Page 32 of Samuel
We’ll return the child to her family first, then come up with a plan to deal with the rogues, I thought.
Carin shifted uncomfortably in the backseat, refusing to answer any of my questions.
She kept her gaze on Blake, her small fingers clutching the seatbelt with a white-knuckled grip.
I’d seen fear in the eyes of people before, but this was different.
A child’s fear was pure, raw, and intense, and it twisted something deep in my chest.
I clenched the steering wheel a little tighter, aware I’d never been good with kids, human or shifter.
Somehow, they always sensed I was not quite human.
Blake leaned over his shoulder and gave her a gentle smile.
“Hey, Carin, can you tell me where you live?” Blake asked.
She glanced at me, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer.
But then she turned to Blake, her voice a whisper. “On Cedar Street… number twelve.”
“Cedar Street, number twelve. Got it,” I repeated, nodding as if to reassure her.
I guided the truck along the empty roads, the silence only broken by the hum of the engine.
As we turned onto Cedar Street, a police car came into view, lights flashing, parked in front of a small house.
Outside, a woman was speaking with an officer, her face drawn with worry, hands wringing.
Even from a distance, I could see the resemblance between her and Carin.
The girl’s face lit up as she spotted her mother.
“Mom!” she cried, her voice cracking as she struggled to unbuckle herself.
Blake quickly helped her out, and the moment I parked, Carin bolted from the truck, running to her mother.
The woman knelt down, pulling her daughter into a fierce hug, relief and disbelief flooding her face.
Blake and I got out of the truck, and I immediately noticed the officer’s gaze snap to us, particularly to Blake.
His narrowed eyes showed wariness, suspicion. It was a look I was all too familiar with.
My instinct kicked in, possessive and protective, and before I could think twice, I stepped close to Blake, sliding an arm around his shoulders and pulling him to my side.
Blake shot me a glance, a faint hint of a smirk softening his expression.
“Let me do the talking,” he murmured, low enough for only me to hear.
I nodded, easing my grip on him but not stepping back.
I had no love for law enforcement, and something about this officer rubbed me the wrong way.
But I held my tongue and let Blake take the lead.
The officer, whose nametag readDavidson, lifted a brow, his expression shifting as Blake started explaining.
“We found Carin in the forest,” Blake said, his tone calm, measured. “Along with her…father.”
