Oak Mayfield's gang headquarters, unlike Cyrus's stylish bar, was a dingy old warehouse with thin walls and big windows. The town was full of old deserted buildings like it, so it would've made a rather inconspicuous building, if not for the loud graffiti branding the place with the gang's name. It was dark out by the time Spiro and Theo got there, and judging by all the cars parked in the back, they were in the right place. Their car of choice was an undercover police van, loaded with any and all the equipment they could possibly need. They had placed cameras in various places around the warehouse outside before the meeting (Theo was still surprised it had been so easy. Nobody had even been guarding the place), and now it was up to Spiro to get close enough for them to overhear. Theo would remain in the van, watching the cameras and communicating to his partner through an earpiece. Once Theo gave him the all clear, Spiro headed for the building, checking the windows for any sign of the meeting. They didn't want to have to go inside, knowing that the place would likely be crawling with members. This was a stealth mission, not a suicide.

"See anything?" Theo whispered. He wasn't sure why he was whispering, seeing as Spiro was the only one who could hear him. It just seemed appropriate. Spiro glanced in the window, spotting a circle of people around a table.

"Maybe. Let's see," He took off the small microphone he used to talk to Theo and held it up closer to the window, dropping down so that no one inside could see him. Back in the van, Theo cranked the volume of the mic, straining his ears to hear the conversation.

"What are we going to do now that Oak's gone?" A raspy voice asked. "He was always the one with the plans."

"Maybe," A woman's voice countered. "But we have a new one."

"To do what?"

"We finally have a way to do what Oak was always too cowardly to attempt. Take out Cyrus Mossberg and his stupid gang." Theo froze. This wasn't what the meeting was supposed to be about— the Rebels must have shifted leadership faster than they had thought, if they were already moving on to new plans. He listened closer, his stomach rolling with nervousness.

"Oak wasn't a coward, he was being smart. Cyrus Mossberg is untouchable; even the cops have barely gotten close to him. How the hell are we supposed to take him down?" Raspy man demanded.

"That's what you think. But Mossberg is getting messier. I heard he got shot just a few weeks ago. If the cops can get that close, imagine what we could do. Especially with a little help." Someone snapped their fingers. "Bring him in," There was a pause, and the microphone just barely picked up the sound of footsteps as someone new entered the room. "This is Marcus Trenor. He's our new spy for the Hunters."

It was as if time itself had stopped, Theo was so still. Marcus Trenor. Marcus. Marcus was a traitor. And Cyrus had no idea. Some part of Theo hoped that maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe it wasn't the Marcus he was thinking of. Maybe he was wrong.

"So?" Raspy guy kept talking while Theo tried to wrap his mind around what the hell he was hearing. "A random spy won't do us any good, and this one looks like he's half dead anyways. What the hell happened to you?"

"I made the mistake of challenging Mossberg's honor. Whoever does that, apparently, has to fight him." Marcus said.

Nope. No doubt. This was the guy. The man Cyrus had been excited about, the one he'd looked forward to training, to knowing better, one he trusted—Theo's nervousness switched to rage. Cold, undying rage. How dare he? How dare this man, how dare any of them even think about betraying Cyrus? Didn't they know who he was? Didn't Marcus know how good Cyrus was to him, to all the Hunters? Other gangsters had to worry about getting killed by their bosses if they stepped out of line; Hunters never did. And this was how Marcus was choosing to repay that trust? Theo clenched his fists.

"What's this plan of yours, Lena? And what's it got to do with him?" Raspy guy seemed to be the one asking all the questions they needed to know.

"Isn't it obvious? Marcus has infiltrated them. He has gained Mossberg's trust. All he has to do now is get the man alone and kill him! No Cyrus Mossberg, no Hunters."

"What makes you think he's capable of killing him?"

"Oh, I'm capable," Marcus interrupted. "Hell, look at me. I've already got all the motivation I need. And without him, the gang will fall apart. No one else knows the secrets. No one else knows what the hell is even going on, and they're all too stupid to question it. He's the brains of the entire operation—why do you think the cops are trying to get him so bad? Even they know that all they have to do to take the Hunters down is get Mossberg out of the picture. The cops might even thank us if we kill the guy for them."

Like hell they would. Theo didn't know what he'd do if they hurt Cyrus, but thanking them would definitely not be on the list. Brutal dismemberment came to mind. He was boiling with rage, glaring at the screens as if they would burst into flames. Part of him had forgotten how to breathe. They were actually plotting to kill Cyrus. His Cyrus. He'd always seen his huband as someone that couldn't be touched. No one got under his skin, let alone thought about actually hurting him. Maybe that was the reason Theo had fallen so hard for him. He had been the only person that Cyrus had let in, and Theo hadn't been afraid of what he had found. The thought of someone harming Cyrus made his blood run cold. It was a horrible feeling, like learning about a dead dog. It just made you feel rotten inside. The feeling overtook Theo so bad that he didn't notice the guard circling the outside of the headquarters until a loud shout came through the microphone.

"COP!" Theo jumped and glanced at the camera, only to see Spiro grab the mic and make a run for it, guys headed right for him.

"Shit," Theo swore.