Candace cuddled against Torren’s side and pushed a small green button that said play. God, she smelled good. Shampoo and sleep, and his mate was going to get sausage too, when they were done here. He grinned wickedly just thinking about it. They were trying for a baby now and having a helluva lot of fun practicing.
The blank screen morphed to a scene that stopped Torren’s heart. It was a massive room with concrete walls and closed hanger doors along the back. There was a red light flashing over one of them, and the walls were charred and almost black from the scorch marks. There was a bed, no sheets, just a metal frame and a mattress, and on it sat a ghost. At least that’s what Torren thought at first.
“Oh, my gosh,” Candace whispered as Vyr lifted his shaved head and stared directly into the camera. One of his eyes was human blue, but one was the silver of his dragon. Fuck. He looked exhausted, pale, and his fists were clenched on his knees like he was pissed.
“I said I don’t want to do interviews,” he growled in a voice that echoed around the room with power.
“Your father has requested this,” a woman’s voice sounded from behind the camera.
Vyr’s hands clenched even tighter, and his face twisted in rage.
“What are your feelings after being here for six months?”
“I don’t have feelings. Never did.”
There was a scribbling noise as the interviewer jotted down notes. “I’ve read your file and am aware you have had some issues with authority. What can this facility do to make this experience easier on you?”
“You mean what can they do to control me better?”
“Sure.”
Vyr ripped his gaze away from her and didn’t answer.
She tried again. “If you could have one thing here, for comfort, what would it be?”
His voice cracked on the answer. “My crew.”
Those two words gutted Torren. Vyr looked like shit, like he’d been going through literal hell, and he was admitting he needed them. He’d never admitted to needing anyone. This was really bad.
The interviewer’s voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. “They’re trying to take your dragon. If you want to say something, request something, ask for help…do it now.”
When Vyr slid his half-human, half-dragon gaze to the woman, his mask of rage had fallen. He swallowed hard and said, “Breaking and entering.”
“What?”
“Vandalism. Illegal fights.”
Vyr blinked slowly and locked that fiery gaze on the camera. There was power in his voice as he ordered, “Come. Here.”
The camera clicked to black.
“Holy shit,” Nox murmured.
“What does this mean?” Nevada asked in a small, scared voice.
The handwriting on the address suddenly clicked into place. It belonged to Damon Daye. He’d helped put Vyr in that awful place, and now he was trying to help his son? Torren needed to figure out what Damon’s end game was before they did this, for the protection of his crew.
Candace was staring up at Torren with a grim set to her mouth, as if she already knew where he was going to go with this.
“Seriously, what did he mean?” Nevada asked louder.
Torren pulled Candace tighter against his ribs and sighed. “He just listed things that would get us minimal time in shifter prison.”
“Meaning?” Candace asked, but her voice was full of steel like she already knew. She already looked on board with this.
“Meaning, we can’t break into that facility and get him out. But our alpha just ordered us to come save his dragon.”
“We’re getting arrested?” Nox asked a little too excitedly. “I’m in!”
Nevada looked nervous as hell, but she lifted two fingers in the air. “It’s Vyr. He looks bad. He’s ours. I’m in.”
Candace gently clenched her teeth onto Torren’s bicep. She eased back and then shook her head at him with a small grin on her lips. “Well, if we’re goin’ to Hell, we might as well do it thoroughly. I’m in.”
“Yeaaah!” Nox crowed. “Let’s go fuck some shit up! I’ve got, like, thirty ideas already. We need to find a swan-sitter for Mr. Diddles.”
Torren chuckled and roughly ran his hands through his hair. God, they couldn’t just be well-behaved for any amount of time before they found trouble.
But then again? That’s what they’d signed up for the day they made this crew. This was the motherfuckin’ Z-Team. Total screw-ups and proud. They weren’t built to be a quiet crew.
“All right,” Torren murmured, allowing a slow, wicked smile as he looked around at his people, his friends, his family group…his mate. “Let’s go save the Red Dragon.”