33. Tessa
TESSA
Istay in the bookstore because that’s where I’m most useful. Not out on the perimeter where Archer and the others are holding the lines. Not in the forest where whatever is coming is starting to take shape. Here. At the center. At the point everything feeds through.
The radio hums constantly now, no longer a background detail but a lifeline. My phone rests in one hand, notebook open on the counter in front of me, lines of names, locations, and routes filling the pages faster than I can process them.
“North ridge holding,” someone reports.
“East road clear for now.”
“South perimeter has movement but no engagement.”
I log each update, rerouting information as quickly as it comes in.
“Copy north ridge. Maintain position.”
“East road, redirect overflow evac to Main Street.”
“South perimeter, confirm visual before advancing.”
My voice stays steady even as my pulse refuses to. Delilah moves in and out of the bookstore, coordinating evac groups, her expression tight but controlled. Brooke checks in every few minutes, giving me short updates before heading back out again.
We’re all moving like parts of a system. A system that’s working. For now. I glance at the door for what has to be the tenth time in as many minutes. Not expecting. Just… aware. Because the more this unfolds, the harder it is to ignore the feeling that something isn’t right.
Not just the attack. The pattern. They’re pressing from multiple directions, testing the town’s edges, forcing us to spread out. And that means—
“Don’t go there,” I mutter, shaking the thought off before it can fully form.
My phone buzzes again. Unknown number. That alone is wrong. Everyone who should be contacting me is already in the system. I hesitate for half a second, then answer.
“Who is this?”
Silence. Then a voice. Smooth. Controlled. Too calm.
“I was hoping to reach you directly.”
Every instinct in my body goes on alert.
“Who is this?” I repeat, sharper now.
A soft chuckle.
“You’re more perceptive than the others. That’s good.”
Ice slides down my spine. I end the call immediately. My hands don’t shake. I don’t let them. Instead, I tap into the patrol channel.
“Conrad, we may have compromised communication lines. Unknown contact just reached me directly.”
A pause.
Then Conrad’s voice: “Understood. Stay alert. We’ll trace what we can.”
Stay alert. Like I’m not already stretched to the limit. I set the phone down, forcing myself to breathe evenly. Focus. Information. Control what I can control. Another update comes through.
“West side just reported movement—”
“Hold west,” I cut in. “Do not pursue beyond line markers.”
I write it down. Track it. Keep moving. Minutes pass.
Or maybe seconds. Time doesn’t feel stable anymore.
The bookstore door creaks softly. I look up immediately.
A man stands in the doorway. He looks like a traveler.
Backpack. Dust on his boots. Neutral expression.
Completely unremarkable. Except he shouldn’t be here.
Evac routes are clear. Civilians have been redirected. No one should be walking in. Not now.
“Sorry,” he says easily. “Didn’t realize you were closed.”
My gaze locks onto his. Something about him doesn’t sit right.
It’s subtle. Too subtle for anyone who hasn’t already been watching for it.
His posture is relaxed—but controlled. His eyes flick once around the room—not with curiosity, but with assessment.
He’s mapping exits. Just like the others earlier. Every nerve in my body tightens.
“We’re not open,” I say evenly. “You need to head to the town center.”
He smiles slightly.
“I think I’m exactly where I need to be.”
The words settle heavy in the air. Too deliberate. Too precise. I don’t move. Neither does he. But the space between us shifts. Predatory.
“You should leave,” I say again, my voice firmer now.
He takes one step inside. Then another. Slow. Measured. Closing distance.
“No,” he says softly. “I don’t think I will.”
My adrenaline spikes, but my mind stays sharp.
“Conrad,” I say into the radio without looking away from him. “We have an intruder inside the bookstore. Repeat—intruder inside.”
The man’s smile widens slightly.
“Smart,” he murmurs. “But not fast enough.”
He moves. Not like a human. Too fast. Too direct.
Straight for me. I react without thinking, shoving the counter between us as I grab the alarm switch beneath it and slam my hand down.
A piercing siren erupts through the building.
The sound cuts through everything. Through the radio chatter.
Through the tension. Through him. For a split second, it throws him off.
That’s all I need. I move. Not away. Around.
Keeping distance. Forcing him to track me.
“You’re not taking me anywhere,” I snap.
His eyes flash. There it is. The truth beneath the disguise. Felix Navarro. I don’t know how I know. But I do.
“You’re important,” he says, circling slightly, adjusting to my movement. “More than you realize.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I shoot back.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
He lunges again. I grab the nearest thing I can—a heavy book—and throw it straight at his face. It doesn’t stop him. But it slows him. Enough. I dart toward the back exit. He cuts me off. Faster. Stronger. Too close. His hand catches my arm. Grip like iron. Pain shoots up my shoulder.
I twist hard, using momentum instead of strength, slamming my free hand into his throat.
It doesn’t do much. But it’s enough to break his grip. I yank free and stumble back, heart pounding.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” he says, irritation slipping into his voice now.
“Good,” I fire back.
The alarm continues blaring. Loud. Relentless. A signal. Not just to the town. To Archer.
To everyone. Felix hears it too. His expression shifts slightly. Calculating. Time is no longer on his side.
“You’re not worth losing the opportunity,” he says quietly.
I don’t like the way he says that. Like this was one move in a larger game. Like I’m a piece. Not the objective. Footsteps pound outside. Fast. Closing in. Felix hears them. So do I.
He exhales once, sharp.
“Another time,” he says.
Then he moves. Not toward me. Toward the door. Gone. When I reach the front, he’s already disappeared into the street. Just like that. Like he was never here. Except he was. And he almost—
The door slams open. Archer. He’s inside in an instant, eyes scanning the room, locking onto me.
“Tessa.”
“I’m okay,” I say immediately, even though my arm still aches and my pulse hasn’t slowed.
“What happened?” he demands.
“Felix Navarro,” I say. “He came for me.”
Something dangerous flashes across Archer’s face.
“Did he touch you?”
“Yes,” I admit. “But I got free.”
“He shouldn’t have gotten that close.”
“He didn’t get what he wanted,” I counter.
“That’s not the point.”
“It is,” I say firmly. “He failed.”
Archer studies me. Then nods once.
“You did good,” he says.
The words hit harder than they should. Because I know what almost happened. And so does he.
“He’s not done,” I add quietly.
“No,” Archer agrees. “He’s not.”
The alarm still echoes faintly in the background. Outside, I can hear movement—shifters locking down the area, securing the perimeter. Too late for Felix. But not for what comes next. I meet Archer’s gaze.
“He wasn’t just trying to grab me,” I say. “He was confirming something.”
Archer’s eyes narrow. “What?”
“That I matter,” I say.
Silence settles between us. Heavy. Certain. Then Archer exhales slowly.
“That makes you a target,” he says.
“I already was,” I reply.
Now it’s just confirmed. I straighten slightly, ignoring the lingering tremor in my arm.
“We don’t have time to fall apart over this,” I say. “The attack’s still happening.”
Archer hesitates. Then nods.
“You’re staying here,” he says.
“I’m coordinating from here,” I correct.
His gaze holds mine. Then, reluctantly, he steps back.
“Call if anything changes,” he says.
“I will.”
He turns and disappears just as quickly as he arrived. And just like that, I’m back in the center. The node. The anchor. Only now I know exactly how visible that makes me. I pick up my phone again. Steady. Focused. Unshaken. Even if it’s not entirely true.
“Alright,” I say into the channel. “Status updates. All units.”
Because if they’re coming for me—
Then I make damn sure they have to go through the entire town to get there.