He would never hurt me. Even in this form. He had proven as much. He fought that other beast off tooth and nail when it wanted to make a Supplicant energy drink out of me, and he would do it now.
Except, in this particular moment, I wasn’t the one who was in danger.
Would bullets hurt Abram in his beast form? Would anything? There was so much I still didn’t know, and there was no way of denying (to myself or anyone else) that I was in this. All the way. So I hung onto the things I did know. Abram was a good man. Beast or not, I was safe with him. Dalton was a good man, too. He would listen to reason. I just had to make sure he saw it.
“I promise you he’s not going to hurt me,” I repeated. Clutching the throw blanket tighter around my body, I ran my free hand along the length of Abram’s forearm.
It was strange, but not completely unpleasant. In fact, it was surprising how right it felt.
A low growl escaped Abram’s mouth. I thought about pulling my hand away, but there was no need. Abram would not hurt me. I knew that as well as I knew my own name.
“Get away from that thing, Char,” Dalton said, his hands and voice steady.
He was less of a boy now, less of the snot-nosed kid that used to tag along behind Lulu and me. There wasn’t even a shadow of the easygoing guy I had once flirted with. This was Dalton the detective—Dalton the grown man who was exceedingly good at his job.
Unfortunately, at this particular moment, his job very likely entailed firing live ammo at my boyfriend.
“Don’t shoot him, Dalton,” I said, standing my ground, shifting my body further in front of Abram’s body.
The growl Abram was producing grew louder, and Dalton began to inch toward me.
“If you’re not going to move, then I’m going to move you,” he said quietly.
“You’ll shoot him if I move,” I answered.
“You’re damn right I will,” he said through clenched teeth.
I resolved to stay exactly where I was. I would be a human bulletproof vest if necessary. Not because I thought I could stop bullets—nor did I even know if they would harm Abram in this state—but because I knew that Dalton would never take the shot if there was even a chance of hurting me and that, if he did start firing, Abram would never forgive himself for what the beast did in retaliation.
It didn’t matter, though. In an instant, Abram was on his feet, settling into a human-like stance—all fur, teeth, and trepidation. He slunk away from me, his hands warped into razor sharp claws.
Dalton’s pistol followed him, and I realized what he was doing. Abram was moving away in order to keep me safe. All these stupid men were going to get themselves killed to keep me safe. And the funny thing was, in the end, it probably wouldn’t be close to enough. Not with that other beast out there.
“Dalton, don’t you dare!” I yelled. But Abram’s growl got louder, and before I could stop it, shots thundered through the room.
“No!” I screamed, but it was too late. That idiot to Dalton’s left had begun firing. And once he started, he didn’t stop.
Bullets went flying toward Abram. He darted around and with all the agility one would expect from an animal. But that moron’s gun kept firing. Abram skidded along the walls, and I watched as fresh bullet holes appeared closer and closer to his body.
Abram sprung toward the idiot just as I heard the click that signified he was out of ammo, and I braced myself to watch Abram tear him in half.
But another gun fired. Dalton’s gun.
And he didn’t miss.
Abram reared back, howling loudly. It was so strong, so sharp, that I thought my ears might bleed.
“Dalton!” I screamed.
Abram swung at him, knocking the gun out of his hand before he could fire again. But instead of attacking Dalton, Abram grabbed his gut, charged out of the way, and jumped through the nearby window, shattering the glass.
I ran for the window, still clutching the throw blanket around my body. But by the time I got there, Abram was gone. He had vanished into the woods, save a trail of blood that marked his path.
I spun to find Dalton staring at me, holding his arm and narrowing his eyes.
“Search the house,” he said breathlessly to one of his officers. Turning to the other, he motioned to me. “Get her dressed, and put her in the car.”
***
Dalton had me in the squad car. After getting me out of the house, he had given me a quick look over with his first aid kit, but he hadn’t said so much as a word to me. Now we were on our way back to New Haven, and the silence was killing me.
“Why am I in the backseat?” I asked.
I expected the silent treatment, but apparently all it took was one of us to break the ice.
“Because I’m not sure it’s safe for you to be up here,” he answered, eyes on the road.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked, hands against the cage that separated us.
“You’re acting irrationally. I think you may have been drugged.”