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can feel someone's intentions. Ask any experienced special ops member about it, and he'll have a hundred stories about sentries turning around at nothing and looking straight at them. No sound, no scent, just the feeling of being hunted creeping up their spines. Call it what you would like—ESP, collective unconscious, whatever. The fact was it existed, and it seemed to be most active during high stress situations.
     
    That's why Elias and Eric stuck to the Nova. Tomas might suddenly feel the ambush ahead, and take off and bolt. In that event, they were the ones responsible for riding him down and taking him out on their own.
     
    The Nova hit the entrance ramp for the freeway and began chasing Duffy west. The other riders would have made it to the freeway by quicker means, and should now be well ahead of the Nova and Duffy, running hard to prepare for the kill. The limo should be on its way back to its garage, and the girls returning back to their homes.
     
    They were just outside the city limits when the Nova slowed down a bit and let Duffy get further ahead of him. Tomas apparently knew how to follow someone, which made sense, him being a cop. He was probably better at it than any of the Wolves, including Eric and himself. Elias slowed down with the Nova, falling back enough that they wouldn't spook Tomas.
     
    They ran herd on Tomas for nearly twenty miles, and then Duffy, far ahead now, ran into the dirt way between west-bound and east-bound, bounced back up on the East bound side, and opened that racing Porsche motor of his up full bore. Elias swore he heard Duffy screaming Whaa-hoooo!
     
    The trike lifted up. The front end left the ground as the back tires torched with power. Duffy road the trike that way for over a hundred yards before he could get the front end back down.
     
    The Nova kept going west much longer than it should have. Tomas was supposed to chase Duffy back toward the city—the double blind convincing him that Chelsea was actually in the limo, and Duffy just took him for a stroll, the idea being that Tomas would be so worked up he would never see the ambush coming—one of Eric's little spins. But the Nova kept going, and the trike was running faster than Elias expected it to run. The damn thing was fucking fast.
     
    Elias felt his gun, and was just about to give his V-rod its wind and ride Tomas down, when the Nova suddenly cut into the dirt divider and came back up on the east-bound side with surprising grace, and a shit load of power. Smoke poured out of the back tires as the obviously powered-up, after-stock engine came to life and was given its freedom to run.
     
    Elias watched it go, slowing down to cut the dirt divider himself with Eric. It looked like this was going to be a pack kill after all, which was fine with Elias just as long as the job got done.
     
    Just as he was ready to go, Elias' hairs on the back of his neck rose up and he turned in time to see the Nova cut back across the dirt way and come up on the west-bound side behind them.
     
    "Shit," Elias said, watching the same show as before of smoking tires, and then the Nova was suddenly hurtling at them—a clear and present danger with decreasing range.
     
    He jerked his head toward Eric. Their eyes met, and the both of them gunned their bikes as hard as they could to bring them back up to speed and keep ahead of the Nova, which was gaining on them with alarming fury.
     
    "Fuck, he figured it out. goddamn it," Elias growled.
     
    Not only had Tomas seemed to figure out the ambush plan, but he must have also spotted him and Eric behind him as well. Elias had no doubt that Tomas' intention right now was to run them down, and as nice as a Harley is, it didn't stand a chance in a ramming contest with a fast-moving Nova.
     
    It was just about three in the morning, and there were no vehicles other than the Nova and themselves to be seen. Duffy was long out of sight, and so was the rest of the pack. Eric and Elias were on their