Rubbing her bare arms to settle the goosebumps, Aspen found herself wishing she’d pulled on more than a mere tee. “Thermostat was on its coldest setting until Bailey turned it off just now. Which it shouldn’t have been, because I switched it off when I moved in with Camden. He can back me up on that.”
Farrell scratched his nape. “Seems kind of weird that Wayland would break in here just to fuck with it. That couldn’t have been what happened tonight. It would take more than fifteen minutes to get the place this cold.”
He was right on that. It was freaking Baltic weather in here. Aspen rubbed at her arms again. “Then he broke in on a different occasion and did this.”
“Or maybe used a key,” said Farrell. “Wayland managed to get a copy once before. He could have done it again.”
“We changed the lock after the Jerome incident,” Tate reminded him. “What did you do with the new key, Aspen?”
“I hid it in Camden’s apartment so no one could sneakily grab and make a copy of it.” Aspen hadn’t wanted to take any chances. “When I retrieved it just now, it was exactly where I left it.” In a fake tin of beans at the back of a kitchen cupboard. If Wayland had taken the key even temporarily, she’d have known, because she’d glued the can shut. There’d have been evidence that the seal was broken at some point.
Just then, the living room light flicked off, plunging them into darkness. Mere seconds later, the kitchen spotlights were on. Then they were off again, and the living room light came back on.
Luke frowned at Aspen. “You got an issue with your electrics?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Camden’s muscles went tight as a thought arrowed through his brain. “Can you control the lights from an app on your phone?”
She blinked. “Um, yes.”
“And the thermostat?” he asked.
“Yes. The alarm, too.” And then her gaze sharpened. “You think Wayland is doing this remotely?”
“There are apps available that enable people to hack into online systems so they can do juvenile shit like this,” clipped Camden.
Havana hissed. “Wayland’s up to his online tricks again, huh?”
“It would appear so,” said Tate. “He seems to get a kick out of them.”
“Then we need to check the place for bombs,” began Luke, “because he’s pretty fond of them, too.”
Camden’s stomach dropped. Shit. He was about to herd Aspen out of the apartment when her phone beeped. She read the incoming message, and her entire body went rigid.
Camden’s brows snapped together. “What the fuck is wrong now?”
She didn’t speak. She turned the phone to face him. A message on the screen read: Technology today is so unreliable, isn’t it? You know, you should really cover up more. Your nipples are visible through that tee.
A sense of urgency slammed into Camden. “Out.” He all but hauled her out of the place and into his apartment.
Bailey hurried after them. “What the hell, Camden?”
Her face hard, Aspen held her phone out to the mamba. “I just received this.”
“Received what?” asked Havana, trailing after them. She and Bailey then read the message. “The fuck?” spat the Alpha female.
“Either the sender is one of the people out there nosing around, or there are cameras in her place,” said Camden, his fists clenched. His tiger pitched a fit, clawing at Camden’s insides, needing a target for his fury.
“Son of a motherfucker,” snapped Bailey.
Right then, Tate and Luke appeared.
“What’s going on?” asked the Beta.
Havana handed Aspen’s phone to Luke and said, “See if you can have someone trace this number. You guys might want to sweep her apartment for cameras as well as bombs.”
Spitting curses, the two males disappeared.
“We should check here for any cameras or recording equipment, just in case,” said Camden. So they did. They found nothing, to his utter relief. That relief was short-lived, because Tate returned to inform Aspen that several cameras had been planted in her apartment.
The color left her face. “He’s been watching me. Wayland.”
Knowing his eyes had flashed cat, Camden flexed his fingers and breathed through the fury that tried taking him over.
“They’re no longer recording,” said Tate. “He likely switched them off before texting her so we couldn’t use the cameras’ signal to somehow track him.”
Camden swore beneath his breath. His head and chest hurt from the strain of suppressing his tiger. The beast wanted to hunt and avenge. Pacing, it roared a challenge to this male they couldn’t find.
Turning to Camden, Aspen thrust a hand through her hair. “Doesn’t this seem weird to you?”
He frowned. “What?”
“Well, it seemed like Wayland was escalating, what with the bombs and everything,” replied Aspen. “This recent stunt is kind of a de-escalation. And why tip us off about the cameras?”
Camden shrugged. “To show us how clever he is? To piss us off? To make you feel as violated as you now feel? Take your pick.”