"Ma’am?" the officer prompts again, his hands grasping the sides of his bulletproof vest. He looks relaxed, but he’s probably ready to take down if I act out of line.
Never before have I thought, oh, I should be careful or an officer might tackle to the ground.
Yet another thing on my list of firsts in these recent weeks. If God can stop throwing these at , it’d be great. Not a single one of them would have ever ended up on my bucket list anyway.
Resigned to my fate, I just say, "I have no idea what happened. I was going ho, and she attacked . She’s my ex-fiance’s lover." No point in ntioning his murder here; I’m sure they already know about it. And if they don’t, they’ll know all about it when they look everything up.
He nods, jotting sothing down in a small notebook. "And your na?"
"Nicole d’Armand."
As the officer continues his questioning, I kneel down to finish gathering my scattered papers. My hands still tremble, and I can feel the beginnings of a massive headache pulsing behind my eyes.
The crowd begins to disperse, their entertainnt for the day apparently over. But I can still feel their stares, hear their whispers. In their eyes, I’m no longer just the woman whose fiancé was murdered. Now I’m also the crazy ex who attacks grieving lovers in broad daylight.
God, what a ss.
I stuff the last of the papers into my bag, not caring that they’re crumpled and out of order. All I want is to get out of here, to find so quiet corner where I can lick my wounds and try to make sense of this latest disaster.
As I straighten up, clutching my bag like a lifeline, I catch sight of my reflection in the lobby’s polished marble walls. My hair is a ss, my borrowed clothes rumpled and askew. There’s a wild look in my eyes that I barely recognize.
The officer’s voice pulls back to reality. "Ms. d’Armand, we’re going to need you to co down to the station to give a formal statent."
I nod numbly, too drained to argue.
* * *
It’s ti for dinner by the ti I leave the police station.
Again.
Seriously, I should just rent a room here. I’m sure it’s far from the last ti I’ll be called in for questioning. Maybe I can just rent a hotel nearby.
Oh, yeah. I need to get a new car. That would make traveling easier, too. I should do that. Soon.
Cool air nips at my skin as I stand outside the police station, waiting for my rideshare. My mind races, replaying the day’s events on an endless loop. Another round of questioning, another set of suspicious glances. I’m exhausted, emotionally drained, and desperate for a mont of peace.
Which apparently ans I have a flashing neon sign above my head inviting people to bother .
A presence materializes beside , familiar yet unwelco. It’s Ethan, the vampire sniffing around Penelope. Just what I need to cap off this stellar day.
"Is it too much to expect a greeting?" His voice carries a hint of amusent.
I keep my eyes fixed on the street, willing my ride to appear. "I don’t know you."
"Co now," he chuckles, his charm dialed up to eleven. "We t just a few days ago. Surely you rember?"
The sky above us is a blanket of gray, threatening rain at any mont. I find myself wondering about vampires and the absurdity of it all. Here’s this immortal creature who wields umbrellas against the sun but walks around unbothered by the prospect of getting drenched, basking in the blocked sunlight.
"How long has it been? Since you were turned, I an."
Ethan goes still beside , the easy charm evaporating. "I didn’t expect such a rude question from you."
A humorless smile tugs at my lips. "I’m a rude person. Don’t expect much from ."
He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Point taken. Twenty years, if you must know."
Twenty years. A blink of an eye for his kind, I suppose. But long enough to leave a trail of broken hearts and drained victims.
"And how many won have you fed from in that ti?"
Ethan steps half in front of , eyes wide and eager. "I don’t play around, Nicole. My interest in Penelope is quite serious."
I say nothing, hoping my silence will discourage further conversation. The last thing I need is to encourage soone who really does give off stalker vibes.
My phone buzzes—the rideshare is two minutes away. Thank God.
Ethan shifts beside , clearly uncomfortable with the prolonged silence.
"Look," he begins, his voice low and earnest. "I know you’re protective of Penelope. I respect that. But I assure you, my intentions are honorable."
I can’t help but scoff. "Honorable? You’re a vampire pursuing a human. There’s nothing honorable about that power imbalance."
Ethan’s lips curl into a smirk. "Is it really so different from a human mated to an alpha shifter?"
My eyes snap to his.
His smile widens, revealing the barest hint of fang. "Oh, co now. I know all about it. I’ve been kind enough to keep quiet, you know."
My stomach twists. I’m not sure what ga he’s playing or what his end goal is, but I don’t like how he’s sohow switched the conversation from Penelope to Logan. Is this so sort of vague threat, or is it just a simple blackmail? Does he think Logan and I are actually together? Penelope ntioned there’s no love lost between them. Sothing about jealousy.
Maybe that’s all it is.
But with all the weird shit happening around , it’s hard not to be paranoid.
"I’ve heard quite a bit of interesting news lately," Ethan continues, his tone deceptively casual. He’s undeterred by my lack of response, just talking away.
Despite every instinct screaming at to ignore him, I can’t help but listen.
"For instance," he continues, "there are rumors that Officer Logan Everett has rejected his fated mate." Ethan’s eyes widen in feigned shock. "If that isn’t true, it seems he might have to be taken off a certain high-profile case. Conflict of interest, you know."
Whatever he knows, he doesn’t seem to realize that Logan and I aren’t exactly on friendly terms. I don’t care if he’s off the case.
Okay, maybe I do. The chance of soone actually being on my side isn’t one I can ignore out of pride.
"Isn’t it already be a conflict of interest, even with a rejection?" The words are out before I can stop them. Damn it. I’ve just confird his suspicions.
Ethan laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. "Oh, Nicole. You should know that’s not how it works when you have money and influence behind your badge."
My eyes narrow slightly. "What money and influence do you think is there?"
"That’s the question, isn’t it?"
A car pulls up to the curb, and a quick glance at my phone confirms it’s my rideshare.
Ethan, in a surprising and creepy display of chivalry, steps forward to open the car door for . The gesture feels more threatening than polite.
"Do stay safe, Nicole," he says as I slide into the backseat.
Reviews
All reviews (0)