Carolina Moon

Badge and Blood: K.C.

I leaned my head back against the sofa, my hand still interlaced with Tess’s. The smell of her vanilla candles was trying to fight the acrid scent of the basement still clinging to my skin, but it felt like the odor had been burned into my senses. I found myself talking, not about tactical grids or Alphas, but about the cabin. It was safe, it was calm, it was grounding, and hopefully, it had been left that way.

“The floorboards are made from wide planks of heart pine,” I explained, my voice dropping into a slow, steady rhythm. “I spent two months just sanding them down. In the mornings, when the sun breaks over the creek, the whole place smells like resin and woodsmoke. It’s quiet, Tess. There’s no city traffic or noise, just the wind in the trees.”

I wasn’t just describing the house. It was the life I wanted to give her. Quiet, peaceful, grounding. Somewhere she could feel safe. I could see her imagining it too. Her eyes softened, clinging to the picture I was painting like it was a life raft.

I’d already imagined it - more times than I cared to admit - waking up beside her with the sun casting golden light through the bedroom windows, sipping coffee on the front porch with her. I had every intention of starting a garden when the spring came. Not just flowers either, I was going to grow food. Tomatoes, peppers, berries.

The familiar crunch of gravel broke the spell, and a set of bright headlines were visible, even through the curtains. I could feel the enforcers’ adrenaline spike as a cold wave of anxiety washed through them. Marcus’s hand instinctively went to his holster.

“Everyone out of the kitchen,” I ordered, my Alpha tone leaving no room for argument. “Marcus, take the guys out back.”

He responded with a respectful nod, and the five wolves slipped silently out the back door.

Grady didn’t knock like a cop. He knocked like a man who thought he was interrupting a funeral wake. I opened the door, and the Sheriff of Cypress Hollow stepped into the bungalow, looking like he’d aged ten years in a single night.

Grady looked at me, then at Tess, then at the soot-covered tactical gear that was piled in the corner. “I just came from the plant, K.C.,” he said, his voice gravelly. “It’s a war zone down there. Some military guy from Charleston is callin’, claimin’ domestic terrorism. He’s talkin’ about you. Sayin’ you did the same thing to a couple places in Kingsport.”

“Stroud,” Tess murmured.

Grady didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The glance he shot in her direction confirmed everything.

I already knew before he arrived that I wasn’t going to try to give him any kind of cover story. I looked him dead in the eye, and let the amber of my irises flare just enough to be unmistakable. His eyes widened, lips parting, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. “I didn’t burn that plant to hurt this town, Grady. I burned it to stop Gideon Stroud from turning your neighbors into lab rats.”

I laid it all out. I explained exactly what had happened in Kingsport, and why, the S-Grate, and the fact that I’m not just a carpenter who got lucky. Tess even spoke up and added the part about her kidnapping in Kingsport, and how she came here to escape what had happened.

I told Grady exactly what I am. “There are things in this marsh you’ve spent your life protecting that you don’t even have names for. Stroud has names for them. He calls them ‘Assets.’”

Tess turned her laptop towards him, showing him the mirrored data she pulled — the pings all over Wrenford County. She highlighted his own name on a “Behavioral Monitoring” list.

“They’ve been watching you,” she explained softly. “They’re looking to see if you’ll be a cooperative partner or a disposable obstacle.”

Grady stared at his name on the screen for a long time, his face hardening. He looked down at the badge on his chest, then at me — the man who helped him rebuild his porch after a hurricane took it out.

I watched the moment he made a decision. He didn’t arrest me. He pulled a chair out. Gray unclipped his radio and placed it on the table as he sat down. “So what’s the plan then?” he asked.

“We’re not hiding, we’re regrouping. I have a team in the backyard right now, and I have a team coming up from Kingsport to sweep the cabin and make sure it’s safe. Stroud isn’t coming just for me, he’s coming for the whole county.” I looked at Tess, then out the window towards the tree line where the enforcers were hidden. “We’re not going to let him take this territory. Not without a fight.”

Grady nodded slowly. After a prolonged silence, he spoke up, “You know, I was wonderin’ how some military consultant knew about the fire when I hadn’t even reported it outside of the local fire department yet.”

“He was trying to spin the story before you could start investigating it,” Tess confirmed. “He wasn’t banking on K.C. telling you the truth.”

“Where are Stroud’s men now?” I asked.

“They’ve been detained and are being booked into holding at the county jail.”

“Then you need to be careful,” I told him, leaning forward. “Those men are mercenaries on a corporate payroll. Stroud isn’t gonna let them sit in county lock up for long. He’ll either find a way to extract them, or he’ll make sure they don’t talk.”

Grady let out a weary breath. “We’ve got some of the best deputies in the state there, but after seeing that map… I don’t know who I can trust with a key anymore.”

Tess tapped a few keys on her laptop, her brow furrowed. “The data mirror shows a backup channel to your department server. It was established three weeks ago. Any report you file, any evidence you log, goes straight to a private server in Charleston the second you hit ‘save.’ Be careful with what you record. Don’t input anything you don’t want Stroud to know.”

The silence that followed was heavy. I watched Grady. I could see the way his world was shifting. He wasn’t just a sheriff anymore. He was a man pulled into the middle of a shadow war he didn’t ask for. “What do you want me to do?” he finally asked, looking at me again.

“Your job,” I replied firmly. “Process the scene at the treatment plant. Document the illegal tech. If Stroud’s people show up with paperwork trying to take over the investigation, make them show their IDs. Make them wait.”

“If things get sideways at the jail,” Tess added, writing the number for the burner phone on a post-it note. “Call this number. K.C.’s pack isn’t just for show. They’ll protect this town.”

He took the post-it, stared at it for a long while like he was trying to memorize it, then pocketed it.

When Grady left, I could see the purpose in his eyes. I could feel his resolve coming off of him in waves. At least we had someone that could buy us time while we waited for Leon’s next call. My wolf was still unsettled though, pacing behind my ribs. If the cabin was lost, we’d have to reevaluate staying at the bungalow. Here though, I felt like we were sitting ducks.