by Layla Nash
“We’ll start at the beginning,” she said, and flipped open a notebook. She attempted a smile, though the way her teeth were a bit pointy made me think of Smith. Maybe she was the same sort of thing he was? The detective frowned at Dodge. “You can go, wolf.”
The thought of Dodge not being there made my stomach sink. He couldn’t leave. He’d seen more than me, and he no doubt actually remembered the details that a cop would need to unravel what happened. All I remembered was panic and the sour taste in my mouth, and the dull squish of a human foot hitting the floor.
I wanted to ask him to stay. I needed him to stay, needed to feel his warmth next to me. But my lips wouldn’t move. I couldn’t unlock my jaw to articulate how much I needed Dodge to sit next to me and lend me some of his strength. It felt like I’d completely lost the ability to exist on my own. The alligator was too close to the boat and I didn’t want to face it alone.
Todd shoved to his feet and jerked his chin at Dodge. “Let’s go. We’ve got to check on Silas and help Deirdre mess with whatever is wrong with him. She’s still mixing potions but we need to make sure Silas is secured before the witch tries anything.”
Dodge tensed, then strode off stiff-legged without a backward glance. I watched his retreat and struggled to breathe normally. It was okay. It would be fine. It was just me and the detective in someone else’s living room.
O’Brien’s head tilted as she watched me. “I know this must be overwhelming. Evershaw said you had something of a shock when you were here the first time, and it was followed by the events that Smith called me about. Just take a deep breath. We can take as long as you like, take whatever breaks you need.”
I wanted at least a week’s break. I wanted it to be over with without any input from me. Couldn’t she just go snooping around Ms. Bridger’s businesses? It seemed like everyone knew she was a loan shark and master mobster, but no one had done anything about it. None of those powerful, intimidating people had bothered to hold her accountable, and they expected me – a weak, terrified human – to step up and do the hard work?
I rubbed my temples and struggled to find something to say. I started shaking my head and then couldn’t seem to stop. A band tightened around my chest until I couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t see much. I don’t think I’ll be very helpful.”
“That’s okay. We’ll just go over what you saw and heard, then I have some questions about the sanctuary that Bridger set up and what you’ve observed there.” She sounded so confident. I envied her her certainty. She had a badge and a gun to protect herself. I didn’t have anything.
She still watched me, waiting for something, so I took a deep breath and nodded. I could tell her some things and try to answer her questions, then I was definitely curling up in a dark room and hiding under the covers until I figured out what the hell to do.
O’Brien nodded back and wrote something in her notebook. “Okay. Let’s start with when you arrived at the sanctuary yesterday. Walk me through what happened.”
I stared at the coffee table between us instead of trying to meet her intense gaze. “I wasn’t supposed to be working, but Geordie called me in to handle a delivery, and...”
She interrupted me occasionally to ask for more details, like Geordie’s full name and how long he’d worked there. I didn’t mind the delay. I didn’t want to think about what happened in the kitchen. I didn’t want to have to describe that. My heart pounded faster as I described everything leading up to it, though I slowed down a lot as it got closer. I curled up tighter on the couch, drawing my legs up and wrapping my arms around my knees, wanting to hide behind a cushion or something solid. I couldn’t forget that some of Bridger’s guys still lurked outside, trying to decide if I was a threat to their boss.
O’Brien studied me with her head tilted, weighing and measuring, and eventually she attempted a smile. “Why don’t we pause for a second? Maybe Mercy can make us some coffee.”
I didn’t want coffee. I wanted to hide. But I forced myself to nod and agree, all the while wondering where Dodge was.
Chapter 20
Dodge
He followed Todd through the kitchen to the back of the house and the external entrance to the storm cellar. Dodge didn’t like leaving Persephone there in the living room with the nosy detective, who would no doubt ask hard questions that would be difficult for the architect to answer. Not that he could have stood by while O’Brien caused Persephone distress.
