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parked a block away like he’d done at Alma’s place. Boone had come this far by playing along; he wasn’t going to question it too heavily.

Leaning against the sliding doors, Jagger towered over the group. He was dressed like the others. Dark, long-sleeved shirt and tactical pants. On the streets, people would wonder whether they were law enforcement or EMS workers. But this was Vegas. They might not get spared more than a glance.

Jagger’s stern gaze dimmed when he spotted Sierra. “Finally, we can get this over with.”

He flipped a folder onto the coffee table. Harlowe and Urban didn’t make a move for it. Had they gone through it when Boone was upstairs?

Sierra walked to the folder and flipped through the contents. “Shari Smith. Twenty-nine. Vegas license and Idaho birth certificate.”

“You’re not allowed to go anywhere,” Jagger stated. His arrogant tone demoted his likability in Boone’s mind. The only other words Boone had heard him say were, “Go get her. I don’t have all day.” So his likability had been at ground level to start.

“What if we need to go somewhere?” Boone crowded behind Sierra as if he could protect her from the warrior’s glare. Were these three some form of military? A private security company? And the angels and demon talk just code?

Sierra didn’t fit the mold, but perhaps that was why she was on the outs.

Over a week of this shit and he still couldn’t work out any details. Proving them would be harder.

“You don’t need to go anywhere,” Jagger said evenly.

Boone’s patience snapped. He was irritated with the new guy and he was frustrated that Jagger had something to do with why Sierra didn’t want her former team to know she was pregnant. They might not take her into consideration when she decided what she wanted to do about the baby.

“Look, since she fell or whatever the hell you call it, she’s been good. She notified you when trouble came to town and she didn’t expect you to save her ass.” Boone stalked closer to Jagger. “If she wants to go get some clothes that don’t look like a garage sale puked all over her, she should be able to.”

Jagger’s brows dropped lower with each sentence. “It’s not up to you.” He pushed off the door and crossed his arms, biceps bulging. Was it a show of power? Boone could do the same. “Boone Reamer. Five years as a cop, another six ATF. Three of those years spent undercover. Until your wife—”

“I know my own fucking story.”

“—and kid were killed when the undercover operation was busted—by your wife. It took another four years to clean up the legal mess. And here you are, wondering why I won’t let you or Sierra take any lead, or have any flexibility where this mission is concerned. People end up maimed or dead around the both of you.”

Boone punched Jagger. A solid right hook to the cheek. Jagger’s head flung back but he didn’t move otherwise, as if he’d expected it.

Boone’s chest heaved and his arms were yanked behind him. Telling Sierra his story had lifted ten tons of guilt off his shoulders. He’d always carry the blame, but when he’d verbalized it, it had sounded like the tragic event it was. Surrounded by people who claimed to be angels and demons, he’d owned that he and his wife were only human. And they’d epically fucked up like only humans could.

But having Jagger rattle off what had happened, like he was reciting some file about a stranger? Fuck, no. He wasn’t putting up with it.

Urban growled into Boone’s ear. “Settle the fuck down.”

“He baited him,” Sierra said, defending Boone’s actions. “We all know it.”

“Things are finally getting interesting,” Sandeen drawled.

“Calm down,” Harlowe snapped. “All of you. Boone, sit. Jagger, back to the door. Urban, you have to let Boone go first.”

Boone’s arms were released, but he didn’t sit. He shook his throbbing hand. Hardheaded bastard.

“So now that we have that out of the way.” Jagger worked his jaw. A red mark on Jagger’s cheek was the only sign he’d been hit. “You see how this looks to us, never mind the fact that we’re all risking our existence being in the same room as Sierra.”

“For speaking her name,” Urban said.

“You aren’t here for me,” Sierra said tightly.

Jagger rolled his hard gaze to her. “You wanna rethink that? You were one of us. We trusted you with our lives. Dionna hasn’t found a replacement that can work with human technology like you, and until she finds a warrior as good as you are, we’re working short—and we were already short since Bryant became the director. And we all know how that happened.”

Sierra’s jaw clenched and Boone connected the dots. Want me to tell Director Richter you said hi? Director Richter could no longer be director because he’d been hurt thanks to Sierra’s betrayal.

Jagger continued. “It’s me, these two, Dionna, and Bronx. Five warriors, Sierra. Five warriors, two of us with mates who are at risk because we’re helping you. Because after everything you did, we still want to believe you when you tell us something is wrong.”

“Then don’t help me,” Sierra said hoarsely. “Let me and Boone go. I’ll stay hidden.”

“As soon as you go, he will too.” Harlowe jerked her head toward Sandeen. The demon snapped a puzzle piece in place, pretending he was ignoring them.

“Felicia’s working the case with the senate,” Jagger said. “We can’t ignore fallen like we used to. Not after my father.”

Sierra’s face paled. Boone clenched his muscles to keep from going to her. She’d made horrible choices, and instead of holding it against her, he saw a woman dealing with them by herself. Anyone else involved had gotten the easy way out. Being the one left behind sucked.

“Between the five of us,” Jagger continued, “we’ve kept tabs on the club, which isn’t much since we can’t get close. Demons are all over the place. But as far as we can tell, it’s business as usual. I

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