16—The Fuzz
Bonhi stood inside her own house, wet hair and clothes plastered to her skin, exhaustion pulling at her, staring at the man who had singlehandedly saved her life.
He was tall and built with a short haircut and gorgeous brown eyes, and his name was Dallas Manteo.
He spoke with a clipped efficiency that turned her on, even in this crazy, horrible situation.
He’d saved her life, she had no doubt about it.
She could never repay him for that. And if he’d been shot?
The situation from earlier that day kept returning to her mind—Jameson in the forest, appearing exactly where she’d seen the white wolf. Men who could turn into animals and heal themselves with the change was a myth, a legend, a story to make women swoon, nothing more, and there was no way—
Blue lights flashed through the foyer. The police had arrived.
Dallas looked out the window, then back at her, a promise in his eyes. Later.
Bonhi tried to pull herself together. She was a mess, her hair tangled, her clothes wet, a shiny space blanket still pulled around her, and she was thinking crazy things.
She opened the door and stepped out to meet the police. Dallas followed.
The police car was parked and both doors opened, two big cops got out, one Black, one Latino.
Bonhi knew a lot of cops, but not these two.
The passenger honed in on Bonhi and came straight toward her, one arm resting on the implements hanging from his gun belt.
He had short black hair, dark skin, and a rigid expression. His nametag said Officer Saluda.
He nodded at Dallas like he knew him, then said, “Evening, folks. What’s going on tonight?”
“I was ah-abducted from my office by this guy—"
The officer motioned toward Dallas, one eyebrow raised. “This guy?”
Bonhi shook her head. “No, he saved me.” She met his eyes and smiled and he smiled back, warmly.
She couldn’t breathe for a second. She looked back at the officer and the feeling eased so she could speak.
“The other guy is unconscious on the side of the road at—” she looked Dallas’ way, shaking her head.
She had no idea where they’d crashed, but she didn’t want to lock eyes with him again.
He was just so… handsome… and real… and unassuming. She liked him.
“Ah, just south of mile marker 164 on that road…” Dallas said, grasping for the name.
“Nevoc Highway,” Bonhi supplied.
Officer Saluda nodded at his partner and his partner went back to the car and spoke into the radio.
“He, uh, he’s not unconscious anymore.” He tried to catch Bonhi’s eye, saying, “He woke up right before we left. That’s why I got us out of there so quickly.”
“Oh,” Bonhi said, her chest tightening. She moved closer to Dallas.
He put an arm around her, and she was able to relax.
He would protect her, she felt it in the rigid set of his body pressed against hers, and in the way their heartbeats seemed to immediately synchronize. She’d never felt so safe in her life.
Officer Saluda nodded at the door. “Can we go inside?”
Bonhi nodded and the three of them went in, walking into the dining room. The other officer followed and closed the door behind them. His nametag said Brand and he had an evidence kit in his hands.
“I’ll need pictures,” he said, motioning that Dallas and Bonhi needed to separate. Bonhi moved out from under his arm, feeling the loss of his presence like a wound. She grimaced but did as the officer asked. He took pictures of her head to toe, then pictures of Dallas as well.
“Dallas, how about you step into the living room with me.” Officer Saluda said, confirming Bonhi’s thought that they knew each other.
Officer Brand got out a little kit and put it on her kitchen table.
Bonhi knew the kit—she was about to get her fingerprints taken.
They didn’t speak at all, and when it was finished, the officer swabbed the stains on her clothing with a giant cotton swab, but the rain had washed most of the blood away.
“I’ll need your clothing,” the officer said. “You can grab something to change into.”
Bonhi went up to her bedroom, her brain slow, her body heavy, feeling exhausted. She grabbed some clothes, forcing herself to stay awake and keep moving.
She went back downstairs, and the first thing she saw was Dallas, looking fresh and handsome in clean gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt that stretched handsomely over his chest. His foot and prosthesis were bare. He stood in her living room alone, while the two officers talked in the kitchen.
Bonhi smiled at him. He smiled back.
Her stomach swooped, telling her she was a goner, and she was too tired to fight the feeling. She let herself be swept toward him like he was her man, hoping he would open his arms to her.
