Chapter 2 #3
The weight of that reality settles over the room. My double agent status has saved lives. Children freed from trafficking. Cursed objects destroyed before they could claim more victims. Intelligence that led to the dismantling of smaller operations across Scotland.
If Catriona exposes what I am, what the brotherhood does, the syndicate will burn it all down.
"How am I supposed to manage a cop who can't be bribed or scared off?
" The question comes out harsher than intended.
"She's not going to ignore evidence. She's not going to accept island politics as an excuse for criminal activity.
And she's definitely not going to trust a known smuggler who disappeared into a swirling mist right in front of her. "
"You shifted in front of her?" Finn's ancient voice carries something between curiosity and concern. "Broke the first rule?"
"I didn't have much choice. She was watching from concealment. I sensed her but couldn't confirm position. Shifting and getting out was safer than staying visible."
"She saw the transformation?" Grayson leans forward. "The mist? The change?"
"Probably saw the mist. Maybe caught a glimpse of a shape moving. Doubt she understood what she was seeing." I run my hand through my hair, frustration building. "But she's smart enough to know something impossible happened. And cops who believe in impossible things are dangerous."
"I could watch her," Rafe offers, his voice quiet and deadly. "Shadow-walk, monitor her movements, report back on what she's investigating. We'd have advance warning if she gets too close to anything that can't be explained."
The beast within rejects that suggestion with a possessive snarl that nearly chokes me. The thought of Rafe anywhere near her, watching her, following her through shadows, makes my animal want to tear through my skin and establish dominance in the most violent way possible.
"No." The word comes out too sharp, too aggressive.
I force my tone to something more reasonable.
"She's trained in surveillance. If she catches anyone watching her, it'll make her more suspicious, not less.
Better to let her investigate openly than drive her underground where we can't predict her actions. "
Declan studies me with those eyes that see too much. "You're volunteering to handle this personally."
The statement isn't a question but an observation that feels like a trap I'm walking into willingly.
"I'm the one she saw. I'm the one the syndicate contacted. Makes sense for me to manage the situation before it escalates." The logic sounds good. Professional. Strategic. It almost conceals the fact that the tiger won't let anyone else near her.
"Managing doesn't mean killing," Eliza says, her voice carrying warning. "We don't murder people, Kian. Even cops when they're inconvenient."
“I’m aware. I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, and some I am.
" I meet her gaze directly, letting her see enough truth to make her uncomfortable.
"I've killed people who deserved it and some who probably didn't. I've moved cargo that would make her sick to her stomach if she knew the details.
But killing a cop who's trying to stop child trafficking?
" I pause, feeling my tiger's snarl beneath the words.
"That crosses a line even I won't touch.
Not because I'm noble—I'm not. But because some prey you don't hunt without becoming the monster everyone already thinks you are.”
"Then help her." Declan's words cut through the tension. "You want to protect her? Give her what she needs to build a case against the human operatives. Feed her intelligence that takes down the syndicate's mainland network without exposing what we are."
"You're suggesting I work with a cop." The idea should horrify me. Instead, the tiger settles slightly, recognizing the path forward.
"I'm suggesting you find a way to keep her alive and keep our operations secure.
" Declan's alpha command settles over the room.
"The Cork shipment comes through in three days.
If she's alive and investigating, she'll be watching the harbor.
If she catches you moving cargo, your cover is blown permanently.
But if she catches you intercepting cargo and freeing victims, she might see you as an ally instead of a criminal. "
"Or she arrests me for vigilante justice and the syndicate kills us both."
"Then you'd better be persuasive." Eliza's voice carries something between sympathy and challenge. "You've spent two years lying to the syndicate. Surely you can manage one honest conversation with a cop who's trying to do the right thing."
"What way?" Jax's skepticism bleeds through every word. "She's not going to ignore what she saw. She's not going to drop the investigation. And she's definitely not going to trust you long enough for manipulation to work."
He's right. Every option I can think of ends badly. Scare her off, and she brings more cops. Bribe her, and she arrests me. Ignore her, and the Russians kill her. Explain what I am, and she runs screaming to authorities who'll dissect me in a laboratory.
"I don't know yet." The admission tastes like failure. "But I've gotten through worse situations through careful planning. I'll figure something out."
"Do it quickly." Declan's command settles over the room with alpha weight. "The Russians won't wait long. If they decide to act, we'll all pay the price when the mainland authorities descend on Stormhaven investigating a murdered police chief."
The meeting breaks up shortly after, brotherhood members dispersing to their own concerns and territories. I leave the abbey feeling more unsettled than when I arrived, my tiger pacing beneath my skin with restless energy that demands action.
Rain starts falling as I walk back toward the warehouse, cold drops that should clear my head but only remind me of standing on that dock, catching her scent on the wind, sensing her presence like a hunter recognizing worthy prey.
Except she's not prey. She's authority. She's law enforcement. She's human. She's also still breathing when the Russians want her dead, and my tiger will tear apart anyone who tries to harm her.
I pull out my phone and send a message to my most reliable contact in Glasgow.
Need full background on Catriona MacLeod. Everything. Personal history, weaknesses, pressure points. Money's not an issue.
The response comes quickly.
Will take a few days. She's clean, O'Donnell. Probably won't find much.
That's the problem. If she's as clean as everyone says, the Russians won't find leverage either.
And if they can't leverage her, they'll kill her.
Which means I need to get to her first. I need to assess the threat.
I need to determine if there's any way to manage this situation that doesn't end with her blood spilled or my secrets exposed to authorities who'll hunt me down.
My tiger prowls, agitated and demanding in ways I can't ignore. Wanting to find her. Wanting to protect her. Wanting her, period.
The tightrope I walk gets narrower with every step.
One mistake and the syndicate realizes I've been playing them for two years.
One mistake and children die in cages meant for supernatural creatures.
One mistake and the cop with heather in her scent becomes another casualty in a war she doesn't even know she's fighting.
But walking through rain-soaked streets toward the small police station where she's probably still working, my tiger within prowls with restless need that has nothing to do with staying alive and everything to do with claiming what it already recognizes as ours.
The Russians think I'm one of them—someone who solves problems with violence and doesn't lose sleep over collateral damage.
They're not entirely wrong. I've earned my reputation through blood and ruthlessness.
The exile from my clan, the bodies I've left behind, the operations I've destroyed along with everyone involved—all of it built the criminal the syndicate trusts.
But if they knew that in my mind, I’ve already claimed a cop I can't have, they'd put me down like the liability I'm becoming.
I'm fucked.