LUCAS
Clayton has his arms crossed over his chest as he stares at the fabric ceiling of the debriefing tent, absorbing the thirty-minute explanation of the last several months of our life.
"I didn't expect the Fae to be so…" He squints. "Prevalent? In this area. I only know of one in Aspen. She helped keep some of our systems running. Some sort of magic hacker. She's just a kid, but she's got a good head on her shoulders. A little squirrely, though."
"Squirrely?"
"The kid's terrified of getting caught by someone, but we don't know who she's running from. Guessing it's this New Order."
"Join the club," I mutter. Westwood was always a strong pack, and I thought we could stand against any enemy. Until we couldn't.
