Page 3 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
With proximity.
“That heat wasn’t just shock—it was recognition. Not the kind you name. The kind that brands you.”
Focus, I remind myself. You’re not here to fall for firemen.
You’re here to find a killer.
The women’s locker room carries the sharp tang of fresh detergent, a cloud of body spray, and the unmistakable musk of nerves. The tile underfoot is still damp from the morning shift change, and metal lockers line both walls. I find the one marked KNOWLES and spin the dial—someone’s already set the combo.
Tori, probably. She’s the one who pulled strings to get me placed here. My cousin, my guardian angel, my only real tie to the magical world I left behind.
I look inside and find the usual turnout gear, a helmet, protective eyewear, a few toiletries for our overnight stays and a small colorful box that could only be from my cousin. Like most Faes, she’s a gift-giver, but you’re never quite sure whether youshould open what they give you. So far today, I’ve been batting zero. I open it anyway.
It’s a protective talisman necklace with what smells like lavender, rosemary and sage in its compartment. All of the herbs we use to keep other supernaturals off our magic trails. I say a silent thank you. She doesn’t know the half of why I’m here, but I’m going to need all the help I can get.
The two other probie women—Nicole and Jamie, if I caught the names right—are already down to their sports bras, chatting as they peel off their civvies. "Did you see the way Noah cuffed her?" Nicole laughs. "I would’ve faked lightning if I’d known he’d putmein handcuffs!”
Jamie giggles. "I know. He could arrest me any day. And did you notice his hands? Big. Like, big-big." They giggle.
I keep my back turned as I change, smirking despite myself. The firehouse-issued uniform feels stiff and a little too crisp, like a costume I’m wearing over the truth. I button the top slowly, eyes narrowed at the reflection in the dented metal of my locker door.
“Think he’s single?” Nicole whispers.
“Who cares? He’s dangerous. That makes it hotter,” Jamie says.
I roll my eyes silently.
They’re not wrong. Thereissomething dangerous about Noah Benson. But it’s not just the muscles or the brooding stare. It’s what I felt when he touched me. That crackle of energy, raw and untamed, that didn’t come from me.
Or maybe itdid.
I shove that thought down as I lace up my boots.
If only I’d finished my damn awakening before I left L.A. Tori warned me it wouldn’t be safe to go half-bonded to my magic. But the Bureau was not going to wait. The mission was urgent.
My fingers pause at the last button. I glance over at the other women, who are now braiding each other’s hair and debating lip balm flavors like we’re at a summer camp and not one step away from firestorms and death.
Getting close to Noah may be a little more competitive than I thought.
But it’s also non-negotiable.
Chances are there is an arsonist on the loose, and he...or she...may not be acting alone.
Everyone is a suspect.
I tap the side of my burner phone as I sit in the back row of the common room, the others still bustling around prepping gear. My thumb hovers over the single contact in the encrypted app.EMBER. The codename of my Bureau handler, and the only person who knows my true identity...or at least my real name and purpose for being here.
A message pings in:
EMBER:You in?
I type back:Affirmative.
EMBER:Good. Keep your eyes on S1. Don’t make contact unless he initiates. And stay alive.
I stare at the last line. Stay alive.
As if that’s ever guaranteed when magic burns through you like a wildfire. Of course, Ember doesn’t know that about me.
