Chapter 9

NINE

COLLINS

“WE GET A PHONE CALL,” I screamed with my face smushed between the bars. I shook the bars just to make myself feel better. It didn’t work. “I’VE SEEN LAW AND ORDER!”

“AND NCIS, CSI— all the locations !” Tallulah shouted from beside me. “Mariska Hargitay taught us!”

“HELLO?” I groaned, resting my forehead against the cold bar. “They’re not supposed to ignore us this much.”

“Well . . .” she stretched and backed away from the bars, “at least our pics are hot.”

I spun around and narrowed my eyes. “You mean our mugshots ?”

“Potayto, potahto?” She shrugged and dropped down onto the bench. “We look good.”

“I’m sure that’ll help us in court. Or with your brother.”

She groaned and tugged on her wild red curls. “My brother. We’ll never hear the end of this.”

“Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll call my mom first and see what she says.” I dropped down on the bench beside her and pulled my knees up to my chest, then wrapped my arms around myself. “Then maybe we use your call on that lawyer hookup of yours.”

“Sounds fun.” She leaned her head against my shoulder. “You’d think they would’ve arrested that pink-haired lady who attacked you.”

“Or maybe they’re trying to pin all of that on us too.”

“Don’t say that—how could they? That bitch had you in a chokehold. It was self-defense.”

I smirked. A chokehold, did she really? I didn’t think so but it may have looked that way to Tallulah. “I’m not the one who tackled her, so not sure self-defense ?—”

“Whatever. There’s a word for defending your loved ones from harm.”

Heavy footsteps thundered down the hall toward us. My stomach tightened into knots. The cops hadn’t said anything to us yet, other than to wait, so I knew the questions were coming. It terrified me because I didn’t have explanations for what I saw, nor did I think they’d believe that we’d been tricked and set up by Lilian.

“I’m throwing Lilian under the bus as soon as we possibly can.”

“Please don’t say that in front of cops or they’ll use that as a death threat in court.” I grinned. But those footsteps grew louder and louder and my smile vanished. “Remember, don’t say anything other than that you want your phone call and you want a lawyer.”

“Not another word.”

A large figure rounded the corner and stepped out of the shadows.

My breath left me like a deflated balloon.

It was him.

Mr. Moonstone.

Again.

He strolled toward us with casual, long strides. Those pale bluish-white eyes found mine and held. Goosebumps spread over my body. The sheen in his eyes was so bright that they were practically glowing. He looked exactly the same, especially in that same button-down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He’d swapped out the metallic-silver shoes for dark-gray leather boots. Instead of tailored navy-blue dress pants, he wore slim-fitting gray pants made of some kind of leather that looked soft to the touch.

I gripped Tallulah’s hand and squeezed. “Tell me you see him now.”

“I see him,” she whispered back without hesitation and without letting go of me.

“Oh . . . okay . . . that’s good,” I said in a squeaky high voice.

“Was his hair blue before?”

I nodded. That wasn’t something a girl forgot. He looked like a high fashion model strutting down a runway. If the Greek God Zeus existed, I imagined he looked exactly like this, with the pale bluish-white eyes and murderous rage-filled gaze.

Time seemed to slow around us. All I heard was the beating of my heart synchronizing with his heavy steps as they echoed down the hall.

Then he stopped right outside our holding cell.

I held my breath, waiting for the sound of his voice, but none came. He arched one pale eyebrow at us, then glared down at the lock. He raised his hand and a swirl of pale-blue mist shot out from his palm and coiled around the lock. There was a flash and a pop—and then the gate flew open.

WHAT.

My pulse skyrocketed. Tallulah’s grip on my hand tightened so hard her knuckles were white. I squeezed back. We’d both have bruises later, but I didn’t care. In that moment, I knew with every fiber of my being that I hadn’t once hallucinated him. He’d been there. I didn’t know how, but I knew.

He lifted that same arm, the one with the fancy black scroll tattoo, and made a curling motion. He nodded his head toward the exit, then flicked his wrist.

Tallulah cursed. “He wants us to go with him.”

