“Afternoon here,” Logan replied. “How’s it going out there?”
“Everything’s fine out here. No trespassers except for a couple of stray cats early this morning. I wonder if she used to feed them. They seemed pretty intent on hanging around, even though they sensed what was nearby.” Meaning himself. He didn’t need to be the wolf for animals to feel its presence.
“What about your end?” Zane asked. “No luck with the trace?”
Logan’s jaw tightened. He looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep. The circles under his eyes spoke volumes, along with the downward turn of his mouth. “We had a complication overnight. I guess neither of you tried to log into our system during that time.”
“I didn’t.” Braxton looked to Zane, who shook his head.
“I know you didn’t since neither of you called to say you couldn’t log into your accounts. We went down overnight.”
“Went down? How? Why?”
“It wasn’t something as simple as a power outage if that’s what you’re thinking,” Logan growled. “I wish it was that easy. We have backup power in place for that sort of situation, anyway.”
“So what was it?” Zane pressed.
“Our friendly hacker, whoever they are.” He rubbed his eyes with closed fists.
“Did they take anything?” Braxton asked with his heart in his throat. They all knew what was at stake. Their personal files were stored on the firm’s servers, files detailing the tests run on them during those dark days in the lab, files which Logan had taken from the lab before their escape.
It was his way of protecting all of them.
“No. Everything’s in place, and nothing’s been copied or even accessed. That’s Hawk’s take on the situation, anyway—he’s been at work for hours. We’re all a little tense right now.”
“Why didn’t you tell us about this?”
“What could you do about it? Besides, the way it looks, whoever’s behind this only wanted to make sure we know they’re capable of doing it. It was a message.”
It was hard to believe, somebody being able to hack into a system as strong as theirs. Logan hadn’t spared any expense when it came to investing in the highest quality equipment—and the highest quality technicians like Hawk.
How were they supposed to find Serenity’s stalker if they couldn’t even find out who was hacking into their system? Each attack brought them closer.
Where would they stop? Would they ever stop?
“I guess it would be a waste of time to ask how we’re coming along with the trace on that email,” Braxton murmured, glancing inside the house. She was still at work in there, talking to those invisible fans who’d eventually watch the video she was creating.
“Yet you asked,” Logan growled. “Trust me. I want to get this solved as badly as anyone. I don’t like having the two of you on the west coast away from us.”
“And I can’t stand being out here,” Braxton admitted. Zane made a disbelieving sort of noise. “I’m serious. I don’t care about the sunshine and palm trees. Nothing out here is real. None of the people are either.”
“How is she holding up?”
“She’s scared out of her mind, though she’ll do anything to hide it. She only thinks she’s hiding how she feels. But she’s strong. She’s working on a video right now.”
“Is that admiration I hear in your voice?” Even now, Logan was capable of busting balls.
“No. I can tell you without a shred of hesitation that I do not admire.”
“I do,” Zane argued. “You gotta be fair. She made all this happen on her own. And she doesn’t seem like half a bad person.”
“Yes, we know all about her history, where she came from. Hawk might be hard at work on the system, but that doesn’t stop Val from working her magic. It’s impressive. But she’s hardly the first person to ever come up from nothing.”
“Exactly,” Braxton agreed.
“We also know you manhandled a persistent fan yesterday,” Logan announced in a dark, heavy tone. “Not the smartest move you’ve ever made.”
“He was going to crush some little girl. And he wasn’t a fan. He was a lowlife.”
“A lowlife who is talking about bringing a lawsuit against whoever it was who attacked him.” Logan shook his head when Braxton opened his mouth to argue. “It’s on the news. I’m surprised you haven’t heard by now.”
“I haven’t been paying attention,” he admitted. “It’s a shame he can’t be a man and just face me.”
“Like you bought after what you did—not that I blame you,” Logan continued. “I would’ve done worse to him than you did. But let’s remember: we have to maintain a low profile. That’s always the first rule. You broke that rule yesterday because you acted before you thought.”
“It’s not so easy to keep a low profile when you’re guarding a girl who can’t even take a few days away from the spotlight, if only for the sake of her own safety. There’s really not much I can do.”
“You can take it easy,” Logan argued. “You can get yourself under control. No more altercations.”
There was no point in fighting with him, no point in bringing up the fact that he had hardly started things. If that guy hadn’t pressed the girl against the barricade, none of it would’ve happened. Protective instincts weren’t the sort of thing a person could turn on and off on a whim, especially creatures like themselves who carried a wolf inside them.
As far as the wolf was concerned, that man was lucky he got off with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises.
A scream cut through the air, a scream so shrill it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He bolted up from the table and ran inside, throwing the door open and crossing the living room in just a few steps.
Serenity had backed away from the table, but it wasn’t the table that was the problem. It was her phone, sitting in a stand meant to hold it still and at the correct angle while she recorded herself. Her eyes were the size of saucers, her lips pulled back from her teeth in a grimace of horror.
