Page 93 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
And I’ve got one shot to make this right.
Even if it means trusting someone I’m not sure I know anymore.
SERA
"Let’s start from the top, Marcus," Ember says, her voice cool and steady. "We know you're in witness protection for turning on your drug dealer buddies in L.A. So, what are you doing hanging with a murderous arsonist and his film crew?”
Witness protection. That part was new to me. Drug dealing buddies in L.A. Not as much of a stretch for Marcus. At least now I understand his role with the FBI and with Ember.
I sit back in the chair beside them, arms crossed. Every fiber of me is taut, ready to pounce. I’m listening for more than words—I’m listening to the churn of his thoughts, watching the flicker of hesitation in his jaw, the twitch in his fingers.
Marcus blinks hard, his mouth parting like he might speak, then closing again. He looks rough. Pale. Unshaven. Something in his eyes is fractured. "I’m not helping anyone kill people. Or light fires. I haven’t done anything."
"Then why were you with them?" Ember asks, leaning forward. Obviously, he wasn’t under cover.
His mouth twists, eyes darting sideways like he’s gauging our reaction. "Marsha. We’ve kind of been seeing each other," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.
Figures. I clocked their chemistry the night I saw them at the bar. "That much we know. What can you tell us about the fires?" I join the interrogation.
Marcus shrugs. "I thought they were out of town when the fires happened. That’s what they told me."
He’s lying. Not directly, but by omission. I hear it in the beat of his heart, feel it in the shift of his energy. Ember narrows her eyes, but says nothing.
We let the silence build.
Marcus stares at me. Really stares. I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind, as pieces start snapping into place. His lips part, and this time, the truth spills out.
"Bode approached me outside the bar. Said he used to make documentaries in L.A., covering the drug scene. Said he knew who I was. Knew people who’d love to find me. And if I didn’t want that happening, I’d do whatever he asked. No questions."
My gut clenches. "So do something for us instead. Help us take him down. Give us something. Anything."
He looks away. "Even if he’s locked up, he’s still dangerous. It only takes one call."
That does it. I slam my hands on the table and rise. "He doesn’t know anything. He’s wasting our damn time."
Ember stands slowly. I wait for their rebuke. It doesn't come. Instead their voice is lower, tinged with something like disappointment. "You should have told me, Marcus. I could have helped you."
But we all know the truth.
Marcus won’t ever be free. Not unless Bode and his crew are put down for good.
I send a quick text to Tori as Ember exits the room.Need gear we talked about. Hiding spot. Hurry. Might not have much time.
Then I unclip Marcus’ cuffs. He rubs his wrists, but doesn’t meet my eyes. He seems resigned to his fate. Coward.
Movement at the other end of the station draws my attention. A man in a three-thousand-dollar suit breezes in like he owns the place. Bode’s attorney. Perfect.
I watch him storm into Ember’s office. Through the blinds, I see the angry hand gestures, the heated exchange. My stomach knots.
He’s trying to pull strings—to unleash his monsters and let them roam free again, as if none of the blood ever mattered. It certainly explains why Bode and his crew came in without incident. It was too easy for the magnitude of the sins.
Minutes later, the attorney exits with a smug look and heads toward holding. My pulse spikes.
Too fast. This is all happening too fast.
I find Noah waiting just outside. Marcus follows behind me, slower, like he’s walking toward a death sentence. I hand him off without ceremony.
That’s when it happens.