It wasn’t a question. We didn’t really have a choice.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and got to my feet. Those pale eyes looked me up and down, yet they barely glanced to Tallulah. I couldn’t decide if that thrilled or terrified me. Whatever he wanted, he wanted it from me.

“Collins . . .”

“He was in our apartment, Tallulah,” I whispered back. “What’s the point?”

She pursed her lips and glanced back and forth between me and him before finally jumping up. Then she leaned in close and whispered, “But we stay together. Let’s just get our phones from that lady cop at the desk and call our parents.”

“We’ll just follow him out front and see what he says, but we won’t leave with him. ‘Kay?”

“’Kay.” She pushed her shoulders back and gripped my hand. “Chin up, tits out.”

I looked up and found him watching us with cold eyes. My body needed to not react to him this way, not without answers and explanations . . . because my mind was on the edge of a cliff.

Without a word, he spun and marched back out the way he came. He didn’t even look behind him to see if we were following. My mind kept whispering that this guy was not normal, he was not . . . human. It was entirely irrational but there was no other explanation. He was something else.

We hurried after him without letting go of each other. It was a bit unnerving that none of the dozens of uniformed police officers in the station had come to check on us and then Mr. Moonstone just waltzed back and let us out. As we rounded the corner, I expected to see a sea of cops jump up and stop us, yet no one seemed to notice. No one even looked up from their desks. Most of them typed frantically on their keyboards. Others shuffled through mountains of paperwork. The station was hustling and bustling, a nonstop buzz of traffic, like ants after you step on their hill. Phones rang left and right. The desks were lined up back-to-back, practically on top of each other. No one used an inside voice. Everyone shouted over each other.

No one even noticed us standing there. It was like we didn’t exist.

Tallulah scowled and dragged me over to the desk where the lady cop had our stuff. The woman was nowhere in sight. I glanced back and forth, then reached over the counter and grabbed both of our purses. Still . . . nothing.

“Am I delusional or?—"

“What’s happening?” Tallulah growled and stomped over to the closest desk where a middle aged male cop with long hair sat glaring at his computer screen. “Excuse me?”

Nothing.

He cursed and practically punched each key. Tallulah leaned down and waved her hands in front of his face, but it was like she didn’t exist. My whole body went cold. My fingers started to shake. We looked to each other, then hurried to the next desk. I pushed a stack of files onto the floor. No one paid us any attention. I whistled. Nothing.

“This isn’t right.”

I shivered. “Nothing has been right for?—”

Everything went black. One second I was standing in a chaotic police station, the next it was me in a black abyss. I screamed and spun in quick circles that made my long hair coil and tangle around my body. My toe snagged on something, and I crashed into a solid form.

Bright-red curls appeared out of nowhere. I gasped and dove for them, knowing my best friend was buried under there somewhere. Warm fingers gripped my arms, but they were too long and rough to be Tallulah’s. Light flashed and then I saw her right in front of me.

“SHIT!” Tallulah’s green eyes were wider than I’d ever seen. “Can you see me? Collins?”

“I see you.” I looked around, but all I found was darkness. “I see you but?—”

“ Who the hell are you?” Tallulah snarled over my shoulder.

I turned and found Mr. Moonstone marching back towards us, like maybe he’d gotten all the way to the door before realizing we’d stopped. My pulse skipped. Little bolts of nerves raced up and down my body.

“Who are you?” I yelled, even though Tallulah had just said the same thing. I was at my boiling point. This silent treatment was too much. It had to stop. “Say something.”

He opened his mouth—and grabbed us by the arms. Without a word, he dragged us across the police station, our feet sliding like we were ice skating. We tugged and pulled against his hold, yet it made no difference. He walked like we weighed nothing at all.

We pushed through the glass door and stepped out into a cold air. The sky was a velvety black without a cloud in sight. Rows of palm trees swayed in the breeze. And then he froze. We crashed into his back with a curse. He dropped us like we burned him and jumped forward. I peeked around his shoulders and my heart sank.

Standing there between the two rows of palm trees was that pink-haired bombshell.