Page 55 of Monster Mania

YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT OUR ANGEL ALONE.

Then Jackhammer saw the bed. The Halloween card hadn't been there before. “Ghost.” Ghost followed his gaze, and they moved at the same time. Ghost reached it first. He picked up the old card and opened it to find three words written inside.

TRICK OR TREAT

Ghost's hand shook. Jackhammer stared at those words, and something hot and vicious tore through him. They had taken her from inside the clubhouse—from right under his fucking nose.

Monster appeared in the doorway with two brothers behind him. “Report,” he shouted.

Ghost turned. “They took her.”

Monster's expression hardened. “No shit. How?”

“Through the window,” Ghost said.

“That’s impossible,” Monster insisted. Jackhammer walked over and looked outside. They were on the second floor, and there was no ladder and no obvious way down, but there were scuff marks on the sill.

“Rope,” he said. Ghost joined him, and Jackhammer pointed. “See it?”

Ghost nodded, and Monster swore. “One of the prospects found a grappling hook behind the bushes. Whoever did this knew exactly which room she was in.”

“They've been watching us,” Ghost said.

Jackhammer looked at the Halloween card. “No.”

Ghost frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“They've been doing more than watching,” Hammer said. Jackhammer took the card from him. “How did they know about this?”

“Angel told us about it,” Hammer reminded. “Up here,” Ghost went still. Monster's whole demeanor changed, and Jackhammer continued. “She told us about the Halloween card in this room. Less than an hour ago.” That was worse than the open window and worse than the photographs of them in the room because someone had heard them talking. That was the only explanation.

Ghost immediately began searching the room for a bug—under the dresser, behind the television, and beneath the bed. Jackhammer moved to the lamp, and Monster checked the smoke detector. “Found it,” Monster said. He held something tiny between his two fingers. It looked like a listening device.

Jackhammer stared at it. “How long do you think it’s been here?”

“Don't know,” Monster said.

Ghost looked murderous. “They heard everything.” Which meant that they knew about Angel's father's house, the key, Raven's Hollow, the fake graveyard—everything.

Monster crushed the device beneath his boot. “We need to have church, now.”

“I don't have time for fucking church,” Ghost snapped.

Monster grabbed his kutte. “You want Angel back alive?” Ghost stared at him but didn’t answer. “Then use your fucking head.”

For a second, Jackhammer thought Ghost might swing on his president. Instead, he jerked free. “I’ll give you five minutes.”

Monster nodded. “Five.” They headed downstairs. Jackhammer stopped at the bottom step. Larry was still sitting outside with his ridiculous black cape fluttering in the night breeze. A few hours ago, Angel had laughed at him. Jackhammer could still hear it, and he wanted that sound back. He wanted her standing beside him, giving him shit. He wanted her refusing to unpack her bag. He wanted her deliberately calling him Jackhammer because she knew it irritated him. And God, he wanted her in his bed between him and Ghost. He wanted tomorrow with her—and next week, Halloween and God damn Christmas, too. Fuck. He wanted all of it, and he'd barely fucking met her. That realization should've scared him, but it didn't. Losing her scared the shit out of him, though.

“Hammer.” Ghost stood at the door. Jackhammer followed him inside. Monster had a map open across the, and Mouse on speaker.

“Tell them,” Monster ordered.

Mouse didn't waste time. “The tracker on Angel's SUV never moved.”

Ghost frowned. “What tracker?”

“The one I had a prospect put on it after you brought her here,” Monster said.