace. His howl cuts through the ringing of gunfire, savage and wild.
Gunshot—close. I whip around to see Winston braced with a shotgun, aiming at the intruders, eyes blazing.
Then a commanding voice cuts through the storm.
"Haaalt!"
It's a woman's voice. Firm. Sharp enough to slice the air.
The mercenaries hesitate, weapons raised.
And then I see her. A figure in black armor, crossbow raised, half-mask obscuring her face, but I recognize her. Darlene.
Her bolt is aimed at Asher.
My blood runs cold. I throw myself over him, shielding him with my body.
"I'm warning you, valkyrie. Coyote." Her voice is steady, merciless. "I'm not here to kill them, but if you force my hand, I can put this bolt through both."
Astrid freezes mid-swing. Jace snarls but backs down, his shifted body trembling with restraint. Winston lowers the shotgun, jaw tight with fury.
"That's better." Darlene's tone drips satisfaction. She gestures with her weapon. "Clear the place."
The remaining civilians scatter fast, stumbling out. Even the cop, after one helpless glance at Astrid, turns and bolts. Smart man. He knows this fight isn't his.
Now it's just us—our fractured, cornered group and Darlene's mercenaries, fanned out with precision.
"Well, well." Her gaze roves over us. "Didn't expect to catch the entire enclave together. But no matter. We came prepared."
"There's a truce, Darlene! Darius promised!" I yell out, raw and desperate.
"And your husband shattered it. You saw the photos." Her eyes gleam as she twists the knife. "That was Johnny. And Konstantin. Or what's left of them. Along with half a dozen others in that building."
My chest seizes, horror crashing into me. Johnny. Konstantin. Gone.
My pulse thunders, choking. All I can force out is one question: "Where's Kayden?"
Her eyes narrow. She doesn't answer. Instead, she flicks two fingers.
Two mercenaries step forward. Hard grips close around my arms, yanking me upright, tearing me away from Asher's unconscious body. I thrash, kicking and snarling.
"Be nice," Darlene says, her crossbow never wavering. "Unless you want to lose your second husband as well."
I freeze, the words slamming into me with a painful force. My muscles lock, breath caught. Slowly, stiffly, I let them wrench me down, forcing me to my knees on the floor.
"Let it be known that you attacked first. Every time," Darlene says coldly.
"Wouldn't need to if your boss understood the word no," Winston growls from behind the bar.
Her eyes narrow. "What's between Darius and Sage is their business. You barely know her."
Astrid spits the words like blades. "If you're trying to play the good guys, you just fucked it up."
"We are the good guys. But patience has limits.
However, this deal will show just how generous we are.
While your side butchered two of our top people, and more besides, I'll only require one of you in exchange.
" Darlene's gaze sweeps across us like a predator deciding which prey to take. "The question is—who?"
"You can't be serious!" My voice cracks raw. "No!" I thrash, but the mercenaries twist my arms harder, pain ripping up to my shoulders until my knees slam the floor.
Darlene's crossbow drifts slowly and deliberately from Astrid to Jace.
"The young one," she says, voice like ice, but laced with grief. "For Johnny."
"No," Astrid snarls, stepping forward—
Crack.
The butt of a rifle smashes into her skull. The sound splits the air. Astrid collapses, her blade vanishing as she hits the ground, blood trickling from her temple.
"No!" My scream tears out, but my body's wrenched tighter, forced down to the floor.
Asher is still unmoving beside me.
Gods, please.
"Take your shot," Jace growls, shifting back to human, clothes torn, body trembling but his voice steady. "Do it."
Darlene's lips curl. "Brave, aren't we?"
"Don't!" Winston's voice cuts sharply. "Take me instead."
"Uncle, no!" Jace shouts, voice breaking.
Winston doesn't falter. "He's young. Inexperienced. I'm the better trade. Take me."
"Winston—"
"Uncle—"
"As you wish," Darlene says.
Her voice is low, almost gentle. She drops the crossbow with a clatter, but her hand flashes to the gun at her hip lightning fast.
The shot cracks.
Time stops.
My heart seizes, my scream tangled in my throat as the bullet finds its mark. Straight to the chest.
Winston staggers, eyes flaring coyote yellow, a broken howl ripping from him, wild and agonized, and then his body collapses.
Still.
Lifeless.
"NO!" Jace's roar splits the room. He lunges at her, but gunfire erupts behind him. Mercenaries unload, bullets tearing into him in a storm of impact. His body jerks with every hit, falling hard, growling through the pain. Not dead, thank gods not dead, but broken down under a dozen rounds.
"Enough." Darlene's command slices the air. She motions to retreat, her mercs snapping to obey. Before she turns, her gaze finds me. One last, unreadable look, cold and sharp as glass.
The mercenaries shove me forward before leaving, my arms aching from their grip. I stumble, catching myself on the floorboards.
And then they're gone.
When I lift my head, the bar is quiet.
Astrid unconscious. Jace bleeding. Asher still down.
And Winston… Winston is dead.