A woman was dead.
A woman who looked like her—brunette hair, bue eyes, same build and features. Her throat had been slashed, and she’d been left behind a coffee shop in Blackridge like a message. Like a promise.
You’re next.
The walls of the operations room closed in. Claire’s chest tightened. Her vision tunneled.Not again. Not another panic attack. She’d just had one a few hours ago. She was past this, wasn’t she? She could handle?—
“Claire.” Wolf’s voice cut through the spiral. “Look at me.”
She couldn’t. The room was spinning. That woman.Dead because she looked like me.
Dead because the Countdown Killer was here. Dead because?—
Strong hands gripped her arms. “Claire. Eyes on me. Now.”
She forced herself to focus. Wolf’s face. His green eyes. Steady. Solid.
“Breathe,” he said.
“I can’t—” Her voice cracked. “She’s dead. She’s dead because of me.” She gulped air. “Because he couldn’t find me, so he killed her instead and?—”
“Up.” Wolf pulled her to her feet. “We’re leaving.”
“What? No, I need to?—”
But he was already moving, one arm around her waist, half-supporting her weight. Lynx and Grizzly exchanged glances. Vivi started to follow.
“Stay,” Wolf said to Vivi. “Coordinate with the local PD. I’ve got her.”
“Commander—” Vivi started.
“I’ve got her.”
Claire barely registered the hallway. The turns. The door opening. Then she was in a different room. Smaller than hers and starker. A bed, a desk, tactical gear stacked on a chair No personal items. No photos. Nothing that made it feel lived-in.
Was this Wolf’s room?
He set her in the desk chair, crouched in front of her. “You’re not having a panic attack.”
“I think I am.”
“No, you’re angry. Furious. And you’re trying to bury it under guilt and shame. That’s why you can’t breathe.”
Claire shook her head. “I’m horrified. I’m?—”
His voice was hard. “That woman died because a predator is hunting you. You’re enraged. You want to tear something apart. But instead, you’re trying to be professional and controlled. The good FBI agent who doesn’t lose her composure.”
“I need to stay calm.”
“You need to stop lying to yourself.” He stood, crossed his arms. “Get angry, Claire.”
“That’s not?—”
“Get. Angry.”
“Stop it.”
“He killed a woman tonight. Slit her throat and left her body like garbage. And he did it because he couldn’t get toyou. Because we’re keeping you safe and it’s pissing him off.” Wolf’s voice was relentless. “So he murdered an innocent woman to send you a message. To make you feel exactly what you’re feeling right now. Guilty. Responsible. Like it’s your fault.”