“What is it?” he asked, taking her by the arms. She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t take her eyes from the phone like it was a coiled snake she was afraid would strike at any moment.
“Picture!” she gasped. It was the only word she was capable of saying. “Picture, picture!” Her legs went out from under her, and he caught her easily before she hit the floor in a dead faint.
Zane followed him in. “What the hell is on that phone?” Braxton asked, scooping Serenity up in his arms and carrying her to the sofa.
“It locked itself already.” Zane joined him and pressed Serenity’s thumb to the power button, unlocking the screen.
What they found was enough to bring them both to silence.
A girl. A girl whose hair might’ve been blonde if it wasn’t for the blood that soaked into it.
A girl whose face might’ve been pretty if it wasn’t for all the bruising, the gashes, the gaping wound just over the left eye. A hole where a bullet had pierced her brain.
A girl who might have looked a lot like Serenity before somebody beat the hell out of her, then blew her brains out.
And under that shocking, gruesome image, somebody had added text. THIS COULD BE YOU.
Chapter Twelve
A girl.
A dead girl.
A dead girl who could be her.
When Serenity’s eyes opened, the first face she found was Braxton’s. He was hovering over her, close to her, rubbing her wrists with hands that were big enough to engulf hers. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, wanting to say something, anything—anything to share the horror that hadn’t left her for a second, not even when she swooned and fainted.
The image was burned into her brain. It would never leave. That face. The blood.
Her mouth was so dry, and her tongue was thick, and she couldn’t find the words anyway. His face blurred a split second before tears—hot, stinging tears—started coursing their way down her
cheeks.
“There you go. The shock broke.” He said that like it was a good thing, and he even smiled a little. His dark eyes were warm, warmer than they’d been yet. “Let it out. It’s okay.”
She didn’t need his permission. Besides, there was nothing she could do to stop it. It was like something was sitting on her chest, pushing all the tears out of her, tears and sobs and gasps and incoherent whimpering.
That girl. That poor, dead girl. “Was it real?” she managed to ask, clutching his hands now. They were her only link to anything outside the horror, the only thing keeping her from losing her mind. Strong, large hands, rough but comforting. They’d keep her safe, wouldn’t they? They’d make sure she didn’t slide under the waves and drown. “Was it real? Or was it fake?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted with a grimace. “I wish I could say it was faked, but there’s no way of knowing yet. I sent the email over to my team for them to work on it, to find out everything they can from the photo and the account it came from. I’m sure they’ll be able to answer any questions you have.”
“My God.” She lost it again, dissolving in helpless, broken sobs. She’d never forget that picture, the image of that girl, whether it was real or not. If it was fake, it was a work of genius.
She was on the couch in the living room. He must’ve put her there since she didn’t remember going there on her own. When she tried to sit up, he pressed her back against the pillows with firm hands. “Relax for a minute. You don’t have anywhere to go right now. Just rest. Here.” He picked up a glass of water from the coffee table.
She welcomed the cold rush trailing down her throat and into her chest. It brought her back to herself, at least a little. It helped her think a little more clearly. “I was hoping it was nothing but a prank or something somebody dreamed up to make me look over my shoulder for a little while. I didn’t want to believe it was real, that whoever did this was serious.”
He nodded, his brows drawn together. “I’ve seen pretty shocking things, and that shook me up. I can imagine what it must’ve done to you. I’m only sorry you had to see it.”
“I’m such an idiot. I should’ve known an email coming to that account might be something bad. But it’s just one of those things. You see an email, you click on it. I did it without even thinking.”
“That doesn’t make you an idiot,” he murmured with a faint smile. “It’s reflex. We’re all trained to click on our email account when there’s a new message or to open our texts when something comes through. Hell, I can barely get through an entire episode of a half-hour long show without picking up my phone just to see what’s going on.”
“Me too,” she admitted.
Turning her head slightly to the side, she saw Zane pacing the patio. He was on the phone, and he looked mad at somebody. “What’s going on?” she asked, nodding toward him.
“What do you think? He’s on the phone with our team, pushing them to get to the bottom of this. I have to admit it might be easier for all of us if we were back with the team at headquarters.”
“Why?”
“It’s just how we usually work. It’s unusual for two members of the team to be on the other side of the country. Granted, we don’t need to be together. The more of us working on the case at once, the better. I think Logan might send somebody else to back us up.”
“Because whoever is doing this means it.” She shivered, her words sinking into her bones, settling deep inside her. Somebody wanted her dead. They really and truly wanted her dead. It wasn’t a game. It wasn’t a prank. It wasn’t something to throw her out of focus just days before rehearsals started.
Zane came in and motioned to Braxton. “Stay right here,” he murmured, gently pulling his hands from hers. “Just stay put and drink your water. We have this under control.”
