Chapter 17 What the Hell?
What the Hell?
Pascal
When someone bangs on your door at four in the morning, it can’t be good.
“Pascal?” Ansel sat up on the bed, disheveled and sleepy.
“Someone’s at the door.” I grabbed my sweats from the floor and slipped into them. Another salvo of loud knocking came from the hall.
“What’s going on? Who’s that?”
“Maybe a neighbor needs help. Please, stay here.”
Ansel blinked, frowning. I kissed his forehead and went to open the door.
Big mistake.
In my defense, my building had a doorman and security, so the last thing I expected was an intruder.
Three men burst into my apartment before I could ask them what they wanted. Two of them were muscly alphas in dark jackets, white shirts, and black ties. They flanked a third man, also an alpha, but he was leaner, wearing a silver three-piece suit and a haughty sneer.
“Can I help you?” I asked, my eyebrows raised. I backed toward the bedroom, placing myself between them and Ansel.
The fancy one in the middle cast me a disgusted glance and looked around. “Ansel? Ansel!”
Ah. I had a suspicion who that might be.
“You’re trespassing, gentlemen,” I said. “I hope you want to avoid a physical confrontation.”
None of the men paid any attention to my objection. I held my phone in my left hand. Without looking at my screen, I dialed nine-one-one.
With a swift kick I didn’t anticipate, one of the goons knocked the phone out of my hand.
Well, that was unfortunate. I assessed them, calculating who I’d better take out first and how to do it so I wouldn’t end up in jail.
“Ansel!” the leader called again.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed my mate at the door to the bedroom, wrapped in my bathrobe.
“Take your things,” the leader said. “We’re going to your parents.”
Ansel gaped for half a second before his face transformed into the most glorious image of fury I’d ever seen.
“Valentin. Are you insane? It’s four in the morning!”
“If you don’t want to pack, I’m taking you as you are.”
He took one step toward my mate, reaching out.
That flipped a switch in my head. I saw red. Avoiding jail didn’t seem so important anymore.
Shoving one goon to the side with my left arm, I gripped Valentin’s collar.
I lifted him off the ground, and he yelped, feet kicking in the air.
A loud sound of fabric tearing followed.
His jacket must have split at the seams. I threw him backward against one of my armchairs.
It toppled as he tumbled over it. He fell with a grunt.
The other thug charged at me, reaching into his inner suit pocket. Did he have a gun? I didn’t want to find out.
I threw myself at him, pinning him to the carpet under my weight. His shoulder popped when I wrenched his arm to the side. He roared, face scrunching up in pain.
A body landed on my back, an arm locking around my throat. I peeled it off and flipped the man upside down. Holding him by his calves, I shook him. His gun clattered to the floor, so I kicked it under the sofa before dropping him. He crumpled into a pile with a pained whimper.
“Pascal?”
Ansel stood frozen, mouth open, looking around at the three men writhing on my living room floor.
“We should probably call nine-one-one,” I said.
Bending over, I checked the alphas for any other weapons. I found a taser in the other goon’s inner suit pocket, so I threw it across the room and into the kitchen sink, where I knew a baking pan was soaking after our dinner. It landed with a splash.
“Pascal, how did you even…”
But before Ansel could finish the sentence, the elevator dinged in front of the apartment. Three men in dark suits filled the hallway.
Their guns were drawn.
It only took a split second. I jumped over one body, grabbed Ansel under my arm, and sprinted to the terrace. Angling Ansel so I shielded him from the intruders, I pushed the sliding door open. Then I lifted him high in the air.
“Onto the roof!” I yelled.
Ansel gripped the edge and swung himself over it while I supported his leg. I jumped and pulled myself up. My mate gaped at me, his hair fluttering in the wind.
“Now what?” he yelled. He pointed to the other end of the roof. “There’s a door. Can we check if it’s locked?”
Shaking my head, I dropped my pants.
“Oh.”
Ansel stumbled backward a few steps as my body transformed, claws shooting out and wings spreading. He got a little pale, but then he dove between my front legs and snatched my sweats from the ground.
