Chapter 253

Noah and I returned home late Monday night, almost early Tuesday morning. It had been a long drive home, and we were both exhausted—physically and emotionally.

We trudged to our apartment, not saying a word to each other. All that either of us wanted was to slide into bed and get a few hours’ sleep before we had to face the world again. I could barely carry my high heels in my hands, let alone carry on a conversation.

Then Noah opened the door to the apartment. A smell wafted out and hit me square in the face, a smell that did not belong to Noah or me. I snapped to attention and instinctively growled.

Noah must have caught on to what I had smelled. He threw his arm out, keeping me behind him as we cautiously walked forward. He sniffed the air, as though he could identify the scent if he just smelled it long enough.

I kept the door open behind me after we entered. I wanted to ensure that we had a way out in case of an emergency.

After a couple minutes of nothing happening, Noah relaxed his shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It might have just been maintenance doing—”

Noah’s sentence turned into a scream as a figure jumped out at him in the dark and plunged a silver knife into his left side.

“Noah!” I shouted.

The figure pivoted towards me. He pulled his knife out of Noah and stalked in my direction. The blade glinted in the light of the moon trickling through the window, and my heart all but came to a stop.

“Kill him,” Susan urged me. “Kill him before he kills us!”

I knew I should shift, that I should protect myself, but images of Chevalier’s lifeless body flashed through my mind. I was not sure that I could make myself do that again, even if my life—and Noah’s—depended on it.

Before I could even think to move, at least half a dozen more figures charged in through the open door and stormed past me. One stood directly in front of me, obstructing my view as the others tackled the attacker. I could see two of the figures restraining the attacker while a third tended to Noah’s injury.

“Hello, I’d like to report an attack at Crescent Moon Apartment Complex,” I heard one of them say into a cell phone. “A male has been stabbed by a silver knife. The attacker, also a male, is currently incapacitated.”

A moment passed before the figure spoke again.

“Yes, we need an ambulance. Yes, I will stay on the line.”

The figure in front of me turned to look at me.

“Are you harmed, Ms. Blanchard?”

“No, but who are…”

Realization dawned on me as I recognized the voice speaking to me.

“George Black?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Surprise and relief swept over me.

“What are you doing here?”

“Alpha King Andrew Dubois sent the Special Guard here to protect you…and Mr. Bernard, ma’am.”

Tears welled at the edges of my eyes as I became overwhelmed with emotion. Andrew had sent someone to protect me, even after we had broken up—even after how I had broken up with him. He still cared.

The police and ambulance arrived about 10 minutes later. By that point, George Black and the Special Guard had turned on the lights, tied the attacker to a chair, and stabilized Noah. Fortunately, Noah’s injury missed all his vital organs, but he would still need some stitches and antidote for the silver.

As the ambulance took Noah away, I was forced to stay behind and answer the officer’s questions.

“Just tell me everything from the beginning,” the policewoman—Officer Monet—said, pressing her pen against her pad of paper.

“We had just come home from a funeral,” I began as Officer Monet scribbled on her notepad. “Nothing seemed off until we opened the door. Then we both smelled something that didn’t smell like us.”

Officer Monet nodded.

“Then what did you do?” she asked.

“We walked in—”

“Without the light on?”

“Yes, without the light on,” I mumbled, feeling a bit sheepish about that. “We weren’t sure what we were going to find, so I guess that we were just trying to not draw attention to ourselves.”

“Mm-hmm. Continue.”

“Anyway, Noah looked around a little but didn’t move beyond the living room. He had just decided that we were probably smelling maintenance people—”

“Were maintenance people scheduled to arrive while you were gone?”

“Well, no.”

“Mm-hmm. Continue.”

“Like I was saying, Noah had just decided that we were probably smelling maintenance people when this man came out of nowhere and stabbed him with a silver knife. The man was going to attack me, but that’s when George Black and the others came in and saved me.”

Officer Monet paused and glanced over where George Black stood, supervising the arrest and removal of our attacker.

“Yes. And who are…George Black and these others?”

I remembered what Andrew had said about the Special Guard being top secret. Wanting to honor his wishes, I decided to stretch the truth a little.

“They’re friends of a friend,” I said. “They had a hunch that something was going to happen to me, so they came to check on me—just in the nick of time.”

Officer Monet lifted a brow at me, scribbled some notes, and nodded.

“Okay. Well, it seems to me as though this is a case of a robbery gone wrong,” she concluded.

My eyes widened in disbelief.

“Excuse me? Why do you believe that?”

“Your attacker is a well-known transient, William Burr. He fell on hard times a couple years ago and has been known to break in to houses and apartment buildings to make ends meet. It seems to me that you and your fiancé were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Someone in my new pack had tried to kill Noah and me, and the police were going to brush it off as a robbery gone wrong? I buried my face in my hands.

“Pardon me, Officer Monet,” George Black’s voice broke through my moment of self-pity. “Perhaps I could have a few minutes to question the suspect, to confirm that theory.”

Officer Monet huffed.

“And who are you to make such a request?”

George Black reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which he handed over to Officer Monet.

“I believe that this letter will explain everything.”

Officer Monet snatched the letter from George Black’s hand and scanned the letter. The bitter look on her face quickly turned solemn. She soon folded the paper back up and returned it to George Black.

“Very well. Make it quick.”

It was the longest fifteen minutes of my life. Officer Monet did not help with her constantly checking her watch and clicking her tongue as we waited for George Black to return from the cop car. The minute we saw him coming back, she snapped back to attention and resumed her haughty, detached attitude.

“Well?” she asked.

“He confessed,” George Black said simply.

Officer Monet rolled her eyes.

“To what?”

“To being paid by one Bob Barbier to kill Crystal Blanchard and Noah Bernard.”

I feel the blood rush from my face. I had a feeling that Bob had something to do with this, but this was the first time that someone had actually admitted to it.

“Bob Barbier, on the Werewolf Council under Alpha King Andrew Dubois?” Officer Monet asked, as though she could not believe what she was hearing.

George Black nodded.

“You heard correctly, ma’am.”

Officer Monet made a note in her pad before closing it with a resounding snap. She looked over at me with a mixture of disbelief and pity.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Blanchard,” she said. “We take care of our own here. We’ll make sure that no one can get to you.”

I nodded numbly.

“Thank you, Officer Monet,” I replied, though I had a hard time believing her promise. The Alpha King couldn’t protect me, how could such a small pack?

“Do you want me to call Alpha King Andrew Dubois?” George Black asked.

“I-I don’t know.”