“Phone taps and informants. We’d been monitoring them for a while, because they were selling illegal performance enhancing medications to terrorists.”
“I didn’t see Adrian Friedman with the other shifters,” Coral said sadly. “He must be dead. How terrible for his mother.”
Flint smacked his forehead with his hand. “I completely forgot to tell you. He’s not dead. We have him. When he started investigating and risked exposing the Metamorph operation, we had to shut him down. We knew the only way that we’d be able to rescue all the kidnap victims was to bust their operation on the day of the meteor shower, but Adrian was about to blow it for us. We picked him up and we’ve been holding him in protective custody ever since. He’s been released now; he’s being put on a plane to reunite with his family.”
“You what?” Coral was outraged. “You held a reporter prisoner for weeks to prevent him from writing a story?”
“Coral, we had no choice. Dozens of lives were at stake, at a minimum. And if Metamorph had succeeded with their operation, and if they’d been able to develop a race of Supershifers, it would have caused devastation on a global scale. If Adrian had printed his story, Metamorph would have panicked, and relocated their operation to another part of the globe. There are other spots where ley lines cross, not as powerful as the local spot, but close. And we wouldn’t have been able to find them in time.”
Coral folded her arms and glared at him, stewing. “I don’t like it.”
“I understand that, but it is what it is. You’ll have to get past it. I didn’t used to like reporters, but now I’m in love with one.”
“Really? Who? I’ll beat her ass.”
Flint smiled. “That’s my smart-mouthed stubborn wolf.”
“But you’re going back to Seattle. Aren’t you?” Her heart skipped a beat waiting for his answer. He put his thumb under her chin and tipped her face up to look at him.
“My family wants me to stay here. And because of the fact that they’re Original Shifters, I still feel like there’s some potential danger to them. I’d feel safer if I moved my operations out here, and lived on the property. What about you? Have you given any thought to what you’ll do next?”
Before she could answer, her cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her purse. “Hold that thought,” she said to Flint. She answered her phone.
“Coral Colby?” a man inquired eagerly.
“Yes?”
“How’s my favorite superstar reporter? Still looking for a job, I hope?”
“Who is this?” she asked.
“It’s Mr. Espinosa! Remember me? We met at the journalism fair. Remember?”
She stared at the phone for a minute. She’d stumbled into the biggest story of the year; a Pulitzer wasn’t out of the question. Opportunity was calling. She could quit working at this tiny little newspaper and move back to New York. She would have her pick of journalism assignments now. She could work anywhere.
She glanced back at Flint, the man she was falling in love with, the man she couldn’t imagine living without. She looked over at Blanche and Maybelle, who were headed towards the door of the hospital, already arguing with each other. Her other line beeped, and she saw that Mr. Brewster was calling her, no doubt impatient for her to get back to the newspaper and start writing up her story.
“Who?” she said to Mr. Espinosa, and hung up the phone.
She turned to Flint, leaned in and brushed her lips against his.
“I am exactly where I want to be, and I am with the man I’m meant to be with,” she said. “And now, take me back to the newspaper, you big stubborn bear. I’ve got a story to write.”
THE END