Page 5

Nothing could have prepared me for the scene that Damen unhurriedly led me into. Instead of chaos and worry, the atmosphere was light. Every officer present, except the one who’d thought to seek Damen’s help—Jamie, if I recalled his name correctly—was behaving unprofessionally.

An unconscious man lounged in an uncomfortable-looking position on Mr. Weaver’s green couch while Jamie stood close to his head.

The nervous man glared at the other four officers—men who had gathered around Mr. Weaver’s dining room table and were giggling at their fallen comrade while they partook in Mr. Weaver’s prized Rocky Road ice cream and other various goods.

“Stop laughing, you nitwits!” Jamie scowled at them. He was clearly the only normal one in the group. “And stop raiding the kitchen; you’re eating the evidence! Hasn’t anyone done their assignments?”

I hadn’t paid much attention to the officers upon our arrival—Damen’s flirting had done a thorough job of distracting me—but now that I was, I couldn’t help but notice that there was something off about this group.

The air was familiar yet different. The men held a similar energy to Titus. My skin tingled with uneasiness. I stepped closer to Damen, who, in turn, was watching the scene in vague curiosity.

Whereas before, I hadn’t been very concerned about the people around us, I was now less confident.

Were these even real policemen?

They’d noticed my arrival, too—they were throwing curious glances in my direction.

What was it about their eyes that brought back memories? Damen’s impassiveness slipped. He grasped my hand and squeezed it gently. My rising unease lessened, and the urge to hide faded. No words needed to be spoken. He was with me.

I was okay.

“It’s not the ice cream,” the burliest of them said as he removed his feet from the table. He looked again in my direction, and Damen scowled.

“See, we’re fine,” the man said, addressing Jamie. He gestured around the group. “It has to be the suspicious-smelling pork Seth ate while cataloging the kitchen.”

I narrowed my eyes. There was no way they were professionals.

“Excellent!” Mr. Weaver suddenly appeared behind me. “I told you the pork was wrong. Now go, foolish children, and figure out why someone would target me.”

With every word out of his mouth, I was more disinclined to assist him.

Damen cleared his throat and guided me past the unscrupulous group toward the couch. “It looks like you’ve got your hands full,” he told Jamie. “I did let him know there might be an issue. Do you need my assistance in the meantime?”

Jamie’s mouth twisted in a pondering scowl, and he twirled his handlebar mustache. “It’s just a precaution. I should be okay with controlling them.” He glanced toward me. “But you should probably leave,” he told Damen.

Damen squeezed my hand. “Are you sure?” he asked, and I caught a hint of worry flickering in his eyes when he glanced at me. “You’re not exactly Ada.”

“I should be fine.” Jamie shrugged and looked at his fallen officer with exasperation. “Hopefully, he’ll be up soon. We don’t need you.”

I glanced between the two of them. What did any of this have to do with Titus?

A sense of unease pooled in my stomach. What was it from, exactly?

Was it how the others watched me whenever Damen's back was turned? Or maybe it was the fact that they’d drawn obscene graphics on their unconscious friend's face before diving into the snacks.

Perhaps it was the dawning realization that a deadly poison did not affect these people. Maybe they weren’t even human at all.

I had a bad feeling about this.

“Damen…” I tugged on his shirt. “Should we leave?”

“Yes.” Jamie perked at my suggestion. “Listen to your friend, Abernathy. I’ll send you my notes later.”

“How am I supposed to create an accurate profile from your scribblings?” Damen argued. “You aren’t even remotely qualified to do my research.”

Despite the situation, my chest swelled in pride. Damen clearly took his work seriously .

Mr. Weaver, who’d been lingering near my shoulder, chimed in. “Come to think of it,” he said, glancing at Damen. “Now I wonder…” He looked at me again and quickly quipped, “I’ll see you later,” before vanishing again.

I didn’t have time to worry about Mr. Weaver. At that moment, the burliest man—a blonde with a square face—stood from his seat.

“Your girlfriend seems to be nervous.” He smirked and dusted off his thighs. “Maybe she doesn’t feel safe around you.”

Damen—who’d been deep in thought—snapped to attention. But it was an instant too late. The man had made his approach and was grinning down at me.

Was it just me, or were his teeth extra pointy?

He held out his hand. “As a defender of the law, I can’t let that stand,” he told me. “Why don’t you come with me, pixie?”

