Chapter 10 Loopholes And Loyalty
Loopholes And Loyalty
Astrid Mathieson
The conference room feels too small, too sterile, too far from where I need to be.
Hayes stands at the front, droning on about the chimeras—unprecedented danger, major threat, highest priority—while I scroll through the Missouri wolf shifter reports on my tablet beneath the table.
The images from the Branson forest flash across my screen.
Massive paw prints. The bear carcass. Blurry figures running toward water.
Sanderson's hourly check-in text buzzes on my wrist and I peek at it.
Same as the rest, confirming nothing unusual near Mom's house.
Except the wolf was spotted less than fifty miles from her house.
"Mathieson." Hayes' sharp tone snaps me back to the debriefing. "Care to share your analysis of the chimeras' communication patterns with the rest of us?"
I lock my tablet and straighten in my chair. "Complex vocalizations incorporating elements from all three creature aspects. They coordinated tactically, sir. These weren't mindless beasts—they had a plan and executed it with precision."
Hayes nods, seemingly satisfied with my response despite my divided attention. Ghost shoots me a knowing look from across the table. He's been watching me obsess over the Missouri reports since we landed. Sherlock's gaze, however, doesn’t even spare me a glance. Strange.
"The chimeras represent a dangerous magickal beast we haven't ever encountered before," Hayes continues, pointing to the footage from Rossi's apartment.
"Bullet-resistant hides, coordinated attacks, and apparent use of water as some form of transportation.
They are now GUIDE's number one priority globally.
Your team is permanently attached to this case until they are killed or captured. "
"Sir," I interject, unable to help myself. "What about the wolf shifter situation in the Midwest? Team Echo has failed to contain it in three different states now."
Hayes' expression hardens. "Team Echo's operational effectiveness is not your concern, Agent Mathieson."
"With respect, sir, the pattern of movements suggests this isn't just a feral shifter. It's moving erratically, and continues to be seen near large civilian populations."
"And how do you know so much about Team Echo's assignment?" Hayes asks, his voice cold and flat.
I maintain eye contact, keeping my expression professional. "Standard protocol is to review all active field operations in proximity to our own assignments, sir. The Missouri incident is less than fifty miles from—from populated areas I'm familiar with."
"The wolf shifter is a regional issue. The chimeras killed two of our field teams and three retired agents. They are the priority." Hayes' tone makes it clear the discussion is over. "Team dismissed. Written reports due by 0800 tomorrow."
Fuck.
As the room empties, I linger, scrolling through satellite imagery of my mother's neighborhood on my tablet. Nothing unusual, but the satellite passes are hours apart—plenty of time for a creature to appear and disappear.
"Something on your mind, Agent?" Hayes asks from the doorway where he's been watching me.
I stand, decision made. "Sir, I'd like to request temporary reassignment to Team Echo. My knowledge of the Midwest terrain could—"
"Denied." His interruption is swift and final.
"Sir, with all due respect—" I push back, thinking of the subagents assigned to replace Ghost and Sherlock while they heal.
Working with strangers for two weeks leaves an uncomfortable vulnerability.
At least with Echo, I'd be protecting what matters most while my real team recovers, not babysitting rookies.
"This isn't about your abilities, Mathieson." Hayes steps back into the room, lowering his voice. "The chimeras recognized you. They focused on you specifically during the engagement. We need to understand why."
My blood runs cold. I didn’t report that, so that means Ghost or Sherlock did…
"Take the afternoon and evening. Go see your mother. Then report back for the Rome follow-up with your report. We're tracking sightings similar to the chimeras in three European cities."
"And meanwhile, this wolf shifter continues to evade capture," I say, the words escaping before I can stop them.
Hayes' eyes narrow slightly, a calculated look passing across his face.
I suddenly understand what he's doing—giving me just enough rope to hang myself.
He's denying my official transfer knowing exactly what I'll do with this "personal time.
" This way, if I encounter the shifter, GUIDE benefits.
If I screw up, he maintains plausible deniability.
"I told her to visit her mother, not hunt the creature.
" Typical Hayes, finding the loophole in his own protocols that serves the Agency's interests.
