35. Harper
THIRTY-FIVE
HARPER
Tank shouted something into his earpiece and the four of us rushed down the dark stairwell. As he reached the last step, he began to wobble back and forth. Dad took his hand from Wyatt’s shoulder to steady Tank, and I linked my arm through Wyatt’s. His body fell flush against my silk dress and the fabric clung to us both.
Finally, we reached the steel door marked ‘Emergency’. I pushed into the bar, praying that an alarm wouldn’t go off, and we tumbled into an empty back alley.
Wyatt and Tank gulped in the autumn air, their color slowly returning with each greedy breath.
I tried rubbing Wyatt’s back, but he jerked away. “I’m fine,” he growled, before turning his anger onto Tank. “What the hell, man? How the fuck did security miss this?”
Tank shrugged his shoulders and muttered into his earpiece, before disappearing around the corner.
Goosebumps prickled my bare arms. A large suit jacket was draped over my shoulders, the cheap material itchy against my bare skin. “Thanks, Dad,” I whispered. He nodded, his eyes wide with concern. Whatever had happened to Wyatt and Tank just now didn’t seem to impact him.
Wyatt paced back and forth on the concrete sidewalk, his brow furrowed. His head shot up as Tank reappeared around the corner. “Get me some answers.”
Tank seemed flustered, his usual cockiness gone. “We think there’s something in the perfume that only affects our kind. V’s crew was hit the hardest, but she was able to sneak out of the gala without anyone noticing. Ryder said she passed out in the limo, but she’s coherent now and en route back to the mansion as we speak.”
Wyatt nodded, his face emotionless. “The last thing we need is for the media to catch on.”
“Understood.”
“What’s our plan for getting ba—”
A white Mercedes SUV screeched around the corner, stopping mere feet from us. The driver’s window rolled down. “Hop in,” Savannah shouted.
Connor was buckled into the passenger seat, so I squeezed into the back, wedged in between the two most important men in my life. Wyatt’s hand grazed lightly over my stomach as he reached across my lap to buckle me in. I held my breath as it clicked into place, his hand lingering a moment longer than necessary.
Savannah peered over her shoulder. Her eyes sparkled as we made eye contact. “Nice dress, Davis.”
Wyatt mumbled, his voice even more irritated than usual. “Leave the catching up for later, or get your boyfriend to drive.”
Savannah faced forward, and we exchanged looks in the rearview mirror. I held in a laugh as she stuck out her tongue. Wyatt was right, there was a lot at stake tonight and the mood was tense for good reason. But I also knew how important tonight was for Savannah’s career. And yet here she was, helping us as always.
Tank shuffled, alone on the pavement. He sighed and looked at the trunk of the SUV. “Guess it’s doggy style tonight.”
Savannah grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Oh, no. Your ride will be here any second.”
Just then, a large black Harley veered around the corner, scattering dust everywhere. Tank coughed, using the sleeve of his tuxedo to block the fumes. “What the…”
Bannon grinned from behind the handlebars. “Hop on, Tree Knocker,” he yelled, patting the seat.
Tank narrowed his eyes at the motorcycle and looked to Wyatt for help. “For fuck’s sake, Boss.”
Wyatt sighed, “We’ll see you back at the estate,” and slapped the back of Savannah’s headrest. “Hit it.”
Savannah gunned the engine and the SUV swerved out of the alley, accelerating onto the main road. I glanced outside the window at the art gallery as we drove by the building. The steps were bare, except for a few masked men and women in line. Everything seemed normal. What the hell was happening to Wyatt and his crew?
The temperature of the car increased with each passing streetlight. Savannah’s normally spacious SUV felt more like a clown car with the three giant men smooshed inside. Wyatt and Connor whispered together for most of the drive, while Savannah focused on the roads. I sneaked a look at my dad, wondering how he felt being in the same car as Wyatt and Connor, but he stared into the distance as if deep in thought. It was the same look he’d had whenever he was doing one of his science experiments, or helping me with my homework.
The streets began to look familiar, and I realized we weren’t headed in the direction of the mansion. I tried to catch Savannah’s eye in the mirror, but hers were focused out the windshield.
As we pulled into the familiar parking lot, Wyatt stiffened. “Does your girlfriend need directions?” he huffed.
Connor hissed at Savannah. “We talked about this.”
Savannah put the SUV into park and crossed her arms, pouting. “And as I told you , who knows how long we’ll be trapped in the sasquatch den? I’m not going anywhere without my shampoo and conditioner.”
