Page 46 of Samuel
I couldn’t let my worry cloud my mind; I had a job to do. The lives lost here demanded justice.
Stepping out of the truck, I surveyed the scene.
The roadhouse was no more than a charred skeleton, its beams twisted and blackened, still smoldering in places.
Firefighters—exhausted but determined—were packing up hoses and equipment, while paramedics quietly moved around, tending to some of the bodies pulled from the wreckage.
The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and ash, a grim testament to the sheer ferocity of the flames.
Several stretchers were lined up nearby, covered with white sheets, but even from a distance, I could tell that whatever lay beneath them was beyond recognition.
As I moved toward the sheriff, the weight of guilt settled heavier.
This rogue dragon had been my responsibility, but I’d been distracted.
I’d let my guard down, too wrapped up in the heat of mating and the thrill of getting to know Blake.
I pushed the thought aside; second-guessing myself now would do nothing to solve the problem at hand.
Sheriff Davidson spotted me and walked over, his face set in a grim line.
“Samuel,” he said, giving me a nod. “Where’s your partner? Figured he’d be joining you.”
“Blake couldn’t make it,” I replied, my voice steady. “But I’m here, and I’ll help however I can.”
The sheriff didn’t need to know the details; what mattered now was getting to the root of the problem.
Davidson took a deep breath, then gestured to the ruins behind him.
“We’ve got seven bodies so far,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with anger and sadness. “All of them locals. They come out here after shifts, or to catch some live music on the weekends. Good people, every last one of them.”
I nodded, the sense of urgency sharpening with each word.
“You mentioned on the phone that you suspected this was no ordinary fire,” I prompted.
“Exactly,” Davidson replied, his eyes narrowing. “Whatever did this, it wasn’t normal. The way the place went up in flames, so fast, and with this much destruction—it doesn’t add up. And that brings me to why I called you.”
He hesitated, casting a glance at the wreckage. “I’ve seen plenty of fires in my time, but nothing like this,” he said.
“It could be some sort of fae creature,” I suggested, keeping my tone neutral. “Something that manipulates fire.”
Davidson frowned, clearly skeptical, but he sighed and nodded.
“If you say so. You’re the expert here. I reached out to a friend of mine in the Bureau, and he confirmed that hunters from the Guild have been reliable before. Trustworthy,” Davidson said.
Relief surged through me.
Knowing that the sheriff wasn’t going to pry too deeply into our cover gave me some breathing room, at least for now.
As Davidson continued briefing me, I kept one eye on the tree line, searching for any sign of the rogue dragon.
At this distance, I should feel its presence. If it decided to show itself here, now, there’d be no hiding what I was.
I’d have to shift and reveal my true form, putting our entire operation at risk.
But if that was the price for ending this threat, I’d do it without hesitation.
“So, about what I told you earlier,” Davidson continued, his tone cautious. “You asked why I suspected this was more than just a fire. One of our witnesses, a truck driver passing by, swears he heard howls. Wolves, from the sound of it.”