He did.
Dallas smiled at Bonhi as she came down the stairs.
She looked so tired, and she still shone with beauty and blue light.
She approached him like they were intimate and he knew how she felt.
He felt the same after what they’d been through.
He drew her in and hugged her, saying nothing, listening to the murmur of the officers’ voices in the kitchen, and the sounds of the house all around them.
Dallas had found a change of clothing in the trunk of his car and put it on.
Officer Saluda—Dario, had taken Dallas’ clothes and the gun components.
Dario was one of the ‘Cause’ shifters Dallas had met before, and the only ‘Cause’ shifter on local law enforcement.
Dallas and Dario’d had a short, whispered conversation about whether Dallas’ blood would be found on the clothing.
Dallas had confirmed he’d been shot several times, but no one had seen him shift.
Dallas held Bonhi in his arms. She was soft and she smelled wonderful and she liked him, that was clear.
Dario came into the living room and nodded to them, motioning to the kitchen. “We’re ready.”
Bonhi went into a small bathroom and changed her clothes first. When she came out she was dressed in dark leggings and an oversized pink sweatshirt, and her hair was brushed neatly over one shoulder.
Dario pulled a chair out for her at the table and the interview began.
They told the story together, Bonhi first, then Dallas telling how he ‘just happened’ to come across them on the road and realize that Bonhi needed help, leaving out the call of Instinct.
To her credit, when Bonhi spoke about the gunshots, she didn’t ever make it seem like Dallas had been shot.
When it was all told, Officer Brand addressed Bonhi. “We’ll need a list of anyone who could possibly have it out for you.”
Bonhi shook her head. “No one.”
The officer smiled. “Not one person?”
Bonhi thought for a moment and then she spoke hesitantly. “There is this judge…”
Dario held up a hand, then motioned Dallas out of the room. “Let’s give them some privacy.”
Dallas nodded, even though he wanted to hear about this judge. He and Dario moved through the foyer, out the front door.
“Sorry, cat,” Dario said with a shrug, as soon as the door was closed.
Dallas shook his head. “No need. I get it.” He could still see Bonhi’s blue glow through the small windows in the door. He hooked a thumb at her. “You see her glow, right?”
Dario’s brows drew down. He looked in the window and back. “What, like the switches?”
Dallas nodded. “Yeah, exactly. You see it?”
Dario looked again. He shook his head. “She’s not glowing.”
Dallas’ heart clenched. “It’s soft. Blue.”
Dario walked right up next to the door and stared for a few moments, then he turned back. “You joking with me?”
“Shit,” Dallas said, his shoulders dropping. “I swear I see her glow.”
Dario shook his head. “Didn’t you see your sister glow before the rest of us did?”
Light dawned in Dallas’ mind, and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of that himself. He clapped Dario on the shoulder. “Yeah, I did.”
Dario nodded along. “They aren’t supposed to start glowing until they get ‘switched on.’”
“Switched on?”
“Yeah, when they encounter their first vampire, that’s when they first start to glow.”
Dallas pointed. “That’s what made the magic house birth itself out of the ground, too—when Dakota first got close to a vampire.”
Dario’s lip curled. “Bro…”
Dallas was already pacing down the front walk, where soft rain still fell. “So it has to do with vampires, and if she hasn’t seen a vampire ever, you won’t see her glow.” He turned around and pointed at Dario. “Not until she sees a vampire.”
Dario nodded. “Sure, seems plausible.” The radio on his belt called for a Unit 130 and Dario unclipped it. “This is me,” he said to Dallas, then into the radio, “130.”
“A male fitting the description of your suspect has been picked up and taken to the hospital. He doesn’t remember anything since being in a bar two hours ago. I’m sending you a picture.”
Dario pulled out his phone then turned it around to show Dallas.
Dallas nodded. “That’s him.”
Dario spoke into the radio. “We’ve got a positive I.D. Have him taken into custody.”
“10-4.”
Dallas was glad the guy was caught, but still, all he could think about was Bonhi, and whether or not he was going to tell her what he was, and what he thought she was… even though no one other than him had seen her glow.