Page 30 of Fated By Fire

Obviously, that’s not an option.

My grim determination is rapidly running out. I’ve reached this point through pure good fortune. The fingerprint scanner may have been glitchy, but the chances of hitting another break are zero.

God, you’re an idiot!

What was I even thinking coming down here? Rushing in blindly with the promise of a big payday. So stupid!

Then again, I’ve come this far. Maybe I just need a closer look.

As I lean in, the scanner suddenly flares… and processes my data. I jump back as it emits anotherding,jarring enough to send goosebumps screaming across my skin.

“What the hell…?” I murmur, the door’s silent shift breaking my words as gears turn, allowing me entrance.

That was too easy. Just like the fingerprint scanner.

Were they expecting me? Is Caleb going to suddenly make his presence known and tell me they’ve been watching me all along? But that makes no sense. Why not just stop me?

And why would Caleb be hanging around waiting for me to break in? He has a security team for that. But I don’t linger on the thought. I step into the vault… and freeze.

The room glows faintly, bathed in an eerie reddish light. Centered on a pedestal is something I didn’t expect—a crystal. Large and jagged, it pulses faintly in the dimness like a heartbeat. Its light dances across the slick metal walls, and for some inexplicable reason, the sight of it makes my chest tighten. A strange sensation rushes through me, a weightless mixture of dread and familiarity that I can’t explain.

I step toward it cautiously, extending a hand. My outstretched fingers seem to be drawn to its surface.

“Oh, my God,” I whisper into air that feels heavy. I take another step.

And then, faster than I can react, a shadow emerges from my blind spot.

Fingers clamp down on my wrist, their grip ironclad as a low, measured voice cuts through the room like razors: “Care to explain what you’re doing here?”

I whip around, expecting to see a security guard or some watchful staff member. Or maybe Caleb.

But I don’t.

This man towers over me, the tailored edges of his suit precise and sharp, his presence a smothering weight. Every line of him is deliberate, from the crisp collar framing his neck to the polished silver cufflinks that catch the dim light. I glance up instinctively, and my breath freezes in my chest.

Ice-blue eyes. Piercing and unyielding, they drill into mine, measuring me in a way that makes my knees wobble. These eyes are unfamiliar, just like the angular planes of his face—sharp jaw, thin lips pressed into a line, every feature sculpted with chilling precision.

I don’t know him.

He’s not Caleb. He’s a stranger.

And I have no doubt he’s a threat.

Chapter 12

Caleb

The first sign of trouble comes in the form of Sloane’s raised voice.

“Wait! You can’t go in there!”

The door to my office flies open, and a stormcloud barrels in.

What the hell?

I push my chair back and rise from my seat. The woman standing before me is a whirlwind of neon hair, raw energy, and righteous anger. She’s dressed in a purple hoodie with an alien on the front, ripped jeans, and combat boots that have seen one too many battles.

“Where is she?” she demands, planting her hands on my desk.

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