Todd jerked his chin at the doors to the storm cellar. “Silas is down there. Evershaw gave him a few tranquilizers when we got back from the restaurant, so he’d be relaxed in case Deirdre needs to go down there and interact with him. He’s thinking that any spells she has to cast might not be... comfortable for Silas, and if they backfire, he could lose his mind entirely.”
Dodge turned around to go back to the living room to protect Persephone. “Then why the fuck do you want me down there? I can’t do shit about –“
“O’Brien has to talk to her alone,” Todd said, catching Dodge’s arm to keep him from storming back through the house. “You can’t be in there.”
“Fuck that,” he snapped. “She’s going to upset Persephone. There’s no reason.”
“Dude,” Todd said. He folded his arms over his chest and leveled a no-bullshit look at him. “You can’t interfere with the detective questioning Persephone. You’re not going to. O’Brien isn’t going to torture her, man. It’ll be an hour or two and then you can go back to following her around with puppy-dog eyes.”
Dodge growled and clenched his fists. “That isn’t –“
“You’re hard up,” the other man said. His eyes flashed gold for a moment, and a hint of darkness lingered in his expression – enough that Dodge’s wolf took notice. Todd hadn’t found his mate and instead had to watch as first Evershaw, then Henry, found theirs. Maybe Dodge, too. “Everyone can see it. But she’s human and she’s having a hell of a time with all of this. You need to prepare yourself for her walking away. If she’s your mate, it’s better that you figure it out and talk to her about it sooner rather than later. Don’t use this as another way to torture yourself.”
“I’m not torturing myself,” Dodge said. “She’s not interested. It’s fine. Just a little infatuation. It’ll pass.”
Todd’s eyebrows arched. “Bullshit. You can tell yourself that, you can tell her that, but everyone else sees the truth. Come up with a plan, Dodge. Figure out how to talk to her about this shit. Don’t use her to punish yourself for whatever you did in the past.”
Dodge tensed, eyes narrowed as he glared at the other man. Todd didn’t know what he was talking about. Dodge didn’t need to find new ways to punish himself for his previous life, for all the things he’d done or failed to do. His nightmares did the job well enough.
His silence must have spoken volumes. Todd’s lips thinned as he studied him, then the second-in-command nodded. “Go talk to Silas. Maybe he’ll give you some advice.”
Dodge growled but Todd had already moved past him and headed toward the other side of the house from the living room, where Deirdre and Evershaw still worked on some magical fix for Silas’s condition. Dodge stood in the kitchen and glared at the wall as he struggled with the urge to storm back through the house to loom over the detective and make sure she didn’t upset Persephone. He knew Todd might have had a point, that the detective couldn’t do her job if Dodge was there growling and snarling every time Persephone got upset.
But he knew that she would be upset, and it killed him to abandon her when she needed his help and protection. What the hell kind of mate walked away in the face of difficult questions and uncomfortable situations? Dodge forced himself to leave the kitchen and head to the storm cellar. As soon as the detective was done, Dodge would take Persephone to his room and make a nest for her so she could take her nap. Maybe he’d feed her again first, then the nap, then plan for the next alligator they faced.
Silence greeted him when he finally opened the cellar doors and
descended the stairs. Silas, secured to the wall with a long chain, hardly lifted his head when Dodge took the armchair across the room and poured himself a drink. Maybe whiskey would blunt the urge to break through walls to get to Persephone. He couldn’t shake the wrong feeling of being apart from her as she struggled. He hated it. Hated it.
Silas lifted his head and growled a bit, maybe reacting to Dodge’s heightened emotions, but Dodge waved at him. “Calm down, man. We’re trying to figure out how to help. The witch’ll be coming down here in a while to figure out making you human again. I’m in time-out so I don’t tackle the detective and get thrown in jail for assaulting a cop.”
The wolfman snorted air through his nose and laid his head back against the wall. His eyes gleamed gold in the half-lit cellar as he watched Dodge.
