“Who are we tracking down, Shane?” “Hawk,” I say firmly and reach into my phone to find a picture of the furball. “Do you mean Havok? The drug dealer?” Rhys shakes raindrops from his cap. “Hawk. My cat.” I show him one of the dozen photos Lennox texted me of him acting cute when I’m not home. “My wife’s cat.” Blade glances at Jett and I catch the subtle twitch of a smirk. Rhys crosses his arms, his eyebrows furrowed. “Shane, you dragged me and my trackers away from protecting our weapons for a cat?” “This isn’t a joke,” I growl, stepping closer. “You find our enemies hiding in sewers and
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