Page 3 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
“Your mate Marcus screwed us over?” I hissed, adrenaline spiking.
“No! There must be a secondary system or something—”
“Don’t move!”
The guard’s shout hit something primal—protect, protect, protect—and before I could stop myself, I lunged.
Everything happened too fast. One guard tried to grab me, but the moon sang through my blood, turning my muscles to steel. When he seized my arm, I barely felt it—his grip might as well have been tissue paper against the raw strength thundering through my veins. Dev twisted free of the other guard’s hold like he was shrugging off a child’s grasp. We were too strong, too wild, our beasts too close to the surface.
When the larger man threw an arm around me, instinct took over, and I shoved him with two hands. His head slammed against the wall with acrackbefore he slumped to the floor.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
The second guard stumbled backward, fumbling for something on his belt.
“Run!” Dev grabbed my hand.
More footsteps thundered from multiple directions. Police sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer.
We sprinted down the corridor, footsteps echoing off walls. Three more security guards burst around the corner ahead, their uniforms matching the ones we’d left behind. My lungs burned as we skidded to a halt—dead end. A blank wall mocked us, with only a set of double doors toour left.
I slammed my shoulder into them. Pain shot through my arm as the doors refused to budge. The metal reinforcement gleamed under the emergency lights, taunting me.
“Freeze! Hands where we can see them!” One guard raised his radio. “Police are en route.”
More heartbeats entered the building downstairs. Among them, a familiar scent hit my nose—crisp cotton, black pepper, lemongrass. This close to the full moon, I could also detect the subtle underlying current of static electricity, marking him as Gifted.
Theodore Maxwell.
Relief flooded through me. Thank fuck. Killigrew Street’s police connection would get us out of this mess. For once, I was glad he was telepathic.
Heavy footsteps approached. Maxwell appeared behind the guards, suit slightly rumpled. The bright lights highlighted dark circles under his eyes, even through his glasses.
Theo! Help us!I screamed the thought as loud as I could, imagining neon letters flashing in my brain.We’re here on a case. Dev found evidence of missing shifters.
Maxwell’s dark eyes widened when they landed on me, genuine shock flashing across his face before he schooled his expression. His left hand twitched toward his temple—he was listening.
There’s a list. Names. Codes. Something bad’s happening here. But you can’t take us to the station. It’s a full moon. You have to—
“Sir?” One of the uniformed officers turned to Maxwell. “These aren’t our suspects.”
“No,” Maxwell said, jaw tight, eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t believe this is connected to our operation, after all.”
“But they’ve still broken in and assaulted security personnel,” a different voice interjected.
“Yes,” Maxwell said. “They have.”
For one breathless moment, Maxwell’s expression shifted—something unreadable flashing across his features. He glanced at the windowwhere moonlight spilled through, then back to my face. I could almost see the calculation happening behind those dark eyes: duty versus consequence, law versus supernatural reality. His fingers flexed at his sides. Then his shoulders squared, decision made.
My stomach dropped through the floor as he pulled out his handcuffs. “DI Maxwell, Metropolitan Police. You’re both under arrest for breaking and entering, assault on security personnel, and”—his gaze flicked to the unconscious guard—“grievous bodily harm.”
No.No, no, no.This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
Dev’s fingers squeezed mine, his palm sweaty against my skin. The moon pulsed again, making each of my bones tremble.
“Theodore!” The name burst from my lips before I could stop myself. Shit. Probably shouldn’t have revealed we knew each other. That was not going to help.
“DI Maxwell, you know this suspect?” asked another officer.
