Page 48 of Fate Awakened

“Put the bag back on,” I say to Keith in the backseat before nodding to Jake to head out.

My head falls back against the seat, exhaustion setting in. Even after being knocked out for half a day, I still don’t feel rested. Adrenaline has flooded my system all day. My overwhelming need to find Bri has me tense and anxiety-ridden in a way I’ve never experienced before.

I’ve spent most of my life in complete control. Obsessively so. Even with Alpha blood and teenage hormones, I was years ahead of others my age at keeping my emotions in check and maintaining a firm hold over my wolf. For years, Dante would get so pissed at my ability to see clearly through any situation we encountered.

It’s part of why I’m so good at my job. The aggression I get to show, or the calculations I make about risk on the fly are completed with a clear head. Dante spent years fighting his wolf for control, and while he now has become an Alpha with a long fuse, it wasn’t always that way. He chooses to lead from headquarters because he can separate his emotions when he isn’t physically present at the scene. Where I have always been a precision weapon, Dante is more like a bomb; you never know how much damage it will inflict until it goes off.

Today though, I barely cling to control, struggling to maintain any hold as time drags with no new information about her whereabouts.

Where are you, Firefly?

***

When we return to the compound, Jake and I escort the blindfolded Keith into the main office building. We bypass the stairs and head to the elevator, riding it up in silence.

“Take him to conference room two so he can get himself set up,” I order before turning toward Presley’s office.

I find her typing away furiously, Dante standing over her shoulder. Crossing the room, I set down the surveillance equipment Keith used at the meeting tonight and look over the screens in front of me. Cameras in the conference room have been enlarged and show Keith unplugging cords and re-routing them in the room while Jake watches from the doorframe.

“You didn’t set up the system yourself?” I ask, confused why he’s having to adjust things.

“Oh, I did. Everything was functional,” she says with a chuckle before adding, “he just happens not to like that the cords are twisted, tangled, and knotted.” She pulls her lips in, attempting to hold in her laughter as she continues working on something on an entirely different screen. My eyes trace the cabling on the floor in Presley’s office, noting that every single one is perfectly lined, taped, or mounted, and nothing is a mess.

“How did that happen?” I ask sarcastically, noting the flush of her cheeks and the pull on the corner of her mouth.

“Just a sec,” Pres responds, not slowing her hands.

Dante stands silently behind her with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s showered and changed clothes since the last time I saw him. He now wears dark blue sweatpants and a white t-shirt that fits snugly against his athletic frame. It dawns on me how much stress I’m putting on my pack. How much they’re having to do for me; for my Mate.

“There. Done,” she finishes before turning around and continuing, “Keith has an older rig set up in the conference room. I’ve reconfigured our network firewall. We’re now blocking any commonly used ports for encrypted communication protocols. He could try to get around it using an unconventional port, but I’m monitoring his network traffic, recording every keystroke, and all of the information is mirrored to my workstation. On top of that, he has no write permissions anywhere.”

“Write permissions?” I ask.

“He can’t save any files. This helps protect us from any damage to our systems and minimizes any communications from going out. He can try to do something nefarious, but he won’t get anything past me.” Her confidence has me nodding my head with her.

“Ok, so then where will he be sleeping?” I ask, turning my attention to Dante.

His focus shifts to me, and he pauses, evaluating me momentarily. I attempt to relax my muscles, hoping to look less wound up.

“He’s assigned to 508,” Dante responds easily.

“You sure we can’t just keep him in a holding cell? I mean, then we wouldn’t need to waste a body securing him,” I ask, knowing the guest suites are too good for Keith’s untrustworthy ass, despite Dante having placed him the farthest he could from the building exit, and he’s five floors in the air.

“Keith isn’t a prisoner. He’s here voluntarily, helping us get Brielle back. I think we can offer him a bed in a guest suite. Erik has a security schedule in place with one guard on the room door and one on-camera monitoring. We all need to try and get some rest. Tomorrow is make or break for finding her before Marlo has her in his custody; if he doesn’t already. I need everyone operating at their best, and that includes Mr. Anderson.” His eyebrow lifts at me in a slight challenge as he finishes.

He’s right.

As much as I hate it, we need Keith right now. He might just be our ticket to finding her in time.

I exhale, releasing as much tension as I can in the process.

“Fine. But if we don’t have new answers soon, I’m going to Reno. We know that's the end game for Hudson. I don’t want to be hours away when we locate her. If intel changes before then, fine, but if not, I’m taking a team with me.” I state, not asking permission but stating my intentions to avoid getting into an all-out battle tomorrow.

“Meeting at eleven in the MC. We need to have a plan. We can’t start a war without evidence. Hopefully, we can get some,” he finishes, rubbing his eyes at the top of his nose. “Jake’s taking Keith to his room now. You need to go to bed.”

He walks out of Presley’s office, and I turn back to her.

“I know you’ve covered your bases, but be careful. We don’t know his intentions. He could be acting like he’s on our side to sabotage us for Marlo,” I warn, hoping she sees that Keith’s a wild card and we just waltzed him right into the heart of our operation.

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