“And how do you plan on doing that?” Ramirez asked.
“Honestly? I have no idea.” Wanting to end this before I spilled any more pack secrets, I leaned forward. My side pinched with the movement, and I ignored it. “Can I ask you a question?”
Special Agent Morgan nodded. “Yes. Of course.”
“What do you want from me?”
“You’re very straightforward.” Special Agent Ramirez leaned back in his chair.
I didn’t think he did that because he was afraid of me, but I wondered… “It’s been a really rough few days—as I’m sure you’re aware. My father woke me up from only a few hours of sleep to come talk to you, and I just want to know what’s going on. Am I in trouble?”
“No. Not at all. We’ve talked quite a bit to Mr. Dawson, and we understand what’s going on with Ms. Alvarez.”
Okay. Then, what was I doing here? “So, what do you want from me?”
“Basically, we’d like to have you as a point of contact.”
A point of contact? “But I’m just a kid. I’m sure Mr. Dawson or one of the other Alphas would love to be your point of contact.”
“I’ve given my information to others, but I’d really like to form a relationship with you. You’re eighteen. That’s an adult in this country. You’re part-witch. And, although Mr. Dawson mentioned that you only very recently had contact with any other witches, you managed to save some from Ms. Alvarez. That tells me that I can trust you to do the right thing, even when it’s hard.”
I wasn’t sure that was true, but I wasn’t about to contradict him.
“You’re also part-human from your father’s side, which means you can understand what the general public is going through right now. Because you were bitten, you—of all the werewolves in this world—have a unique perspective on the supernatural world.”
When he put it that way… “I guess that’s all pretty accurate.”
“Good. We wanted to interview you so we can get to know each other. As with any relationship, there needs to be a level of trust. We want you to trust us—to feel okay coming to us—when problems like those with Ms. Alvarez come up. In the interest of starting on good terms, we’re going to pretend that your pack didn’t break all kinds of laws while covering up a major crime, but next time, we won’t. So, let’s not have that happen again. If something comes up, we’d appreciate a call.” He made it sound nice, but his voice had a distinct ‘or else’ tone to it. He pulled out a business card and scribbled on the back. “That’s my cell number. If something happens—especially when non-supernatural people are around—I want a call. No more burning houses to the ground.”
I swallowed. They had a big point. We should have been in big trouble. Not that that had been my idea, but I wasn’t about to stick it on Dad. Not to the FBI. “Got it. No more covering up crime scenes.” Shit. Did I just admit to something bad? “Not that I was a part of anything like that.”
Agent Morgan grinned. “We’re aware.”
My hands were sweating as she stared me down. “Can I ask you another question?”
“Sure.”
“Which one of you is Mulder and which is Skully? Because you both seem very Mulder-ish with your blind belief in all of this stuff. It took me a while to come to terms with it, and I was a Were. I couldn’t ignore it for long when people were shifting in front of me—when my own body wanted to shift. I had to adjust and quickly.”
Agent Morgan’s smile broadened, and this time I thought it might be genuine. “Just as you said. No one gets to be skeptical when there’s proof in front of you.”
“Right.” I guess that was true, but I’d had issues with it for weeks when I first got to St. Ailbe’s. It took me a while to finally give in and let myself shift forms.
“And if we ever have any questions, we want you to be available to us,” Morgan said.
I swallowed. That didn’t sound too terrible, but I had a feeling it was going to be more complicated than that. “Okay.” Wait a second. “Don’t you need my number?”
Agent Ramirez grinned and it wasn’t the nice one that Morgan had given me a second ago. The twinkle in his eye gave him an air of mischief. “We’re the FBI, Miss McCaide.”
That was totally creepy.
I took that as my cue to leave, and slid away from the table while the agents leaned in to talk to each other. Dad and Dastien approached me as I closed the door.
“Well,” Dad said. “Is everything okay?”
“I think so.”
“What did they want?” Dad asked.