My jaw tightens at his political maneuvering. A few hours with my mother isn't a solution. It's a Band-Aid on a severed artery. That creature is still out there, still hunting, still moving closer to the only person who loves me knowing what I truly am.
I don't want a visit. I want that monster's head on a pike.
Until the wolf shifter is eliminated, no amount of borrowed time will ease the knot of dread lodged beneath my ribs.
Every minute I spend in debriefings or with those two rookies is another minute something could be stalking through her garden, sniffing at her door.
Hayes' expression shifts, something almost like concern crossing his features. "Your personal connection to that case is precisely why you're not being assigned to it, Mathieson. You know the protocols."
I nod stiffly. "Yes, sir."
"Dismissed, Agent."
I exit the conference room, fists clenched at my sides. The hallway to the locker room stretches before me, but all I can see is that bear carcass, throat torn out with devastating efficiency.
The chimeras are my father's killers. I should be obsessed with tracking them, finishing what I started in Rome. But that strange electric sensation that's been building for days now pulses beneath my skin, drawing my attention to Missouri like a compass needle locked on true north.
I press my palm against my sternum, trying to ease the pressure.
This feeling started the moment that wolf shifter appeared near Mom's town.
It's not just coincidence, it's a connection.
The same way I've always been able to sense other magickal beings, only a hundred times stronger. Like it's calling to me specifically.
The chimeras can wait. They've eluded me for years. I can spare time to ensure my mother's safety and now Hayes has given me the ability to do so. Dad would understand that choice. The Rome mission is about vengeance for the past. Missouri is about preserving the only future that matters to me.
My phone vibrates with an incoming call—Mom. I take a deep breath before answering.
"Hey sweetheart, are you back from your trip?" Her voice is casual, normal. She has no idea what's possibly lurking less than an hour from her doorstep.
"Just landed," I say, keeping my voice steady. "Listen, I need you to pack a bag. I need you to go stay with Aunt Carrie for a while."
Silence stretches across the line. "What's changed?"
"Just a feeling."
"Astrid." Her voice drops lower.
My throat tightens. "I need you to leave."
"I have book club tomorrow," she protests. "And the garden—"
"Mom, please." I rest my forehead against the cool metal of my locker. "I'm coming over tonight. Be packed when I get there."
I end the call before she can argue further.
The locker room door swings open and Ghost enters, his face lined with concern. He's still moving carefully, favoring his left side where the chimera struck him. He and Sherlock are both on desk duty for two weeks while I get the glorified rookies to babysit.
I hate working with strangers.
"You okay?" he asks, leaning against the lockers.
"Fine." The lie comes automatically.
"Bullshit." He crosses his arms. "You've been fixated on those Missouri reports since we hit U.S. airspace. What's going on?"
I hesitate, then pull up the satellite imagery on my tablet. "The wolf shifter's movement pattern. Three more appearances, each time closer to my mom's place."
Ghost studies the map, his expression grim. "You think it's hunting her specifically?"
"I think it's hunting something, and I don't want her anywhere near it when it finds whatever it's looking for."
"Hayes won't let you near this case," he reminds me gently.
"I know," I say, shoving necessities into my go-bag. "But he gave me leave this afternoon and evening. I’m going home to make my mom pack a bag and leave."
Ghost grabs my arm. "Blades, think about this. Going rogue against Hayes—"
"It's not going rogue. It's visiting my mother. He told me to go." I zip the bag closed with more force than necessary. "If something happens to be hunting in her area while I'm there... well, that's just coincidence."
He sighs, releasing my arm. "Be careful. And check in, okay? Every six hours or so help me, I'm calling it in."
I meet his gaze, grateful for his concern even as I resent needing it. "Deal."
As I shoulder my bag to leave, Ghost calls after me: "If you find this thing, don't engage alone. Call for backup. Promise me."
I don't answer as the door swings shut behind me.
The GUIDE parking garage is nearly empty when I reach my car, most agents already home for the night.
I toss my go-bag onto the passenger seat, program my mother's address into the GPS even though I know the route by heart, and pull out onto the street.
Rush hour traffic crawls for the first thirty minutes until I finally break free of the city's gravitational pull and hit the interstate.
Only then do I allow myself to press the accelerator past the speed limit, eating up miles while the sun sinks toward the horizon.