Page 95 of Tested
Chapter Twenty-Seven
We are so fucked. I run from window to window, and the house is surrounded by black-suited robocops. I swear, norms get so spun up about supes. Their presence is really overkill.
Connor, Lydia, and Sheena have converged around the dining room table. Lydia’s girls are spread out through the house, keeping watch through the windows, and since I have trouble keeping still on a good day, my job is to make a circuit, asking for updates.
Stone messaged me and he can’t get through the police blockade. Says he’ll hang around, though, in case the line breaks and we need back-up.
Every so often the cop on the loudspeaker commands Connor to come out. So far we’ve ignored him. Smith is behind all this, though. They’ve set up a command post at the end of the driveway. He’s there, along with the detective who came the night Janet Edmond’s body was found and a couple more, older guys in SWAT-lite attire.
The rest are faceless behind black masks, genderless under thick layers of body armor. I’d never really considered becoming a cop before, but now I’m sure I’d suck at it. These assholes are following orders, and they’ll all go home and sleep fine tonight, whether or not any of us survive.
Not that I think they’re going to firebomb the place or anything. I settle into my chair at the dining table. “Nothing new,” I say. Connor looks up from his phone.
“Brodie’s working on the police report.”
That seems to be our best hope, the false report Smith filed and Joey’s story. That’s if Smith hasn’t destroyed the original report or otherwise disrupted things somehow.
Joey’s sitting in a chair in the corner, periodically rattling the chain between the cuffs on his wrists. One of Lydia’s girls is with him, murmuring consolation like Joey’s a kid at church. His behavior fills me with a sense of responsibility.
Because if Connor’s arrested, there’s no way Smith won’t come after Joey as soon as they zip up Connor’s orange jumpsuit.
Meanwhile, Trajan’s going to rise at any moment. I need to get to him before he trips over one of our houseguests. I spring up, mumble something about making another lap, and leave them to their plotting and scheming.
I make another lap of the upstairs rooms. No changes. Standoffs are boring. Parking myself by the door to Trajan’s room, I decide to wait till he comes out.
The first crashing notes of some orchestral nonsense makes me jump about six inches in the air. A couple of the were-bikers shriek, too, so I don’t feel too bad about my reaction. Without waiting to see if this is a Wagner day or not, I pound on the door.
“What?” Trajan swings the door open so fast it almost hits him in the face.
“There’s a situation,” I say. He’s wearing low-slung jeans and his hair is sticking down in front of his face like Norman Reedus’s and lord have mercy this man does something for me.
Connor does something for me, too, so I squash my amorous thoughts and deal with the matter at hand. “You want the good news first, or the bad news?”
He growls in response. Must be a Wagner day.
“Okay, you got up on the wrong side of the bed. Noted.”
He bares his teeth at me, the incisors already lengthening.
I’ve about run out of patience with all of them. “Look, chillax. I said we’ve got a situation going on and your petulant vampire act is not appreciated.”
He plants his fists on his hips and scowls. “What?”
“Let’s start by turning the music down.”
“No.”
OMG he’s going to make me hurt him. “Turn down the goddamn music before I shift and my wolf bites your ’nads off.”
He gives me another long look, then steps away from the door. The volume drops enough that I don’t need to scream to be heard.
“Thank you,” I say. He saunters to the doorway, chin cocked with all kinds of attitude.
Oh sugar bear. I can match your attitude and raise you a hundred. “Okay, listen. The house is surrounded by the LAPD SWAT team and we’re hoping Brodie will come up with the right police report so the cops will know Smith is the killer.”
Trajan blinks. Once. Slowly. “I feel as if I’ve entered the Twilight Zone.”
“Welcome to another dimension. What’s important is that Connor’s in trouble and he needs our help.”
