Chapter 10 Loopholes And Loyalty #2
The highway stretches ahead, endless black ribbon cutting through rolling hills that would be beautiful if I could focus on anything besides the gnawing fear in my gut.
I've been driving for over an hour, the Missouri border fifteen minutes behind me.
With each mile, that strange electric sensation grows stronger beneath my skin—not quite pain, but an awareness that feels unavoidable.
My playlist cycles through songs I'm not really hearing, until my phone rings through the car's speakers. Sanderson.
"Anything?" I ask without preamble.
"Did a drive-by an hour ago," his gruff voice answers. "Nothing out of the ordinary."
"Any gossip about the shifter today?"
"Nothing official." He pauses. "But my contact at the sheriff's office mentioned multiple deer carcasses fifteen miles west of your place. Whatever it is, it's feeding."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"I'm about an hour out. If you hear anything else—"
"I'll call," he promises. "You be careful, Mathieson. This thing's bigger than the reports say. Motion-activated wildlife camera caught a partial image last night—damn thing's the size of a small horse."
My hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Thanks for the heads-up."
As I end the call, my mother's number flashes on the screen. I answer, bracing myself.
"I'm not leaving," she says without greeting.
"Mom—"
"Astrid. I won't be chased from my home."
The electric sensation pulses sharply, making me wince. It's getting stronger the closer I get to her town. "This isn't a debate. Pack. A few days with Aunt Carrie won't kill you. Have your suitcase on the porch."
"And you? What are you planning to do? Hunt this thing alone?"
Sometimes I hate how well she knows me.
"I'll be there in forty minutes," I say instead of answering. "We'll talk then."
I hang up, dialing Ghost immediately after.
"Any activity on the GUIDE monitors?" I ask when he answers.
"All quiet. Echo team is setting up a perimeter around the last sighting area, but they're focused west of your mom's town."
"I'll check in when I reach Mom's," I promise, ending the call.
The sun hangs low on the horizon as I finally turn onto the familiar street, modest houses with well-kept yards looking exactly as they have for the last decade. Nothing out of place. Nothing to explain the buzzing anxiety that's only grown stronger since I've arrived.
Mom's porch light is on, but there's no sign of luggage when I pull into the driveway.
Dammit.
"No." Mom stands in her kitchen, arms crossed, expression defiant. "I'm not leaving."
I drop my go-bag by the door and scan the living room. Nothing's packed. I should have known she wouldn't listen.
"This isn't a request," I say, moving to the windows to check the security system. Everything appears normal, but the crawling sensation beneath my skin suggests otherwise. "There's a dangerous shifter in the area."
"There have been dangerous creatures near here before." She follows me as I circle the house, checking locks. "What aren't you telling me?"
I pause at her bedroom window, and stare out at the dark trees at the edge of her neighborhood.
"I think it's hunting me," I say finally, turning to face her.
Mom's face pales. "You think it can sense your magick?"
"I don't know." I rub my arms, trying to ease the electric feeling that's become almost painful. "But I'm not taking chances with your safety."
“My safety? What about you?”
"Mom, please." I take her hands. "I need you safe so I can focus. If something happened to you because of what I am—"
Fear flickers across her face, but is quickly masked by the stubborn determination I've inherited.
Her pupils dilate, the slight tremor in her fingers betraying what her voice won't. She's terrified—not for herself, but for me.
I see the calculations running behind her eyes, weighing her pride against my peace of mind.
"I'll pack," she says suddenly, squeezing my hands. "But I'm not leaving until morning. Even if I left now, I wouldn’t get to Carrie’s until one or two in the morning."
Relief floods through me. "Okay. Yeah. Thank you."
While Mom packs a small suitcase, I double-check each window, reset the motion sensors, and check the batteries on the outside cameras. Whatever's out there, it won't get to my mother without me seeing it first.
Midnight finds me sitting in the darkened living room, cleaning my sidearm for the third time while Mom sleeps down the hall. The house creaks and settles in the wind. Outside, a light rain has started, droplets pattering against the windows in irregular rhythms.
The electric sensation hasn't subsided. If anything, it's intensified, a persistent awareness that something is nearby. Watching. Waiting.
I move to the window, careful to stay out of sight as I scan the street. Nothing moves outside except the tree branches blowing in the wind.
A sudden, sharp spike in the electric sensation makes me gasp. My head snaps up, eyes scanning the darkness outside. Nothing visible, but every instinct screams that something is approaching.
I check the security app on my phone—all sensors showing normal. But the feeling persists, growing stronger with each passing minute.
Then, just as I'm about to wake my mother and run her straight to my car this second, the perimeter alarm silently triggers on my phone. Motion detected in the backyard.
My body moves before my mind processes it—weapon drawn, spine rigid, breath suspended in my lungs.
The sensation beneath my skin spikes from irritating to unbearable, like lightning seeking ground through my bones.
This is it. Whatever's been stalking the edges of my consciousness has finally arrived.
I move to the kitchen window, staying in shadow as I peer out. The security camera feed shows two figures moving through the darkness—human shapes traipsing through the neighbor’s front yard. But not the massive wolf I was expecting.
Burglars? Enclave agents? No one has ever been able to prove I had magick. There’s no tech that can do that… at least none I’m aware of.
I grab my sidearm and move silently toward the back door, the electric sensation pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Human intruders weren't what I expected, but they're still a threat.
And no one threatens my family.