Only the fact that she knew he meant well and that he believed what he said kept her from laughing out loud. Under control? There was no hope of getting this under control. Somebody out there was serious, deadly serious.
Who was the girl?
She held the water glass in both hands, willing herself to focus on how cold it was, to observe the condensation running down the outside and moistening her palms. It brought her back to the present moment, into herself and her body. It was the only thing she could do to keep from sliding out of control again. The entire world depended on whether or not she could hold on to that class.
Meanwhile, she watched the men have a tense, whispered conversation on the other side of the room by the door. Every part of Braxton’s body was like a coiled spring, right down to his tightened jaw and clenched fists.
A person would have to be a real idiot to get on his bad side, or they’d have to have a death wish.
He joined her again, crouching in front of the couch rather than trying to sit with her stretched out along its length. “One of our team members ran the photo past a contact in the police department, a homicide detective, and their preliminary analysis points toward it being the real thing. I thought you’d want to know that. I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you.”
Good thing he took the glass from her or else she would have dropped it and let it shatter on the floor. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Why wouldn’t they stop shaking? It was like she lost control of her body.
“You have nothing to be afraid of. We’re here with you. Logan is sending additional team members now that we know the sort of person you’re dealing with. Okay? I just need you to understand you have nothing to fear.”
“How can you say that?” she asked, staring at him and wonder. “That girl. That poor girl! Somebody killed her just to send me a message, and you’re telling me I have nothing to worry about?”
He winced. “Serenity…”
“No!” It came out sounding like something from an animal, something primal and filled with confusion and grief and horror. “Don’t tell me everything is okay because it’s not. That girl’s dead, whoever she is, and whoever killed her did it to get through to me. How would that make you feel? If you knew somebody died today because they look like you? Because somebody hated you enough to kill somebody else, just to hurt you?”
He looked down, away from her. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
“I know you’re just trying to help me,” she whispered, “but I’m the one who has to live with this. I have to live knowing somebody died just for somebody else to send me a message. How sick is that? They died because somebody wanted to get through to me. Here I was, making my videos, pretending like nothing was wrong because that’s what I’m supposed to do. Somebody was dying.”
“For one thing, you don’t know when this happened. I have my team paying close attention to police scanners out here, listening for any hint of a body matching the description being found. I know the detective who looked at that photo tipped off the cops out here, but who’s to say that girl was killed here? We’re trying to extract geoinformation stored in the picture, but that could take a minute to locate if whoever did this took precautions to hide.”
She nodded, numb. “And of course, they would because they’ve been careful so far.”
“Whoever we’re dealing with isn’t just somebody holding a grudge. They’re either highly skilled, or they took the time to learn what they needed to learn.”
“They planned this,” she whispered. There went her hands again, shaking.
“Yes. It seems like they did. We’re working hard to find out who it was. You don’t need to wonder about that. In the meantime, it might be a good idea to get in touch with Melody and see what you can do about your schedule.”
“I don’t know if there’s anything I can do,” she whispered. Her throat was so tight it was almost hard to breathe, let alone speak. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “I have a contract. Responsibilities.”
“You have responsibilities to yourself. Screw the rest of them.”
“That’s easy for you to say. I doubt the studio’s going to be intereste
d in stopping production or even slowing things down just because of me. You don’t know how things are out here.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea of it so far. I don’t need to know the ins and outs to understand you’re being taken advantage of by anybody who expects you to work after something like this. You’re going through trauma and shouldn’t be expected to carry on like there’s nothing happening.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” she warned. He wanted to talk about trauma? She could tell him about trauma—and then tell him everything she’d managed to accomplish during and after experiencing some of the worst trauma she could imagine.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, but you’ve gotta be smart. I know you’re a smart person. I know you understand what’s happening and that this person is gonna keep doing this until they get to you.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better? Because it’s not helping.”
He blew out a long, frustrated sigh. “Serenity.”
The way he said her name turned her stomach—trying to be understanding and sweet and relatable when there was nothing even remotely like that about him. “Braxton, I can’t back out on my commitments. I can’t. Nobody will hire me again if I do. Don’t you get it? This is my life. My reputation.”
“Your reputation won’t matter much if you give up your life for it.”
His words hit her like blocks of ice, ice that spread frigid cold through her arms, legs, down to her toes and up to her head. He was right—she knew he was right—and she didn’t want to die.
But she didn’t want to give up everything she’d wanted and dreamed of and worked for either. She wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t. Not now, not when she was so close to everything. “I’m sorry you don’t understand,” she whispered. “I really am. I don’t know any other way to explain it to you.”
“And I guess I don’t know any way to explain it to you either,” he snapped. She fell back a little at the sight and sound of his anger—the way his already deep voice deepened even further, the way his eyes flashed fire, the way his breathing turned into something that sounded like it was coming from a wild animal.
Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset Page 33