"Police! Supernatural Enforcent Division! Open up!" The shout is clear, even through the closed windows of the SUV.
Silence follows. Then, another shout: "We have a warrant! Open the door or we’ll force entry!"
More silence.
I hold my breath, watching as Logan and the tactical team position themselves around the door. One of them hefts a battering ram, ready to swing.
The ram swings forward, connecting with the door in a resounding crash. Once, twice, three tis—and then the door gives way with a splintering crack.
Logan is the first one through, his gun drawn. The others follow close behind, their movents swift and coordinated. And then they’re gone, swallowed up by the darkness of the house.
I strain my ears, desperate for any sound, any clue as to what’s happening inside. But there’s nothing—no shouts, no gunfire. Just an eerie, oppressive silence.
The officer across from shifts, her hand moving to rest on her own weapon.
A crackle of static makes jump. The officer’s radio cos to life, spitting out a burst of code I can’t decipher. Her face remains impassive as she listens, but I see her shoulders relax slightly.
"What is it?" I demand. "What’s happening?"
She holds up a hand, silencing as she listens to more chatter on the radio. Finally, she turns to . "They’ve secured the premises. No imdiate threats detected."
Relief floods through , so intense it’s almost painful. But it’s short-lived as another thought occurs to . "What about Mr. Fernsby? Did they find him?"
The officer’s expression doesn’t change. "I don’t have that information, ma’am. I just need you to sit here and wait for Officer Everett, okay?"
I nod, slumping back against the seat. The adrenaline that’s been coursing through starts to ebb, leaving feeling drained and shaky.
Outside, more vehicles arrive. An ambulance pulls up, its lights flashing but siren silent. The sight of it sends a fresh wave of anxiety through .
I watch as paradics unload a stretcher, wheeling it towards the house with practiced efficiency. My throat tightens, making it hard to breathe.
"Ms. D’Armand?" The officer’s voice pulls back to the present. "Are you alright?"
"I’m fine. Just hoping no one’s dead," I admit quietly.
"That’s always the hope."
Two SED officers walk out of the large house with the strange woman handcuffed between them. She seems to know where I am, because her head jerks up and she glowers in my direction.
"Do you know her?" The woman beside asks.
"No. She’s the one who opened the door when we got here, but I’ve never seen her before."
"Hmm. Seems like she knows you."
I nod jerkily; it does seem that way, doesn’t it? But I have no idea why.
* * *
"Nicole?"
Logan’s voice startled out of whatever fugue state I’m in, and I blink owlishly at his beautiful, if grim, face. "Yeah?"
"Sorry. You’ve been sitting here for hours. Are you okay? I’ll take you ho."
"I’m fine. Don’t I have to go to the station for a statent?"
He shakes his head. "I already told them everything, and Nancy already took your statent. Sorry. I should have had her take you ho a while ago."
As I step out of the SUV, my muscles scream in protest. Hours of sitting have turned my body into a stiff, uncooperative ss. Logan’s hand steadies , his touch comforting. I stretch, willing life back into my limbs, the cool air nipping at my skin.
"What happened?"
Logan’s sigh is heavy. "I’ll explain it later."
His evasion sends a chill through . I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable. "Is Mr. Fernsby okay?"
Logan’s eyes et mine. "I’ll explain everything later," he repeats, his voice soft but firm. "For now, I want you to go ho and get so rest."
Soone calls Logan’s na and he tenses, turning to see who it is. When they call him over, he glances back at in hesitation.
I grab his arm. "You don’t have to take ho if you’re busy. I’m sure soone else can take ." It isn’t like I can order a rideshare on a freaking mountain.
Logan looks torn.
"I’m more than happy to take Nicole ho."
Nancy’s voice startles . I hadn’t noticed her approach. "Thank you, ma’am."
"No problem."
I force a smile at Logan, hoping it helps ease his sense of responsibility. "Nancy can take . You have work to do." I motion toward the hordes of people they’ve gathered. Thankfully, there are no reporters here. I guess they haven’t heard the news yet.
Logan’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. But then he nods, a short, sharp movent. "I’ll check on you later," he says, his voice low and intense.
Nancy gently touches my elbow, her facial expression never changing, as if she didn’t pay any attention to what’s going on between us.
"Ready to go?" she asks, her voice kind but professional.
I nod, tearing my gaze away from Logan’s back as he responds to the guy calling his na. "Yeah," I manage. "Let’s go."
The SUV’s tires crunch over gravel as we wind our way down the mountain. I glance at Nancy, her profile stoic as she navigates the curves as if they’re nothing. As if there aren’t cliffs on the other side of us.
Maybe she’s like Penelope and drives roads like this for fun.
"Thank you," I blurt out, my voice sounding too loud in the confined space. "For letting stay in your SUV earlier, I an."
Nancy’s eyes flick towards , then back to the road. "It’s my job," she replies, her tone brisk and professional.
Am I being paranoid, or has her attitude towards cooled significantly? Taking the hint, I fall silent again. Trees and bluffs streak past the window, their shadows growing longer as the sun dips lower in the sky.
As we round another bend, a strange sensation creeps up the back of my neck. It’s like a phantom touch, raising the fine hairs on my skin. I resist the urge to rub at it, instead casting furtive glances out the windows. But, of course, it isn’t like there’s anything to see beyond the scenery.
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