“I’m ready!” he cried.
I cuddled him securely to my chest. With Ansel in only a bathrobe, tucked against my skin, I rose high above the cityscape. I shielded him from the cold as well as I could and flew toward the first secure place I could think of.
We landed on Davidson’s lawn maybe ten minutes later. The mansion was dark aside from a dim light coming from the first floor and a few lamps on the front facade.
I shifted back, and Ansel handed me my sweats so I could dress.
“Where are we?” he asked, looking at the imposing building.
“Davidson is a friend. We can stay here tonight before we figure out what to do.”
He stepped closer to me. “Is he a dragon too?”
“Um. Yes.”
“Okay.”
With that, my brave little mate began strolling casually toward the house.
He’s incredible.
Shaking my head in awe of my Ansel, I caught up with him and threw my arm around his shoulders. He was shivering, no doubt cold after the flight even though I’d done my best to keep him warm.
Before we could reach the wide double door, a blond, blue-eyed shifter approached us. He must have come running from the other side of the house.
“You’re lucky I recognized you from the party last week,” he said.
He wore blue checkered pajama pants and a white T-shirt and stood barefoot on the lawn.
“I’m sorry. We had an emergency, and I didn’t know where to go.”
The alpha offered me his hand. “Terrance Harbinger. I’m Mr. Leonard Sullivan’s security. And you’re Pascal Pembroke.”
“Yes. Nice to meet you officially. This is Ansel, my mate.”
Terrance shook Ansel’s hand. “Can you explain about the emergency?”
“My ex and a couple of other men barged into Pascal’s home and tried to kidnap me.” Ansel spoke evenly, calm as ever. It didn’t even surprise me anymore. “Pascal incapacitated them.” He threw me an accusing glance. “I’m still processing how you did that, by the way.”
Terrance looked at my mate with confused admiration. Good. I wasn’t the only one baffled by the cool way my Ansel handled the most alarming crises.
“When more men came, carrying guns,” Ansel continued, “Pascal climbed onto the roof and flew me here.”
“I’m sorry about that. I’m sure Mr. and Mr. Sullivan will happily extend their hospitality.
” Terrance gestured toward the house and began walking, so we followed.
“We have a security system that alerts me if someone or something breaches the perimeter of the house, even from the air. Next time, you’d better call to say you’re on your way. ”
“My apologies,” I said. “I lost my phone in the scuffle and had to shift in a hurry.”
Ansel scoffed. “I sincerely hope there won’t be a next time.”
The bodyguard chuckled. “Come inside. I think Mr. Davidson Sullivan is awake.”
My friend met us in the atrium of his impressive home.
He told Terrance to go to bed and led us to his living room, which doubled as a pool house.
He stopped by the bar and poured us each a glass of neat whiskey.
He seemed to think it was a remedy for all ailments and drank it like some people drank tea.
Ansel sipped from his glass, grimaced, then put it back on the table. He eyed Davidson warily.
“You can stay here as long as you need,” Davidson said after listening to our story. “Can I help in any way? We have connections in the Ardaine community to both the police and the FBI.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Ansel said. “I hope that it’s just a misunderstanding.
This man, Valentin Lyon, seems to think that the only reason I could have said no to him is that I’m mentally unstable.
He waltzed into Pascal’s home with the intention of delivering me back to my parents. Unless he lied, of course.”
Squinting, Davidson leaned forward. “An ex?”
“Something like that. We were never truly together, but his version of events differs from mine.”
Davidson smirked. “I know the type.”
“Can I use your phone to send a private message? Neither of us managed to bring ours.”
“Sure.” Davidson unlocked his device and handed it to Ansel.
“Thank you,” Ansel said with a polite nod and stood. “I’ll be right back.” He ambled to the other side of the room, tapping on the screen.
Davidson gazed at him with a soft smile on his usually surly face.
“How old is he?”
I sighed. I’d better get used to it. “Nineteen.”
My friend let out a quiet whistle. “Damn. He seems clever, though, and very calm, considering.”
