Page 26

Erik

The moment they separate us, I know it’s not a good sign. A second police car arrives, and Inessa and I are taken to the station in different cars. The last glimpse I have of her is of her pale face as she’s guided into the car, her features drawn into a firm expression.

It’s squashy in the back of the car. I’m tired from being woken early and my belly rumbles angrily. In our rush to get out, I didn’t even get my phone.

After a half an hour of waiting in an interview room, I’m allowed to make a phone call to let Kivrayn know I won’t be at work today.

Then it’s right back to waiting until finally, a shifter with the telltale flash of orange in her eyes and a crisp red and blue uniform enters the room. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Sergeant Burroghs. I need to go over a few questions with you about the fire. ”

“OK.” I’m not really sure what all the fuss is about, but I suppose they’re just dotting i’s and crossing t’s. I’m sure if I try to be helpful, they’ll let me take Inessa home—well, not home, because I don’t know what state it’s in. But a hotel anyway.

“When did you first notice the fire?”

I scratch my head. “Well, I don’t know what time it was. I didn’t stop to check. My wife woke me, and that’s the first I knew about it.”

She makes a note on the paper in front of her. “And when your wife woke you, what did she say?”

I frown. I can’t remember that. “I dunno. I guess she was worried. Our dog was barking. It was real smoky in there.”

She makes another note. “How long have you been married?”

“Only a day. We had an orcish handfasting back near my parents’ place.” I’m smiling just remembering until the sergeant makes a thoughtful little humming noise.

“And how did you meet your wife? How long have you known her?”

I can’t see what this has to do with anything. This feels more like small talk than an interview question, but I guess the sooner I answer, the sooner I can see Inessa. “A few months. We met online. I found her ad and the agency fixed us up.”

“Her ad?” One dark brow lifts as the shifter fixes me with a searching look.

I shift in my seat. There’s nothing illegal about an arranged marriage, is there? “Well, she was looking for a monster.”

“She was looking for a monster?”

Is she just going to repeat everything I say with that skeptical look on her face? I’m doing this wrong. I have the feeling I’m about to land us in hot water, but I don’t know how to avoid it. I’m just being honest. Isn’t honesty the best policy?

“She wanted to marry a monster.”

“I see.”

“I wanted to marry a human. Well, I would have been happy with anyone, I was just lonely. But now...”

I thought this would be persuasive, but the shifter’s brows furrow. “So let me get this straight, you were lonely and she wanted to come to America?”

Oh, I see where this is going. “No. It wasn’t like that. Well it was, but we’ve gotten to know each other. We’re in love.”

“Hmm.”

I don’t like the sound of that noise.

She makes another note. “How often is she alone in the apartment?”

I blink. At least she’s changed the subject. “Well, every day while I’m at work. She hasn’t found a job yet and her visa wouldn’t let her work until we got married.”

“And now that you’re married, what happens if you die? Would she return to Russia? Has she got family there?”

“No, she doesn’t want to go back. Ever.” I’m proud of myself for not revealing the truth of Inessa’s situation. I don’t even realize I’ve said the wrong thing until it’s too late.

“Thank you, Mr. Thorvarsson. You’re free to go. Your wife will remain in custody until we've finished questioning her and determined whether or not she can be released.”

“Wait, custody? She’s been arrested?”

“You’ll need to take the dog with you. Thank you for your time. ”

Out of habit, I stand as she does, but she goes to the door and holds it open, giving me a very pointed look that says we’re done here.

“Wait, where’s Inessa?”

“Sir, she’ll be released when we’ve finished questioning her.”

“I need to see her. Please. I just need to be sure she’s OK.”

The sergeant pauses. I see the hint of orange flash behind her eyes as she shifts uncomfortably. “Your kind don’t have mates, do you?”

“Yes we do!” It’s a struggle to keep my voice at a reasonable volume. I take a breath and try again. “Yes we do. It might not be fated mates the way you shifters have, but I promise you I feel it just as much. Please!”

She lets out a long sigh and looks over her shoulder. “OK, but only for a minute.”

The sergeant leads me down a corridor away from the entrance and stops in front of another closed door. There’s a window in the wall. Through it I see a metal table and two chairs. The room is plain and empty. No Inessa in sight.

Beside me, the sergeant pauses with her hand on the door handle. “Oh, that’s strange. I thought—”

She’s cut off by the furious sound of yapping and the scrabble of little paws on tiles.

Shouts echo through the corridor. “Hey! Someone catch that dog!”

Seconds later, Snickers comes galloping around the corner, leash trailing behind her and an older human with gray hair and a rumpled uniform hot in pursuit .

She scurries over, but when I bend to pick her up, she growls. Dodging my hands, she darts in and takes a mouthful of my trousers and yanks hard. “Hey! Snick, what’s got into you?”

She yaps again, spinning in circles and looking up at me.

I’m baffled. I’ve never seen her act like this before.

The older man stops, breathing hard and leaning on his knees.

I stoop and snatch up the leash so Snickers won’t get into any more trouble. She immediately leaps forward, stretching the leash tight, yanking on it with all her might.

The female sergeant who interviewed me turns to her colleague. “Rob, did someone move Mrs. Thorvarsson? I thought she was being held for questioning?”

Rob frowns. “Questioning? No. A fancy guy in a suit came in with an order to transfer her uptown.”

“What guy?”