Wyatt muttered under his breath so that only I could hear. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Sorry, guys,” Connor said, turning back to us. “I tried to reason with her, but…” Connor shrugged.
Savannah waved her hand. “Oh, calm down. I’ll just be a minute. Do you need anything, Harper?” she said, opening the car door.
Almost everything I owned was still at Wyatt’s, the breakup and subsequent heartbreak still fresh. “No, that’s okay. I’ll stay here with my dad.” I was afraid he could run at any second. Though right now, he was staring vacantly at the back of his hands. It was unnerving.
“I’m not leaving you alone in a car with…” Wyatt didn’t need to finish his sentence.
“I’ll go upstairs with Savannah,” Connor promised, following Savannah out of the car.
The three of us remained in the backseat, the silence awkward and heavy. I stared down at my hands, unsure where else to look. “What happened at the gala?” I asked after a moment.
Wyatt sighed and said, “We think there’s something in the perfume that they handed out in the gift bags. It only seems to affect our kind. Not the wolves.”
“But my dad’s okay. How is that possible?”
“The midnight ivy.” Wyatt and I turned to look at my dad, who had spoken for the first time since leaving the gala. He sighed wearily. “I thought it smelled familiar. I suspect I would have fared the same as your friends, Harper, if I hadn’t exposed myself to it years ago in my research. I must have built an immunity to it somehow. It’s the only possible explanation.” He shook his head.
Wyatt frowned. “Why would the Carders concoct a perfume using midnight ivy?” His eyes suddenly widened.
Dad took a deep breath but faltered, nodding grimly instead.
The air in the car was thick with unease. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” I mumbled nervously.
“It’s just a theory, but…” Dad’s head drooped and he began to wring his hands together anxiously.
I reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s okay. Go on.”
“The Carders gifted their perfume to the who’s who of Seattle tonight. If it affects sasquatches, including hybrids, then by that same reasoning…” I waited for him to finish, and when he didn’t, turned to Wyatt, my eyes full of question.
“Then by that same reasoning, anyone who wears the perfume will be safe from the demonstration,” Wyatt finished, his face white as a sheet. “Immunity from our kind.”
Dad nodded grimly. “Precisely.”
Wyatt shook his head. “This just keeps getting worse,” he muttered.
A nearby door banged shut, startling me. The back entrance had never opened, yet Savannah and Connor were running across the parking lot toward us, empty-handed.
The hairs on my neck prickled. Something was wrong. I turned to Wyatt but he was already gone, having clamored into the driver seat quicker than a bolt of lightning. “What…” Before I could formulate any words, he slammed the SUV into reverse. It lurched back in a sudden jolt, stopping inches from Savannah and Connor. They jumped into the car, and Wyatt sped out of the parking lot, tires squealing.
“We didn’t see them at first,” Connor explained out of breath from the passenger seat. “They’d been knocked out unconscious and left at the bottom of the stairwell. I thought the lights had been turned out for the trick-or-treaters.” He shook his head and muttered under his breath. “I shouldn’t have let my guard down. Stupid of me.”
“The guards,” Savannah explained, breathlessly, from beside me.
“As we climbed the stairwell,” Connor continued, “I smelled something rank. I could see into the apartment. The door was wide open.”
“It’s been ripped apart,” Savannah sniffed. “It looks like everything’s been…” her voice lowered and I thought she might cry, “torn apart.”
“But why?” I gasped. The building was in a nicer part of town, and we had never had a break-in. It was a safe, family-friendly neighborhood, one that had been way out of my price range as a journalist.
Savannah shook her head. “I don’t know. But Connor made us keep going without stopping, past our floor. Then we hurried down the back stairwell. That’s where we found the guards,” she shuddered.
I put my hand on her knee, giving it a light squeeze. “Thank you,” she mouthed silently.
“It’s the Carders. They’re looking for me,” whispered the voice beside me. “They’ll do whatever it takes to get me back. Even…” he gulped, and I felt the apology searing through him, “hurt the ones I love.”
All eyes turned to my dad, and the SUV shook as it swerved across the median.
“Wyatt,” I screamed.
“Sorry,” he muttered, turning the steering wheel sharply to the right. He glanced back at me in the rearview mirror. “Do you understand now why I kept you inside the mansion? You’re not safe, Harper. Not unless you’re with me.”
My heart sunk. Wyatt was right.
The only thing more terrifying than what was happening with the Carders and their freaky sasquatch army, was the realization I was going to be stuck living with my ex-boyfriend.