“He’s brilliant.”
“When did you meet?”
“Last Sunday. The morning after your garden party.”
“Really?”
“I crashed into the forest during a storm in Cross River. I landed right behind Ansel’s cabin, where he was staying, hiding from his overbearing parents. He found me in dragon form and saw me shift.”
“You’re kidding.” My friend turned to me with wide eyes. “And he didn’t run for the hills?”
“No. He helped me down the slope to his cabin, made me tea, and questioned me about my flying habits and diet.”
Chuckling, Davidson shook his head. “Born to become a dragon mate. Congratulations, my friend. He seems lovely.”
“Thanks. Now I just have to figure out what to do with the suited-up thugs who might want to shoot me.”
Ansel walked back, and I reached out for him. He settled on my lap and laid his head on my shoulder.
“I messaged my parents. Thank you.” He handed the phone back to Davidson. “What should we do now? Can we finally call the police?”
Davidson seemed to weigh his words carefully. “The community tends to sort these things out ourselves if we can. It makes things easier to explain.”
“Like a college professor single-handedly incapacitating three alphas in three seconds and then disappearing via the rooftop,” Ansel said. “I can see how that might raise some suspicion.”
Davidson grinned at my mate. “You get the picture.”
Just then, Davidson’s phone vibrated in his hand.
“I imagine this is for you.” He gave the device to Ansel.
Ansel glanced at the number. “Damn. I thought they’d be asleep.”
He answered the call.
“Hello, Father.”
I locked my arms around him in case he needed the support.
“Wait. Let me speak, Father.”
Davidson raised his eyebrows at me, grinning. Yes, my mate was a damn firecracker. I was so proud of him.
“Let me speak!” Ansel said loudly. He pushed to stand up, so I released him from my embrace.
He was fine on his own. “Valentin broke into Pascal’s home with two other men and tried to kidnap me.
We ran away via a fire escape and a door on the rooftop.
We took a cab to a friend’s place.” He gestured helplessly at me, and I shrugged. It was as good an explanation as any.
Then his eyes widened. “You can’t be serious. That’s insane!”
The muffled voice in the speaker rose. Ansel listened, pacing in front of us.
“This could all have been avoided if you’d only talked to me about it.”
He rolled his eyes and paused, listening some more.
“I understand perfectly what you’re saying, but it’s no excuse. We thought they were there to kidnap me. Can you imagine how dangerous this could have gotten? How dangerous it already was! What if Pascal had a gun and shot one of them? You need to communicate these things, Father.”
After another shorter pause, he sighed, seeming resigned.
“Yes, we will. Thank you, Father.”
He politely said goodbye and ended the call before handing the phone back to Davidson. “The alphas with the guns that came later were my father’s.”
“What?” Davidson gasped, outraged. “Your father wants to kill your mate?”
“No! Nothing like that. They were surveilling the apartment for my safety. When they saw Valentin enter with his entourage, they followed. They restrained Valentin and called the police.”
“So they were on our side?” I asked.
“Sort of.”
“We should contact the police with our version.”
“Probably.”
“No chance of keeping it under wraps now,” Davidson said. “What Ansel told his father about the door on the roof sounded reasonable. I’d stick to that tale. There was a door, wasn’t there?”
“Yes. Although it could have been locked,” Ansel said. “But I guess we don’t have any other options.”
It took a while to get hold of the right people.
Clearly wanting to be done with the case as soon as possible, they accepted our statements on the phone and asked us to be available next week for more questioning.
Apparently, Perrault Sr. had already prepared the ground for us, his security readily cooperating, so we were off the hook for now.
I hadn’t hurt any of the men enough to justify legal action against me, plus it had been a clear case of breaking and entering since they’d cuffed our doorman to his chair.
Valentin would probably make bail, but Ansel would get a restraining order against him with the help of his father’s connections.
It was almost dawn when Davidson showed us to one of his guestrooms. I cradled my mate in my arms and listened to him falling asleep. It was a long time before I drifted off to join him in dreamland.