I stare at the blank screen, rage boiling beneath the surface of my carefully controlled expression. Years of loyal service, risking my life to hunt these creatures, and he dismisses my concerns like I'm some rookie fresh from training. My jaw aches from clenching it so hard.
The man's never been in the field, never waited for backup that arrived too late, never lost family to one of these monsters. And now he's standing between me and protecting my mother.
I return to my seat, hands clenched to hide their trembling. Ghost is awake now, watching me with those perceptive eyes that see too much.
"Problem?" he asks.
"New development stateside. Missouri." I slide my tablet across to him, letting him see the footage. "Less than fifty miles from my mother's house."
His expression softens at the mention of my mother. My team is one of the few people who knows where she lives, and who knows a creature killed my father. "Hayes won't reassign us?"
"Team Echo is already on it."
Ghost scrolls through the footage again, frowning. "That's not Echo's usual beat. Weyland doesn't have experience with shifters."
"That's what I said."
He hands the tablet back, studying my face. "We'll wrap Rome quickly, and if Echo hasn't contained the situation by then, we'll request a follow-up assignment."
It's the best he can offer, and we both know it. I nod, pulling out my personal phone to send a message to my mother: Possible situation near you. Stay indoors for a few days. I'm handling it.
Her reply comes quickly: I've been handling myself for years, sweetheart. Focus on your job.
I want to tell her it's different this time. That something about this creature feels off. Instead, I send a text to Mark Sanderson, an ex-GUIDE agent who retired to a cabin close to my mother's place. He still owes me for saving his team in Bucharest.
Need eyes on my mom. Potential feral wolf shifter nearby. Will owe you.
His response is immediate: No debt. I’ve got her. You stay focused.
"Ghost, can I talk to you?" I tilt my head toward the galley at the back of the plane.
His eyes open immediately and he follows without question, keeping his voice low once we're alone. "What's going on, Blades?"
"I need you to promise me something." I rarely ask for anything personal, and his expression tells me he understands the weight of this request. "If Rome goes south, if we're delayed coming back, I need you to make sure Sanderson stays with my mom until the situation with the wolf shifter is resolved."
"Of course." He frowns. "But this seems like more than your usual protectiveness. What's wrong?"
I hesitate. Ghost understands family better than anyone on the team. His daughter Emma means everything to him—her drawings decorate his tactical locker, her school schedule dictates which missions he'll fight Hayes on. If anyone would understand this visceral need to protect my mother, it's him. The fact that he's also senior enough to pull strings with Sanderson on my behalf if needed makes him my only real option.
"I've got a bad feeling about this one. I can't explain it."
"Your instincts have never steered us wrong before." He studies my face, concern evident in his eyes.
"It's just..." I run a hand through my hair, frustration bleeding through. "Nothing about this feels right. We're chasing a creature across Europe that matches what killed my father—the one thing I've been hunting since I started at the academy. But then something equally dangerous shows up practically in my mother's backyard right when we're halfway across the world?" I lower my voice, leaning closer. "That's not coincidence, Ghost. And if I have to choose between finally getting vengeance for my father or making sure my mother stays alive..."
The conflict tears at me—duty versus family, vengeance versus protection. My life's mission standing against my only living connection left. The irony isn't lost on me that I've spent years hunting monsters to avenge Dad, only to potentially lose Mom to one in the process.
"We'll finish Rome fast," Ghost promises. "In and out, clean kill, on a plane back before Echo has a chance to mess things up."
"And if they do?"
Images flash through my mind—Team Echo unprepared for what they're facing, the wolf tearing through them like tissue paper, then moving on to nearby towns. To Mom's street. To her front door. And me, thousands of miles away, unable to do anything but listen to the field reports come in.
My hands curl into fists. I've spent my career making impossible choices, but never one that could cost me everything that matters.
His hand lands on my shoulder, solid and reassuring. "Then we'll clean that up too. Your mom will be safe, Astrid. I promise."
"What are we promising?" Sherlock's voice breaks the moment. He stands in the galley doorway, expression neutral but eyes sharp, missing nothing.
