Page 41 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
“Does he know who I am?”
Ember contemplates this. “I don’t think so. Although he did do us a favor to secure you a spot. He didn’t know it was us, of course.”
I let this new info marinate in my brain.
“How did Captain Green know Leighton?” No answer.
“You know, anything you can share might help me protect my cover and make sure I don’t end up like Leighton.” I’m desperate to know who is on my side, and right now I’m not feeling the love from my handler.
Ember slows the vehicle and turns off the headlights. “You’re on a need to know basis only.” She pauses. I feel my blood starting to bubble. Damn F.B.I. protocols. Too many lies. Too many secrets.
“Captain Greene and Agent Leighton were war buddies in Afghanistan. Leighton came to Lolo because a cold case related to several arsons in other states led him here. Re-connecting with Greene proved to be a good cover. Obviously, he trusted him well enough to give him the emergency number. You can trust him too. He checks out.”
I blink as if I’m taking pictures with my eyes, capturing the pieces for later.
“What was the cold case? What did Greene say happened?”
Ember says nothing. I have reached the border of what I need to know apparently.
When we reach the edge of the woods, the SUV slows and pulls into a shadowed patch just off the road—same place as before. Before I can open the door, Ember speaks again.
“One more thing.”
I turn, the weight of their gaze—glasses or not—pinning me in place.
They reach into the center console and pull out a small evidence bag. Inside: a scorched, cracked body cam. My stomach knots.
“This belonged to the dead probie.” They already knew. “Take a look,” Ember says, handing it to me. “Then get it back into evidence.”
I stare at the camera like it might bite. “Where did you get this?”
They don’t answer.
But this time I don’t need one. I know who retrieved it from the site. I remember the moment, the scent. Marcus.
Something not entirely human clung to him then—and this camera had been in his hands when I followed him back to the Firehouse.
I shove the thought aside. Carefully, I take the bag. “You want me to plant this back with the Captain?”
“Eventually,” Ember says. “First, watch it. Tell me what you see.”
The passenger door pops open.
“Be careful,” Ember adds. “And the next time we meet, I want answers. I know you're holding out on me.”
I step out of the car, heart hammering, the camera clenched in my fist. I feel the noose tightening around my neck.
When I glance back, the SUV is already gone.
I slip through the trees, keeping low, hugging the shadows. My boots crunch against gravel just once before I remember to lift my feet properly. The firehouse looms down the road, dark and still except for a porch light flickering near the main dorm entrance.
Every creak of the floorboards inside feels louder tonight.
My pulse doesn’t calm until I’m back in my room with the door locked and my headphones plugged into the ancient laptop I brought from the field office. I prop the body cam on the pillow, angle the tiny lens toward me, and press play.
At first, there’s static. Just the probie’s breath—fast, nervous. She’s turning in a slow circle. Then comes the sound of snapping twigs. A flash of movement. A low growl.
I lean in, breath held.