Rob shrugs. “Beats me. I’ve never seen him before. Looked foreign. Had an accent. The paperwork was all in order.”

“Then she’s not here?” I look between the two of them. Snickers yanks on the leash.

Rob shrugs again. “They just left.”

No. Something’s not right here. There’s no reason she would be transferred somewhere else. And a guy with an accent? She’s been worried all week about her brother.

I leap into action, dashing forward. Snickers yips and breaks into a run with me.

At the corner, I call back over my shoulder, “So you said I’m free to go? ”

There’s no answer, which I take for a yes. If they’re gonna arrest me, they’ll have to catch me first. Right now I’m more worried about Inessa.

Snickers and I scramble around the corner and she leads me through corridors back to the station house entrance. We burst through the doors and onto the street, startling passing pedestrians and making a woman on the sidewalk shriek and jump out of our way.

Snickers runs straight onto the road. Normally I’d stop her, but today she’s the boss. She’s been trying to tell me all this time and I didn’t get it until now.

She tugs me into the street. Cars beep and swerve to miss us. I charge after her, keeping an anxious eye on traffic even as I try to scan the area for any sign of Inessa.

Rob said they just left. Will we be fast enough to catch them?

We have to be.

I can’t face the alternative.

Snickers charges straight in front of a truck, and there’s an awful moment where I don’t know if the driver can stop in time. Tires screech. People from the sidewalk scream.

The truck stops so close that I can reach out and pat the hood. I give the driver an apologetic wave and keep running.

On the other side of the road, a black car pulls out wildly from the curb. Snickers whines.

“Is that them, girl?”

She barks loudly.

They’re picking up speed, but there’s no way I’m letting them get away that easily. Stooping, I grab Snickers and tuck her under my arm. Then I gather my strength and drop my chin to my chest. My thigh muscles scream. I pump my free arm and throw all my energy into speed until I’m catching them.

As we come alongside the car, I catch a glimpse of Inessa, bound and gagged, lying sideways on the backseat.

Suddenly my muscles have new power. My lungs draw in more air despite the burn.

I drop my shoulder and barge into the side of the car, knocking it off course. It narrowly misses a red car coming the other way, and my heart jumps into my throat. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.

Well, maybe whoever has tied up my beautiful goddess like that, but not bystanders.

I’ll have to be more careful.

My chest is on fire now. I’m wheezing. Under my arm, Snickers wriggles and barks. It’s not helping. I can’t afford to slow down to put her down though.

I need to stop this car immediately.

Gritting my teeth, I put on a final burst of speed. We’re approaching an intersection. The driver shows no sign of slowing. I try to grab hold of the side mirror, but it snaps off in my hand. I toss it away, praying it doesn’t hit someone.

In a final desperate move, I throw my body over the hood of the car, keeping the side where Snickers is still tucked beneath my arm out of harm’s way.

There’s a crunch and a squeal of tires. Metal buckles beneath me. With a jerk, the car skids to a halt and I roll onto the road, jumping up as quickly as I can, expecting to be run over.

I’m safe from that at least .

The car is stationary and the hood completely crushed and caved in. Thick black smoke pours from the engine.

The driver’s door is thrown open. I have a split second to react. A man in a suit with a cruel face and blond hair leaps from the vehicle, raising a gun.

I do the only thing I can think of to do.

I drop Snickers and throw my whole weight forward into the door of the car, slamming it into the man with all my strength.

There’s a bang.

A sharp sting of pain.

I drop to my knees.

Snickers yelps.

For an awful moment, I think she’s been hit. I see blood splattered on the pavement and I look around frantically, trying to work out where it got her only to realize it’s not her who’s been shot.

There are shouts from up the street, back toward the police station, but I can’t process them.

I’m staring at the place on my arm where dark green blood gushes from a wound that throbs. My head feels light and hazy.

I stumble to my feet. The man who shot me is lying on the ground beside his car and his face is not a pretty sight. His hand arm is splayed beside him, the gun lying on the ground. His eyes are closed.

I can’t spare more time to look him over now that I know he’s no longer a threat. Every fiber of my being needs to know that my mate is OK.

I hurry to the rear door and tear it open. My shoulder protests .

My knees tremble and I almost stumble when I first see Inessa again.

Then she moves and I could weep with relief. She lifts her head and lets out a muffled noise.

She’s alive!

She’s OK.

She’s going to be OK.

With shaking hands, I help her to sit and gently prize the tape from over her mouth.

She winces. “Erik! You’re hurt.” Her hands are still cuffed behind her back.

“It’s nothing,” I tell her. “Just a scratch.” I’m searching for the keys, but of course her kidnapper didn’t leave them in the car.

I hate seeing Inessa like this though. She struggles forward, but she can hardly move.

Reaching around, I grasp the metal chain between the cuffs and simply snap it. She gasps and pulls her hands into her lap, rubbing at the cuffs still fastened around her wrists. I help her from the car.

Then turn to find a gun and a taser both pointed at me and five police officers with riot shields looking like they’re worried I’m going to crush them all.

I hate how much I intimidate people.

A huge werepanther in beast form—almost as tall as I am—growls at me from my left, and when she speaks I catch a hint of the sergeant who questioned me earlier. “Hands where we can see them. Do not move. ”

I sigh. Then I raise my hands slowly into the air. “I’ll do whatever you want and answer all your questions, but can someone please take these cuffs off my wife?”