Page 23 of Fated By Fire
“Just finishing, huh?” Dorian drawls, his tone dripping with mockery. “A little private moment interrupted. How rude of me.”
Caleb’s jaw tightens, but he says nothing, his eyes locked on me. I feel the weight of his stare and the heat of Dorian’s sarcasm pressing in on me. My face burns, and I struggle to keep my composure.
“I should go,” I mutter, my voice hoarse. My mind is racing, the memory of the kiss still lingering but now overshadowed by the growing unease of being exposed. I can’t shake the unsettling feeling that I’ve just landed squarely in Caleb’s crosshairs—and Dorian’s too, for that matter.
As I brush past Dorian, he smirks, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s caused. “Do try to keep it professional next time, Jessica. Or at least less… obvious.”
I don’t respond. My head is still spinning as I make my hasty exit. The kiss, the tension with Caleb, Dorian’s mocking words—it’s overwhelming. And beneath it all, the gnawing worry that my real reason for being here is on the verge of being uncovered.
I quicken my pace, desperate to put distance between myself and the storm I’ve stumbled into.
Chapter 9
Elena
I stand at the window of my loft, looking out into the street below, clasping a steaming mug of coffee in both hands. This has got to have been the most unnerving case I’ve ever been involved in. I don’t know how I managed to get through the day after that kiss in Caleb’s office. I kept waiting for another summons. For him to materialize out of nowhere demanding more answers. Or to kiss me again.
God! That kiss…
But there’s more to it than that. The photo I saw at Craven Industries burns in my mind, impossible yet undeniable.
“So let me get this straight,” Mara says from her sprawl on my velvet couch, her electric blue hair spilling over the armrest. There’s a pink streak in it today. “You found a hundred-year-old photo of your mom looking exactly like she did when you were a kid?”
Turning to her, I set the mug on my desk and reach over to the corkboard, yanking the Polaroid of Mom off. My hands tremble slightly. The familiar image—Mom in her favorite sundress, smiling that secretive smile of hers—matches perfectly with the woman I saw in that sepia-toned photograph. Same high cheekbones. Same graceful neck. Same knowing look in her eyes.
“It’s her, Mara. I know how crazy it sounds, but it’s her.” I pinch my lips together as I frown down at the picture. I’d recognize my mom anywhere. It was her.
“Crazy is kind of my specialty.” Mara winks. “It’s probably why we’re best friends.”
“Nice. Keep that up, and you might be in the market for a new one.” I reach for my coffee, taking a mouthful as I keep staring down at the photo. As always, I’m struck by the resemblance between Mom and me. Same stubborn jawline, same pale gray eyes. Except she wore her dark hair really long, while I cut mine just below my shoulders.
“Maybe it was a relative,” I muse, looking up at Mara and holding the photo toward her. “See how much we look alike? What if my gran looked just like us, too? Maybe all of the women in my family had similar features, and the photo I saw was of some long-lost family member.”
“Who happened to work for Craven Industries?” Mara raises an eyebrow. “Nah. I’m going with your mom being immortal.”
“Don’t be nuts, Mara.” I shake my head. “No one is immortal. And I’m not saying she actually worked for them. It could simply have been a coincidence.”
“Nope. There’s no such thing as coincidences.” Mara sits up, her eyes gleaming with conspiracy-theory excitement. “You know what this reminds me of? My latest TikTok about shape-shifters. Did you know there are documented cases of beings that can maintain the same appearance across centuries? Some theorists think they’re actually—”
“Please don’t say aliens.” I scowl at her. “My mother was not an alien, Mara.”
I bite my lip, hating the fact that I just referred to her in the past tense.
“I was going to say interdimensional travelers, but now that you mention it…”
I collapse into the patchwork loveseat, pressing my palms against my eyes until I see stars. “I can’t deal with your supernatural theories right now. I’ve got bigger problems.”
“Like getting caught making out with your crazy hot boss?” Mara turns to face me, propping her boots up on the battered chest that doubles as my coffee table. An empty mug topples onto a copy ofWired. “I can’t believe you went back for more.”
“I did not go back for more, dammit!”
“Of course not. He called you in to chew you out, and you ended up sucking face instead.”
Heat floods my cheeks. My fingers find my mother’s locket, fidgeting with the clasp. “That’s not how it happened.” Actually, that’s exactly how it happened, but I’m not going to admit it.
“Oh honey, your face says otherwise.” Mara wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Come on, spill. How was it? On a scale of wet fish to earth-shattering?”
“Can we focus on the actual problem? Like how I’m supposed to investigate anything with Caleb watching my every move?”
