Runner's Moon: Yarrolam (7 page)

            “Forgive me for saying this, but Aaron’s a big boy. He knows better than to get involved in anything shady. Whatever he’s done, he needs to deal with it himself. If he’s in trouble, he needs to go to the police and let them know. But he had no business getting either of us involved in this. Especially you. If he did invite you down, knowing he was going to flee the coop before you arrived, it makes me even angrier.”

            A police cruiser drove by. The French Quarter was twenty minutes away. Detective Washoo’s suggestion came back to him.

           
“Blend in with the tourists. Make it hard for those men to reach you.”

            It was sound advice, except for one very important fact. At some point, once the sun went down, Yarrolam would have to shift into his alien persona, but where would he be able to go to give himself enough relief, and enable himself to shift back and remain in human form? Worse, would he dare leave Cherron alone for that length of time?

            She walked past him, washing him in a wave of lilac-scented air as she headed for the car. Yarrolam followed, keying the fob to unlock the doors. He rounded the trunk to hold open the door for her, when he jolted to a halt. And sniffed.

            “What?” she asked, her hand on the handle.

            His Ruinos senses went on high alert. Yarrolam held up a hand. “Don’t move,” he tightly ordered.

            She tensed and glanced around the parking lot. “What’s wrong?”

            His body was screaming at him to run. Warning him. Telling him they were in imminent danger.

Bending over the trunk, he sniffed again.

            The bite of metal. Gasoline vapor. Hot rubber. The usual odors a car put out.

            Until his skin tightened, sealing around him as though he was inside an airlock, and all the oxygen was leaking from the chamber.

            “Cherron, get away from the car!” He yelled at her the same moment she opened the door. Without thinking, he launched himself toward her. He slammed into her at waist-high level as the vehicle exploded. The jump’s momentum took them sliding over the hood of the car parked next to his as a fireball rose up and outward. Yarrolam twisted his body, cradling her in his arms, and they landed on the pavement behind the second car. He hit the tarmac on his back, sliding and shredding his shirt, and leaving gashes in his skin. Cherron grunted upon impact, but remained unhurt as he kept her on top of him.

            Police poured out of the station. A couple of men brandishing fire extinguishers tried to put out the flames as others rushed around to check on him and Cherron.

            “Are you okay?” one officer yelled, holding out a hand.

            Yarrolam looked at the woman trembling in his embrace. “Cherron, are you hurt?”

            “N−no. I don’t think so. Oh, God, what happened?”

            “Don’t get up,” another officer ordered. “We’ve called for EMS.”

            “Vost?” Washoo hurried over to where they remained sitting on the ground. “Vost, what happened?”

            “I think someone booby-trapped my car.” He coughed as he tried to force the grit and smoke from his lungs. Turning his head, he pressed his nose into Cherron’s hair and breathed her in. He couldn’t smell blood, which meant she was unharmed, with the exception of some scrapes and bruises.

            “Liam?” Her voice was soft. Uncertain.

            “We’re alive, Cherron. Somebody tried to get to us again, but they failed. We’ll be all right.”

            She blinked, her dazed gaze finally settling on him. “But for how long?” she whispered. “You know what they say. Third time’s the charm.”

Chapter 10

Ambush

            Yarrolam stared at the video feed in disbelief. The man, dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, and with a Saints baseball cap on his head, could be seen casually walking around the police parking lot. Stopping behind Yarrolam’s car, he appeared to pull a piece of paper from his pocket and double-check the license plate number. He then glanced around the area to see if anyone was watching, either oblivious to the camera videotaping him, or not caring. The cap’s brim was pulled low enough over the man’s forehead to prevent them from getting a good look at his face. The man dropped down behind the trunk, disappearing for less than a minute, then stood and walked away, toward the street.

            In less than five minutes, the car had been booby-trapped. Although it had been all caught on camera, the man’s actions hadn’t raised any suspicions. Yarrolam began to doubt the police’s ability to protect him and Cherron.

            Which meant he would have to do it himself.

           
But, alone, I can’t face them. If I only had to worry about myself, I’d have no problem. But I can’t take any chances if I’m to keep Cherron safe.

           
“Can you recognize this man?” Washoo asked. “Does he look like one of those men who accosted you and Miss Greene in the restaurant parking lot?”

            Yarrolam shook his head. “No.”

            Cherron echoed him. “But it’s hard to tell from this angle.”

            The detective concurred. “Have the lab see if they can’t blow up the video. See if the guy has any distinguishing marks,” Washoo ordered. The detective straightened up and turned to Yarrolam. “Guess we have a change in plans.”

            “In what way?” Cherron demanded. With her fear subsided, she was angry, and for good reason. If they weren’t safe at the police station, what was left?

            “We’ll have to place you under our protection.”

