TIES THAT BIND, Jay Halstead

002.

Jay stood outside the BAU headquarters, the towering building casting a shadow over him as he stared at the badge in his hand. The cold metal felt heavy, like a weight he hadn’t expected. FBI. It was official now. He was no longer just a detective in the Intelligence Unit of the Chicago Police Department. This was the next step in his career, but it also felt like a leap into the unknown.

He had seen the worst of the worst in Chicago—dealt with gang members, drug dealers, and murderers—but this, this was different. This was the Behavioral Analysis Unit, a place where minds twisted into knots and people who were already broken came to be dissected. It wasn’t the same as chasing down criminals on the streets. Here, the enemies were invisible, and the stakes were always higher.

Taking a deep breath, Jay walked up the steps to the entrance. He pushed open the heavy door, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he moved through the building. Agents were scattered around, working at their desks, some on the phone, others typing furiously. But his eyes were drawn to the small group gathered around a table in the middle of the room.

Alba Rodrigo stood at the head of the table, her posture straight, her expression unreadable. She was a woman who commanded attention without saying a word. Her reputation had reached him long before he’d ever set foot in this building. Cold, methodical, and unflinchingly tough, Alba was the kind of agent who didn’t tolerate mistakes—and certainly didn’t tolerate weakness. She was the type to leave a trail of bodies behind her in the pursuit of justice, and Jay wasn’t sure if that made her terrifying or admirable.

Even though Aaron Hotchner was the unit chief, it was clear from the moment Jay stepped into the room that Alba was the one in charge. Hotch might have the title, but it was Alba’s name that everyone respected—and feared. He’d heard the rumors about her—how she didn’t play by the rules, how she didn’t care about protocols if they got in the way of solving the case. He was about to see it for himself.

As Jay approached the table, he caught the eye of Spencer Reid, who was sitting off to the side, his face buried in a case file. Spencer’s eyes flicked up, studying him with that intense curiosity that Jay had already come to expect.

“You must be Jay,” Spencer said, his voice calm, almost detached, as if he were reciting a line from a book. “Alba’s told us a lot about you.”

Jay stopped for a moment, then extended his hand, but then quickly retracted it, remembering the odd thing he’d heard about Spencer’s aversion to physical contact.

“I’m Jay Halstead,” he said, trying to mask his awkwardness. “Nice to meet you.”

Spencer smiled politely, but didn’t move to shake his hand. “I don’t shake hands,” he explained. “Studies show that handshakes spread more germs than a kiss. I prefer to avoid unnecessary contact.”

Jay blinked, caught off guard by the strange statement. “Well, I’m all for avoiding germs,” he said, forcing a chuckle.

“Good,” Spencer replied, his smile widening. “You’ll fit in just fine here.”

Jay chuckled again, but his mind was already elsewhere. He turned his attention to the others in the room. Derek Morgan, the muscle of the team, was leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed, giving Jay a respectful nod. JJ, the team’s communications liaison, gave him a warm smile, her eyes kind but assessing. But it was Hotch who caught his attention next. The unit chief was standing at the back of the room, arms folded, his sharp eyes trained on Jay, evaluating him like a predator sizing up its prey.