Page 115 of Crimson Moon Falling

“Ma’am, I’m not sure—” he began.

“They’re emotional support dogs,” I flatly lied. He glanced at Ash, who nodded. The man swallowed, checked his tablet, then directed us to the elevators.

Fernanda Stratton met us in a small conference room on the twenty-eighth floor. She was in her forties, with sharp, sunken eyes and silver streaks in her curly black hair, pulled back in a clip. She wore a navy blazer over a white shell and no jewelry except thin gold hoop earrings. Her energy was cool and focused, carrying the faint buzz of an Intuit. She stared at the hellhounds, blinked, then looked back at me.

“Ms. Blackthorne, or should I call you Alpha Mate? Or Ms. Segerson?” Fernanda’s voice was deep and measured. She stood and started extending her hand, then stopped short. Someone had coached her. Her eyes moved over me, cataloging the uniform, the white streak, and the bandages, then settled on the hellhounds.

“Riley is fine.”

“Call me Fernanda. Your companions are unexpected.”

“It’s been a rough few months. They go where I go.” I gestured to Ash. “This is Ash Rivers, First Beta of the Northwestern Mountain States Pack.”

Ash inclined his head. His energy remained steady, but I could feel the watchfulness radiating from him. He positioned himself near the door, close enough to intervene if needed, but far enough to give the appearance of privacy.

Fernanda gestured to the chair opposite her. A cameraman stood in the corner. “May I record this interview?” Fernanda asked, nodding toward him.

I inclined my head. “Please do.” The cameraman walked over, stuck small mics on us, then pulled back a little, likely to include the hellhounds in his shot.

“Madison Castillo was vague about why the Alpha Mate of the Northwestern States Pack wanted to speak with me.” Fernanda settled into her chair. “But then I got your email. Usually, when a Pack Alpha’s mate reaches out to the press, it’s about charity work or a publicity stunt.” She glanced at my clothes.

A small, humorless smile tugged at my lips. “I’m aware I’m not the usual Alpha Mate, and this isn’t a publicity stunt. I work as a special investigator for the National Park Service.” I kept my voice level. My implant processed the best way to disclose the information. “I’m also Conall Segerson’s Alpha Mate, a high-level Resonant, and a Spooler.”

The room went dead silent. Fernanda’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted behind her eyes—a recalculation and acute focus.

“A Spooler,” she repeated slowly. “As in, you can not only read energy imprints from objects and locations, but extract them.”

“Yes.”

She studied me for a long moment, then turned to the cameraman. “Are we rolling?”

He stared at me, then blinked and gave Fernanda a thumbs-up, pointing to the red light blinking on the camera.

Fernanda turned back to me. “You and Alpha Segerson haven’t been together very long, but I assume he knows.”

I nodded and resisted the urge to wipe my sweaty hands down my pants. “I believe that’s why he mated with me.”

She blinked, then pressed on. “You’re aware he is also a contract agent for the Federal Bureau of Cognizant Investigations when it suits him.”

“Yes. Most Packs have several FBCI agents in their ranks. As you’re probably aware, it’s often mandated by the Federal Central Government.”

Fernanda inclined her head. “You first met at the University of Colorado in Boulder?”

This woman had done some homework. “Yes. He and his partner tracked me down, and I helped with the case involving ApGen and the kidnapped Pack children. My Resonant abilities are why Conall and I met.”

“If you can really Spool, did he know it at the time?”

I gave her a small, enigmatic smile. “You’ll have to ask him, but as I said, he mated with me because I could Spool.”

“Please explain.”

“I think it’s self-explanatory. I was an unregistered, unknown Cog. Not a shifter. No wealth, no powerful family. My father disappeared in Rocky Mountain National Park when I was young, and my mother abandoned me shortly afterward. My uncle raised me.” I held her gaze. “The only reason a Pack Alpha would mate with someone like me is that my Cog abilities are powerful and unique enough to give his Pack an advantage.”

She nodded slowly and leaned forward. “It’s a trait he’d want to keep others from having, and one he’d hope to pass down to his children.”

“Yes.” I knew I had her at that moment.

I described my ability to read objects, how energy leaves impressions, and how I could Spool an energy thread. I didn’t cover the terrible blowback.