Dodge shook his head, running his hand through his hair. “Man, I wish you could talk. I need your input. There’s shit going on and I need a battle-buddy. I’ve gotta figure out what the fuck I’m going to do about – the girl.”
Silas blinked. Something in the way his head tilted made Dodge think – or at least hope – that the wolfman understood. That he was listening and paying attention and could eventually give Dodge a signal or advice. There was no telling how that would happen, but it made Dodge feel less like an asshole for talking to a crazy wolfman.
He drained his whiskey and poured another couple of shots, and leaned to retrieve a cigar from the small humidor he’d stashed in the cellar. Dodge took his time cutting the cigar and lighting it. He knew he was a coward for delaying saying what needed to be said. If he said it out-loud, it couldn’t be un-said. It might feel true and inevitable and – right, if he said the words. When they were just in his head, he could still deny it.
Silas grumbled and gave him a dark look. For a long moment, it felt like his human friend was back. Maybe he lurked deep inside and just couldn’t speak.
Dodge tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling as he puffed on the cigar. “The human you almost ran down yesterday morning. She’s mixed up in some bad shit with Bridger and her goons. They’ll probably try to kill her.”
Silas growled.
“I know, I know,” Dodge said. “It won’t happen, but that’s what we’re facing. She still doesn’t trust any of us, and she freaks out about everything new. She’s struggling with just the fact that we exist, that supernatural stuff is going on around her and she didn’t know it. I don’t think she wants to know. She wants to go back to not knowing any of it, not being affected by any of it. And there’s no going back.”
The wolfman blinked eyes that were suddenly more gold, more intense. Focused.
Dodge studied his cigar. “There’s something about her, man... She’s – different. The wolf is certain about her, more certain about her than anything else I’ve ever felt in my life. She’s ours. She’s meant to be ours. My – mate.”
He almost choked on the word. Mate. He hadn’t meant to say it, maybe dance around it instead. But it came out. Persephone was his mate. She was the other half of his soul, the only person who would complete him.
And as much joy as that brought him, he couldn’t forget how little she wanted to do with him. Knowing she was somehow tied to one of the supernatural creatures she wanted to forget existed was probably the worst news she could hear.
Except for more about Bridger’s goons tracking her down. That might have been the thing Persephone dreaded hearing, followed closely by being permanently tied to the pack.
Dodge took another deep breath and tested the thought. “She’s my mate. Persephone Lawson is the other half of my soul.”
His voice went rusty with emotion and he struggled to breathe for a long moment. He’d never expected to find his mate, to find anyone with the potential to make him happy. He’d given up on any kind of domestic bliss after growing up around his grandparents and their fucked up power dynamics, social posturing, and judgment. He’d given up on even short term relationships after leaving his last contract in Africa, after the nightmares got bad and he didn’t spend much time sleeping unless he was drunk enough to pass out. Dodge figured he’d be a bachelor until liquor or fighting killed him.
He cleared his throat but put aside the cigar so he could cover his face. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, Silas? She’s not – not ready for any of this. She barely understands what shifters are, what the pack means. She doesn’t understand mates. And why the fuck would she ever choose to stay with me? She can have anyone she wants – any normal human jackass with a normal job and a normal family. Why would she want to be with my scarred, broken ass?”
Silas’s head lowered and he growled again, temper flashing in his eyes. Dodge knew he understood what he said, since Silas didn’t tolerate the kind of self-pity that Dodge could be prone to.
Dodge made an irritated noise. “Oh, fuck off, asshole. You’re not even human right now. How about you give me shit when you can actually talk, hmm?”
And damn him if Silas didn’t roll his eyes.
Dodge picked his cigar back up. “I should let her go. If I was a good guy, I wouldn’t tell her about the mate stuff. I’d keep her safe until the shit with Bridger is resolved, and I’d let her go back to her normal life. Keep an eye out for her for the rest of my life, make sure she’s okay. Maybe that’s the best I can do for her.”
