Page 6 of Serpent King's Prisoner

Chapter Three: Abby

Because I wasn’t actually a waitress–because I was an FBI fuckin’ agent, which still felt unreal to even think about–I had to go meet my handler.

The engine of my beat-up sedan sputtered like a tired old man as I pulled into the parking lot of the Presidio. I couldn’t blame my shitty little car; driving in San Francisco was tiring for me, I couldn’t imagine what it was like for it. This was one of my last college remnants; a car my dad had bought for me before I’d left home. The FBI had told me they could give me one, but this one made me feel close to my dad and it helped keep me patient when traffic that should have taken all of ten minutes took an hour and a half.

It didn’t matter anymore. I’d gotten to my destination just as the sun was taking its last bow, sending streaks of orange and pink across the sky that lit up the turning leaves like fire.

I yanked out the keys, shoving them into my pocket next to my gun—a constant companion—and plugged in my earbuds. My earbuds were never on; they helped block the world outside, but my dad had taught me when I was a little girl that listening to music on earbuds was only for when I was inside. When I was out, I needed to be aware of everything around me. This only made cutting through the noise easier.

The world outside my mission needed to be drowned out if only for the duration of a run. I desperately needed it, my limbs ached for it.

My sneakers crunched on the gravel path as I set off at a steady pace.

Cresting a hill, I pushed deeper into the park, where the chatter of tourists faded and the air turned brisk with the whisper of the sea. Clouds crept over the sun, their shadows chilling the ground beneath my feet. A blanket of fog rolled in from the water, caressing the landscape with ghostly fingers. The city sounds were muffled here, the silence eerie, making the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention.

I quickened my pace, trying to outrun the creeping unease. But then, just as my heartbeat started to pound louder than the music, a figure lunged from the shadowy brush. Strong arms wrapped around me, dragging me off the path into the tangled underbrush.

“Hey!” I shouted, instinct taking over as I twisted and fought against the iron grip, ready to do whatever it took to survive.

With no time to hesitate, my elbow shot back with precision and force, connecting squarely with the assailant’s face. A satisfying crunch echoed through the growing dusk as I broke free, my hand finding the cold metal of my gun in an instant.

“Whoa, hey, it’s just me!” The words came out in a pained laugh, and my eyes snapped up to meet Tyler Matthews’ familiar but irritatingly amused face. He held his nose, blood trickling between his fingers, his other hand raised in surrender.

“Tyler, you fucking idiot!” I snarled, adrenaline still surging through my veins. My heart was a wild drum solo against my ribs. I held my hand around my gun still, even though he wasn’t a threat. I still kind of wanted to shoot him. “You don’t sneak up on someone like that—especially not me!”

“Sorry, Abby, couldn’t resist.” His chuckle grated on my nerves. “But seriously, running alone here after dark? You’re asking for trouble.”

“It’s not dark,” I said. “At least it wasn’t when I got here.”

“Still, a pretty girl like you,” he said. “You should be careful.”

I hated the way he was looking at me. The mix of pity and…I didn’t know what that was in his eyes, but I didn’t like it at all. I holstered my gun, fury simmering beneath my skin. “I should shoot you in the balls for pulling a stunt like that.” I wasn’t joking, and he knew it.

“Easy, tiger.” Tyler shook his head, wiping the blood on his sleeve. “Look, I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t off playing lone wolf. Besides, we’ve got work to do.”

“Work that you dragged me out here for,” I reminded him sharply, brushing leaves from my clothes. “I could have been at home, not stuck in traffic getting to this godforsaken place.”

“Really? You were the one who decided to go for a jog here,” Tyler said. “If you had wanted company, all you had to do was ask.”

“I didn’t want company. I’m here for work. I can’t believe you made me come here,” I said. “Couldn’t we have met at like a coffee shop or something?”

“The Presidio has its charms,” he quipped, but the pain in his expression told me he regretted his little prank. At least a little. “And people can overhear us at a coffee shop.”

“Let’s just get down to business,” I said, wanting to put the whole incident behind us. It was unnerving enough being here without Tyler’s scare tactics. But I’d never admit how much he’d rattled me. Not out loud.

“Fine,” he said. “You want to talk about work? Let’s talk about work. How’s it going?”

I swallowed. “Fine. Nothing to report,” I said. “I go home, go to work, go home, go to work. Nothing new or exciting has happened.”

“It’s not home,” he said. We were standing on a hill overlooking the city as the last light of the day was bleeding away, giving the city a kind of rough glow that only happens when the sun sets on San Francisco. The Presidio was quiet now, save for the distant hum of traffic that seemed like a world away.

“What do you mean?”

“Abby.” Tyler’s voice snapped me back to the present. “Focus. This is just a job, okay? It’s not your life. Don’t forget that or you’ll screw this up.”

I clenched my jaw, knowing he was right. My cover at the coffee shop wasn’t just a gig—it was my in. A way to get close to the Serpents without them realizing they had an FBI agent in their midst. I knew that, of course, but I hadn’t managed to make a dent yet.

They were secretive and I was just some white girl who worked at a coffee shop. If I didn’t start showing my higher ups results soon, they would pull me from the assignment. “Yeah, I know,” I muttered, feeling the weight of my gun against my side—a comforting reminder of who I really was beneath the barista apron.

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