“Damn. We got the big gun,” Raze murmured before stepping forward to clasp forearms with their commander. “Syre.” “An entire subdivision?” Syre asked without preamble. He stood on the tarmac with the wind blowing gently through his hair, his head-to-toe black attire making him nearly one with the darkness. A beautiful and deadly dark prince, Vash thought whimsically. Regal, powerful, and lethal. “That’s Elijah’s take.” Raze glanced at the three lycans and four minions disembarking. “Good thing we brought two cars.” “Where is the Alpha?” “Snoozing. It’s damn near two in the morning. Unlike us, he needs sleep.” Syre acknowledged that with a nod. “What’s your take, Raze?” “Same as his. Place gave me the willies. It’s like a ghost town.” Syre looked at Vash. “I haven’t scoped it out yet, but if Elijah says it’s squirrely, then it’s squirrely. We’ve never faced a cleanup of this magnitude before,” she said grimly. “How do you keep a lid on an entire neighborhood vanishing overnight?”
