Page 4 of Peak’s Code

Maeve didn’t hesitate. “I disappear into the night. You’ll never see me again. I’ve come here to warn you about the shipment, and my job here is done.”

“And the shipment?” Warden asked.

She met his eyes dead-on. “Becomes your problem instead of mine.” Warden cursed under his breath.

Peak exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “You’re asking us to trust your word. Why should we do that?”

Maeve’s voice softened just a fraction. “I’m asking you to decide whether I look like a woman who wants to start a war or one trying to stop it from happening.”

For a long moment, Peak didn’t say anything. His gaze dropped to the cuffs, then back to her face. Something shifted in him, but she couldn’t tell if it was uncertainty, interest, or even respect. Whatever happened next, she knew one thing for certain—Peak was about to become a very big problem for her. And she had the sinking suspicion she didn’t need a problem like him.

Peak

Peak didn't answer her; he simply stared. Most people couldn't hold his gaze for more than a few seconds before looking away. Maeve Carter didn't even blink, and that bothered him—not because she was pretty, which she was. Not because she was cuffed to a table, which she still was. It bothered him because she looked like someone who'd already decided exactly how this conversation would end. Peak hated people who thought they already knew the outcome before it happened.

Finally, he broke the silence. "What’s in the shipment?"

Maeve's expression didn't change. "If I tell you, your club becomes involved."

"We're already involved,” he shouted.

"No." She shook her head. "Right now you're curious, but you don’t have a horse in the race yet." She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "The moment I tell you what's inside those containers, you become targets." The room fell quiet again. Even Warden was still.

Peak watched every tiny movement she made. Her breathing stayed even. Her pulse didn't jump in her neck, and her eyes stayed focused on him. The woman had no nervous tells. If she was lying, she was better than anyone he'd ever interrogated, and that alone made him nervous.

"What kind of targets are we talking?" Peak asked.

"The kind that disappear,” Maeve said.

Warden laughed. "Ain't nobody making Grave Prowlers disappear."

Maeve finally looked at him. "No." Her voice was calm. "But they can disappear your daughters." The smile vanished from Warden's face. "They can disappear your wives." Nobody spoke, and Peak felt the air in the room grow noticeably colder. She wasn't threatening them. In fact, she was remembering something—he knew the difference. He'd seen enough grief in his life to recognize when it walked into a room.

"You've seen it,” he whispered to her. It wasn't a question.

Maeve looked back at him. "Yes."

"Who did they make disappear from your life?" Peak asked.

She hesitated. "My sister." Peak's eyes narrowed as he tried to decide if she was telling the truth or not. She looked away from him for the first time since he'd entered the room.

"You've been holding that back,” he said.

"I've been holding back everything,” she admitted.

Warden pushed away from the wall. "Captain told us to find out if you're a liability."

Maeve laughed. "I am."

Peak frowned. "What does that mean?"

"I'm absolutely a liability." She looked directly at him again. "Anyone standing near me becomes one, too."

Peak folded his arms over his chest. "That's a hell of a sales pitch."

"You asked, and I’m assuming that you want the truth,” she said.

"I asked if you were a threat,” Peak reminded her.