I shook my head and grasped my trembling hands against my chest. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I would rather not go anywhere with him, ever. I wanted to leave. This room was dangerous.

Damen moved between us, pushing me a step behind him. “Jamie,” Damen said, his body was rigid, and his voice held the low threat of a warning.

“Conner!” Jamie spoke from my left. “Stand down at once. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Damen and I were backed into a corner, yet he remained calm. He moved his touch to my elbow and pulled me closer against him.

“You know regulations,” Damen said, looking between the two men. “This is a trial run only.”

“To hell with your bullshit regulations,” Conner growled. “I’m tired of all this training.”

A chill swept through me. His eyes were wild and animalistic, and with his statement, there was a flurry of movements that I could barely see from my vantage point.

“Great Mother of Abe!” Kasai—whom I’d completely forgotten about—suddenly dropped from the air to land beside me. “What drama!”

Was it me, or was the bird thrilled? It was difficult to tell.

The following words confirmed my analysis. “This has been the most excitement that I’ve had in years,” Kasai said, fluffing with delight. “Master, do I have your permission to eat them?”

“No!” Damen snapped. “Not today. Their thought processes are compromised; it wouldn’t be fair.” The corner of his jaw was tight as he looked toward the shikigami. “We need to get her out of here.”

Oh, now he wanted me to leave. I glanced around the space. It seemed a little too late for that. However, Damen’s tension was contagious, and where before I’d been wary, my nerves were beginning to escalate to fear.

Damen turned to face me, placing his hands on my shaking shoulders. He lowered his face toward mine, and the burning regret in his eyes made my muscles tighten.

“Baby girl, there’s a lot about this world that we haven’t been able to go over with you yet, but there’s no time. Right now, you need to listen to me. I’ll distract them, so you need to get out of here when there’s an opening. Don’t stop, no matter what you see.”

Despite the fog clouding my thoughts, I still looked at him skeptically. I wasn’t sure which surprised me more, the return of the nickname or his odd request.

“What?” And just where was I supposed to flee, exactly? It wasn’t like I could leave him.

Damen groaned. “Please listen to me. Go—”

A loud screech rang in my ears, and before I could blink, the wind was knocked out of me. Damen was thrown against my side, and I was harshly pushed into the wall. We fell to the floor. Damen laded on top of me, and my ribs ached from the impact.

The collision left me breathless. I barely had a chance to moan before Damen cursed, moving to all fours above me, freeing me from his crushing weight.

"Bianca!" Damen gingerly touched my face, and I blinked at him, waiting for the stars to vanish from my vision. "Are you okay?"

"I..." I gasped, curling the tingling fingers of my left hand before raising it to touch my temple, which now hurt. "I guess so," I told him.

I’d had worse.

My attention moved from us and toward the strangest fight I’d ever seen.

Kasai was swerving in the air against three snarling dogs. The dogs, in turn, appeared to be trying to get to us while trying to escape the shikigami.

Only three other officers were left in the room: Jamie, the poisoned Seth, and Conner. Conner watched us with an unsettling gaze, his face a mask of deranged happiness as he laughed eerily.

I could only stare.

I didn’t consider myself someone who jumped to conclusions, but only an idiot would believe that two men left the room and were replaced by animals in seconds. And I wasn’t an idiot.

The paranormal was real. Demons were real… What Damen had been trying to tell me earlier…

Shifters were real, too, apparently. But these didn’t look like wolves—more like mutated dogs. I couldn’t place them.

I should have been more surprised. But instead, I only felt a hollow victory. I lay still, curling my fingers in the front of Damen’s shirt, as my mind wheeled in a whirlwind of questions .

For example, what was the biological cause of a shifter’s ability to change?

Perhaps there was a rapid change in the sequence of their DNA.

Or was there something else involved? Did a shifter lose all sense of humanity once transformed into their beastly counterpart?

If someone died in their animal form, would their ghost remain as an animal?

How, in the name of Charles Robert Darwin, did any of this work?

Although this wasn’t the most suitable time for my scientific mind to come out to play, it had also not escaped my notice that the animals appeared somewhat rabid. All three dogs were foaming at the mouth, and their eyes were wild.

Jamie had fallen to his knees and held his head as his shoulders shook. Meanwhile, Conner stopped laughing and stepped forward as the three dog-like creatures—which I still couldn’t quite place—ceased their movements. His face remained twisted in a pointed grin, and he watched only me.