The warehouse stank of rust, oil, and old secrets. Kane limped behind us, bandaged arm pressed to his chest, his eyes darting at every sound like he expected Jason to step out of the shadows.

But it wasn’t Jason waiting in the center of the room.

It was Dev.

“You’re late,” Dev muttered. He didn’t look at me, didn’t look at Jaxon. His gaze was fixed on the folder like it might bite him. “And we don’t have much time.”

Jaxon released me slowly, stepping forward. “What is ...