The wolfman growled and tensed, and his attention went to the cellar stairs. Dodge glanced over and started scowling as Todd poked his head in. “What?”
The second-in-command gave him a hard look. “Watch your tone, wolf. I’ll kick your ass across the lawn if I need to.”
Dodge grunted as he poured more whiskey, and waited for Todd to go on. The guy couldn’t keep his mouth shut for even a second, not when he thought he had something important to say.
Todd didn’t disappoint; he went on almost immediately, nodding toward the house. “Detective wants to talk to you. How drunk are you?”
“Not nearly drunk enough to talk to a cop and still be civil,” Dodge said.
“For fuck’s sake...” Todd pinched the bridge of his nose, then pointed at the spot next to him at the top of the stairs. “Go talk to her. The faster she gets what she needs to start investigating, the faster the cops will be able to deal with Bridger and keep Percy safe.”
Not that Dodge would have minded protecting Persephone for the rest of his life.
He shoved to his feet and knocked the coal off his cigar, putting it away for later. He raised the glass to toast Silas and said, “Thanks for listening, mate,” before draining the rest of the drink and trudging up the stairs to the kitchen.
The detective stood in the kitchen, studying a pot of coffee that brewed on the counter. Dodge folded his arms over his chest and ignored Todd lingering in the doorway, no doubt to make sure Dodge stayed on his best behavior.
O’Brien didn’t look away from the coffee. “Your girl is terrified.”
A growl escaped before Dodge could bite it back. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing, boyo. She can’t get through talking about what happened with the body choppers on her own. Normally I interview witnesses separately, so they don’t influence each other. I planned to talk to you after her and see whether you remembered anything useful, but since Persephone is falling apart, I figured you might have some ideas on how to keep her focused until we get through this.” O’Brien frowned at him, something fierce and ancient in her eyes. “You’re connected to her in some way; I can see the thread that tangles you together. Maybe your presence will steady her enough to provide the statement.”
Dodge tensed. He could absolutely steady Persephone. Steady and protect her. He nodded, one sharp jerk of his chin, and started toward the door to the living room. “Yes.”
“Let her tell the story,” O’Brien said. “Not a word until I ask you a question, understand? You’re just a prop so I can talk to her. Your interview comes later.”
He didn’t care if he was just a prop. It was e
nough, if it meant being close to Persephone when she struggled with telling her story. He nodded to the detective and muttered, “I’ll be in the living room with her whenever you’re done fucking around in here.”
The detective scowled but seemed more interested in getting coffee, so Dodge shoved through the door and searched for Persephone. She’d curled up in the corner of the loveseat, practically folded into the smallest ball possible, and rested her forehead against her knees, hiding her face. He took a deep breath and shoved down all the anger and rage he felt for her being so uncomfortable and sad. He gentled everything about himself before he approached. She needed soft and careful and quiet and gentle. She needed her mate to care for her, even if she didn’t realize what that meant.
He cleared his throat and murmured, “You doing okay, Lawson?”
She took a deep breath and looked up. The blaze of relief in her gaze nearly knocked him flat. She wanted him there, she didn’t look afraid of him or disgusted by him. Persephone shook her head in the negative, though, and whispered, “I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can,” Dodge said. He moved to sit on the loveseat next to her and carefully draped his arm along the back, giving her the opportunity to snuggle closer if she wanted to. He caught up the blanket on the ledge behind the loveseat and draped it over Persephone. Maybe a nest would make her feel better. “I know you can. You’re strong and brave and you’ve got this.”
“I don’t feel strong or brave,” she said, voice wobbling.
“Girl, you’ve had more shocks in forty-eight hours than most folks get in forty-eight years, and you’re still up and moving. You’re ready to fight for yourself. That’s strength and courage. I would know.”
Persephone leaned against his side, her head resting against his bicep. She held the blanket closer and stared at the door where O’Brien would reappear. “I’m glad you’re so certain, because I could use some of the confidence.”