The moment the heavy steel doors of Hell's Watch slammed shut behind us, the sound echoed like a final verdict. I sucked in a sharp breath, more like a desperate, rasping gasp, trying to drag the cold city air into my lungs. It tasted like freedom. Asphalt. Winter smoke. Wet concrete. All of it a thousand times better than the thick, metallic scent of Hell's Watch.
Clara threw her head back dramatically and inhaled. "Finally, I fucking swear I think I just aged five years in there, Nate."
Ryan groaned loudly, rubbing his forehead like a man recovering from trauma. "Five years? Try fifty fucking years, my soul left my body the moment that man, or should I say that creature, looked at us."
I stepped closer, my tone sharpened to a professional blade. "Ryan, he is a criminal, and that is all that matters, and you better fucking forget any thoughts you were about to voice."
Ryan held his hands up like I was holding him at gunpoint. "Hey, hey, hey. I am just saying forensics requires objective observation or threat analysis, and that man is a walking -"
Clara cut in, raising a brow. "Yes. Objective assessment and not third assessment, please stay on the correct side of science, please."
Sophie snorted, arms crossed, and a grin absolutely wicked. "Captain, are you scolding your team, or yourself? Because judging by the way your jaw clenched back there, I would say you were affected as much as we were."
I shot her a glare sharp enough to slice through concrete. "I am always in control."
"Control. Control. Control," she whispered under her breath. "Say it until you believe it."
Ryan snickered. "Totally, and that is definitely why your pulse was pounding like a construction drill, right, Captain? Just adrenaline from classified information."
I stopped walking and turned. "Ryan," I said quietly. Too quietly. "One more comment about appearances, 'pulses,' or anything remotely anatomical, and I will personally reassign you to paperwork duty for the next six months. CSI is built on facts, evidence, and professionalism. Understood?"
Ryan froze, then nodded so fast he looked like a bobblehead. "Crystal"
Clara exhaled, relieved. "Thank God, we're finally aligned."
Sophie was not aligned at all. She tilted her head, mischief glinting in her eyes. "Just to clarify for future reference, Captain, you do realize that the man commands a room, right? Tattoos, posture, sheer gravitational pull? That is not evidence, which is fucking physics."
"Sophie," I warned, "one more sentence-"
She put her hands up. "Fine, fine! Professionalism, and I will tattoo it on my forehead."
Ryan whispered, "Same font as Blackwood's chest tat?"
I elbowed him hard, and his yelp was immensely satisfying, and Clara gave me a look that said, You are barely holding it together and we all know it, while also kindly pretending she did not notice. But I noticed. I noticed everything,g including the way Adrian Blackwood's gray eyes still lingered in my mind like smoke. His slow, deliberate movements and that damn smirk seemed to press themselves directly against my thoughts.
Clara cleared her throat. "Nate, we head to the tech lab first, and Ryan's surveillance cross-reference. Sophie gang activity, dealer networks, Chimera affiliations, as we need everything ready before we contact Adrian again."
"Understood," Ryan said, standing straighter like he was at a military inspection, and Sophie nodded, already tapping away on her tablet like she was hacking NASA.
I exhaled, trying to purge prison-born heat from my chest. "Adrian Blackwood is irrelevant outside Hell's Watch."
Sophie snorted. Actually snorted. "For now, Captain, and that is the part that kills me."
I ignored her and kept walking, focusing on the city's chaos. Horns. Sirens. People arguing. A dog barking at a pigeon, and perfect noise to drown out the heavy memory of Hell's Watch.
Clara bumped my arm lightly. "We focus on the problem and get it sorted. "
I nodded, though my mind was absolutely not quiet. It flashed back to Adrian's posture the lazy dominance, the slow smirk, the way he leaned against the wall like he owned the entire prison.
Ryan leaned against a lamppost dramatically as I passed. "As much as I want to focus, I cannot forget that the man is built like domination incarnate. Physically, Psychologically, and Biblically."
Sophie burst out laughing, "Ryan. Your imagination is a national threat; can you fucking please stick to data or tattoos?"
"Ah, yes," Ryan said, wiggling his eyebrows. "The venom serpent, was it? Wrapped around his."
"Finish that sentence," I said, "and I will put you in the evidence freezer."
Sophie slapped his shoulder. "Shut up before he murders you."
Ryan grinned. "Worth it."
Sophie peeked over my shoulder as we walked. "You know, the defensive tone is not fooling anyone. It is charming, actually. Terrifying, but charming."
"I am not defensive," I snapped. "I am maintaining discipline."
Clara snorted quietly. "Sure. Captain. Whatever helps you sleep tonight."
"Clara," I warned.
She softened, voice calm but pointed. "Come on"
"He's a professional obsession risk," Sophie added cheerfully.
I glared at both of them. "I am not discussing this with the two of you."
Ryan mumbled, "Tell that to your pulse," but at least had the sense to do it quietly.
We continued walking as Sophie typed while Ryan analysed and Clara stayed ahead like a redheaded drill sergeant. Eventually, my pulse slowed slightly, but Adrian remained lodged in my skull. The way he dismissed every question and still somehow gave answers. The smirk that said I know you felt that too, Infuriating and Intoxicating.
We reached the SUV. Ryan hopped into the driver's seat, Clara in the passenger, Sophie in the back. I slid in last, grateful for the metal walls that separated me from Hell's Watch.
Ryan buckled his seatbelt with unnecessary enthusiasm. "So, Captain. Question."
"No," I said.
"You didn't even let me ask!"
"Still no."
He huffed. "Fine. Sophie, ask for me."
Sophie leaned forward between the seats. "On a scale of one to ten-"
"No," I repeated.
"How likely are you to break a pencil thinking about Blackwood before we get to the lab?"
I slammed my head lightly against the back of my seat. "Sophie, I swear on everything holy-"
Clara turned around, pressing her lips together to hide a laugh. "Come on, Nate, get it out of your system."
"Fuck" I cursed at them.
Ryan pointed forward dramatically. "Captain, respectfully, we are doing deeply important psychological groundwork here. You are clearly in denial."
"Enough," I warned.
Sophie shrugged. "Denial looks good on you, though."
I stared out the window. "I hate all of you."
"No, you don't," Clara said gently. "You love us."
Ryan patted my shoulder like I was a grieving widow. "We are here for you. Through this difficult attraction crisis."
I choked. "RYAN"
"Obsession difficulty?" Sophie offered.
"INFATUATION EMERGENCY," Ryan declared.
Clara burst out laughing. "Okay, okay enough."
Ryan saluted. "Ye,s ma'am. But for the record, Captain was awed by Adrian Blackwood."
"I WAS NOT"
Sophie whistled low. "Oh, he yelled. That is guilt yelling."
I groaned loudly, and Ryan started the SUV.
"Drive," I snapped.
He drove as the city blurred by in streaks of light and noise. Outside, life continued as if nothing had happened. Inside the SUV, my team was plotting my psychological downfall. But beneath the chaos, the jokes, the teasing, the laughter, we were a unit, and Adrian had managed to screw with us.