Chapter 15 Jaime #2
Relief hit me. I had never changed it back. Chris had rolled his eyes at the contact name when I first set it, but I had left it, out of habit.
Marion smiled wider. “Seems worried.”
My pulse quickened, not from fear for myself, but from the sharp, instinctive pull tightening in my chest. Chris was looking for me. And now Marion knew exactly how to use that.
“You’re going to tell him to come alone,” Marion said quietly. “You’ll tell him to track the phone’s signal. And you won’t say anything else. If you do…” The barrel pressed harder against my skin. “
I held his gaze, then nodded once.
He answered and switched to speaker.
“Jaime?” Chris’s voice broke through, tight with panic. “Where are you? Are you al—”
“John,” I cut in, forcing the name out clearly.
I kept my tone steady. I pushed the pain down and locked it away, because if there was even the slightest tremor in my voice, Chris would hear it. And if he knew, he would do something reckless.
“I’m fine,” I said, slow and deliberate. “He’s turning on the GPS on my phone.”
I met Marion’s eyes. He gave a small nod and tapped the screen.
“Track it,” I continued. “But come alone.”
I let a hint of urgency slip into my voice, just enough to sound believable, not enough to raise alarm. “He still has the gun. He—”
The call cut off.
Marion clicked his tongue and tossed the phone aside. It skidded across the concrete floor.
His boot lashed out before I could brace myself. Pain exploded through my injured thigh. I forced myself to reach for my wolf, expecting the usual surge of heat and strength to steady me.
Instead, I still found only distance. A dull, muted presence, like something thick and cold had wrapped around him and pulled him under.
“That,” he said mildly, settling back into his chair, “was for the extra commentary.”
He lowered the gun at last, resting it against his leg.
For the first time since I’d woken up, he looked almost relieved. That unsettled me more than the threats.
I swallowed, ignoring the numbness creeping steadily up my leg. “You shouldn’t get too comfortable,” I said quietly. “He’ll be here soon.”
“Good.”
Marion reached into his pocket and drew out the hotel key card he’d taken earlier, turning it lazily between his fingers before holding it up for me to see. “This actually works out better.”
I knew now that he didn’t need us dead. Dead was messy. Dead raised questions. What he needed was something cleaner: footage of two violent shifters caught in the act. Silver would weaken us. The rest, he could shape.
“You think integration means something,” he continued, almost amused. “You think playing house makes you safe. But you’re animals pretending to be neighbors. Sooner or later, people remember what you really are.”
He rose and began pacing, slow and measured. “You two aren’t who you claimed to be. That much is obvious.” He smiled faintly. “That alone will raise questions.”
He gestured toward the wall of clippings. “Now imagine this. Authorities receive a tip about two suspicious men staying at a local hotel. False identities. Strange materials found in their room.”
His smile sharpened. “Propaganda. Illegal substances. Weapons. It won’t matter what, exactly—just enough to frame the narrative.”
He stopped pacing and looked at me. “You come here. There’s an altercation. Perhaps you get aggressive. Perhaps shots are fired.” His gaze drifted briefly toward the camera mounted nearby. “Self-defense is a compelling argument, especially when there’s footage.”
Understanding settled over me. He didn’t just want information. He wanted a story: two dangerous, unstable shifters exposed in a quiet town. Authorities tipped off. Media stirred. Fear spreading fast enough to drown out years of trust.
Trust between the pack and the town would fracture overnight.
He was going to use us to undo everything Pecan Pines had built.
Marion kept talking, but his voice began to blur at the edges. The silver was spreading faster now. My thoughts felt thick, as if they had to push through fog before forming. My fingers tingled. My leg barely felt like part of me anymore.
If I was honest with myself, I was scared. Not of dying, but of failing, of Chris walking straight into this because I hadn’t been strong enough to stop it.
I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes, just for a moment. Holding them open felt like lifting something far too heavy.
When I forced them open again, the room tilted slightly out of place.
Marion was moving quickly now, sweeping items into a bag. The camcorder came down from its mount and disappeared inside. He left the clippings behind, taking only what mattered.
How long was I out?
He zipped the bag and glanced at me, a grin spreading across his face. “He’s here.”
Every sluggish part of me jolted awake.
Marion slung the bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. I heard the distinct, deliberate click of a gun being cocked.
Cold dread flooded my system. I yanked against the cuffs with everything I had left.
“Come on,” I muttered under my breath, forcing my wolf up one last time.
The silver fought back, dragging me down, but I strained anyway. My vision flashed gold as I tried to tear myself free.
Chris was walking into a trap.