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He was driving the SUV, and the Impala was following him.
    Everyone sharing the SUV with him was silent, as if the world around them would shatter like glass if anyone uttered a word.
    For Archer, the analogy worked. It felt like his word was a thin pane of glass with huge cracks running through it and he had his full weight balanced on his hands as he lay on the glass.
    He needed to get his She back--that was an instinctual imperative—but he wanted Scarlet back. His chest felt like someone had planted a bomb in the center, then thrown the dead man’s switch. There was a gaping hole there, and only Scarlet’s presence could fill and heal it.
    The need was driving him so hard that he shifted gears and pressed the gas pedal down further.
    Archer didn’t see the group of people on the road in front of the SUV until it was almost too late. He swung the steering wheel hard left, not touching the break, so the SUV wouldn’t skid.
    The gravel on the embankment slowed the vehicle down enough for Archer to stop the car.
    The impala had had better luck with the near collision. Even though they had been moving at the same speed Archer was, his wild reactions had given them warning and they had a chance to slow down.
    Archer flung the door of the SUV open and got out, stamping his feet onto the ground.
    “What the fuck,” he spat making his way to the people in the road.
    Common sense, in the form of Sophia’s hand on his arm, stopped him from barreling into a bad situation.
    One of the people on the road leveled a glock at Archer, and pulled the trigger.
    Archer spun, pulling Sophia down to the ground with him.
    Sure, the bullet wouldn’t kill either one of them, but it would damn well hurt.
    Archer rolled, gaining his feet in a moment, and assessed the danger that faced them as a group.
    There were twenty people in a loose semi-circle, some Archer knew—on sight—were human.
    “David, you damn idiot, I said hold your fire.” The leader, a big guy—hyena by the smell of him—cuffed the shooter on the back of the head, then stepped forward.
    “I’m looking for Archer of the Lycan.” He scanned the group, and as he did, they stepped forward to form their usual phalanx behind Archer.
    Archer took one step forward and crossed his arms over his wide chest. “What do you want?”
    “We want the pyro.” The hyena took another step forward, his shoulders thrown back, but it was bravado. Archer could smell the fear and tension on the hyena’s skin.
    “Scarlet is plenty popular,” Erik quipped.
    Archer didn’t even turn his head. “Shut it, Erik.”
    “What do you want with the pyro?”
    “I have been told to take her in.”
    “In where?” Archer uncrossed his arms, he had a feeling there was a fight brewing. Hell, he knew there was a fight brewing.
    “Sorry, that’s need to know.”
    “Well, I need to know and I won’t let you near the pyro until I do.”
    “But—” Erik was cut off by Heath’s elbow in his side.
    “Ha!” The hyena barked out. “Do you think I’d fall for that? You have no plans to give me the pyro, so I’m here to take her.”
    “You and what army?” Erik had recovered enough air in his lungs to yell that.
    “He’s right,” Archer confirmed. “That rag-tag bunch of people you have there are pretty useless, since most of them are human.”
    A low growl trickled from the hyena’s throat. “I trained them. They are good.”
    He didn’t wait for Archer to scoff at that. Without taking his eyes off Archer, he spoke to his people. “Kill them all, but find the pyro. They are hiding her somewhere.”
    As one, the group attacked. The Outsiders rushed forward to meet the attack.
    “Let me disable the guns.” Tate pushed to the front of the group, and straightened his arms in front of him, cupping his hands, one palm above the other as if he were holding a ball between them. He focused and energy, glowing gold in the predawn light, started to form between his hands. He flung it out