            “You mean something like the witness protection program?”

            Washoo hesitated, then chose not to answer her. Instead, he ordered, “Stay here. I have to make a few calls.” Without further explanation, the man hurried out of the room.

            Cherron buried her face in her hands. Sighing loudly, she ran her fingers through her hair, scraping her nails over her scalp, and gave Yarrolam a frustrated glance. Unable to resist, he held out an arm in silent invitation. She came over to wrap her arms about his waist, pressing her face against his chest. He heard her take a deep breath, and he smiled inwardly. Other than the dank scent of worry and exhaustion, there was no fear in her. She felt completely safe with him, which meant she trusted him.

            The detective returned less than a quarter hour later. The man was accompanied by two men in casual dress. Undercover cops.

            “I’ve made arrangements for you to be taken to a safe house. If you’ll follow these two officers, they’ll drive you there.”

            Yarrolam stared at the men. “How long will we be under house arrest?” he asked tersely.

            “This isn’t house arrest. You’re not under arrest,” one of the men clarified.

            “If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s not a freaking cow,” Cherron muttered irritably. “What are you doing to find the person behind this whole mess?”

            “Miss Greene—”

            “You can’t keep us safe inside a fucking police station!” she continued. Her body trembled as she tried to control her re-emerged anger and frustration. “How are you going to keep us safe inside some hideaway?”

            Yarrolam tightened his arm around her waist, but he addressed the detective. “What happens if these people find out where you’re placing us? It’s obvious they followed me here. They knew which one was my car. What makes you so certain they won’t follow us to this hiding place?”

            He was fighting panic. The need, the urge to run, was nearly tearing him apart. But his fear was nothing compared to the increasing dread turning his blood to ice. He was convinced if he put his and Cherron’s safety entirely in the hands of the police, they would eventually end up being captured by the guy looking for Aaron. Or they’d end up dead.

            With Cherron’s heartbeat vibrating across his nerve endings, he came to the realization the only people who he could count on, the only people who could protect him and the woman who was meant to complete his life, were his fellow Ruinos. Somehow he had to get himself and Cherron away from police custody, then get her to where there was true safety.

            Washoo didn’t answer. The two undercover police stepped forward, motioning for Yarrolam and Cherron to accompany them. Cherron glanced up at him, questioningly. Giving her a nod, he released her and placed a hand to the small of her back, lightly urging her ahead of him.

            Rather than return to the lot at the rear of the station, they followed the men out through the front doors. They were helped into the back seat of a dark blue SUV parked in a visitor’s slot as the cops sat in front.

            Yarrolam paid attention to where they were going. Knowing the city as he did, he was curious to see where they ended up. Then, once they arrived, he would figure out a plan to get him and Cherron away.

But would she agree to go with him? Would she trust him enough to place her life in his hands?

To make matters more complicated, there was the very real possibility he would have to reveal his true self to her. But was she ready to discover his secret? In the few short hours he’d been with her, was it enough to allow her to accept him as he really was?

“It’s nearly two o’clock. Bet you two would like something to eat,” the man in the passenger side seat remarked. “We could pull into this burger joint coming up at the next light and get you guys something to eat.”

Cherron spoke up. “While you’re at it, we’ll need to stop someplace and get us a few things to wear. In case you didn’t realize it, our clothes and everything were in the trunk of the car.”

“There’s a WonderMart over on Barron,” Yarrolam suggested.

The man driving nodded. “I know the one you’re talking about. It’s on our way. Yeah, we can stop and let you grab a couple of things, but we can’t be long about it. They’re expecting us.”

They pulled through the drive-through for some hamburgers and a salad for Yarrolam. After which, they went to the discount store to pick up a change of clothes and a few toiletries.

One cop attached himself to Cherron, the other to Yarrolam. “Let’s make this quick,” the man with Cherron said. “A couple of changes, some underwear, and a toothbrush should suffice until the higher ups decide where to settle you permanently.”

            “Obviously you’re a bachelor,” Cherron dryly remarked to her bodyguard. At the guy’s perplexed expression, she added, “But, for your sake, I’ll try to make this a quick trip.”

            Yarrolam watched her walk away. It was as though a thin elastic band connected them, keeping them linked even when she disappeared inside the store. Her uneasiness continued to resonate through their tenuous bond, keeping him aware of the general area where she shopped as he and his guard entered through the wide doors and headed directly for the men’s section. The longer they were together, the stronger their ties became. The realization both surprised and pleased him.

            He took little time, scooping up two pairs of jeans and two T-shirts. When he ignored the underwear section, the cop said nothing.

            “I’m ready,” he told the man.

            The officer lifted an eyebrow. “What about toiletries?”

            “If we’re going to have to move again, I prefer to keep things to a minimum. Travel light,” Yarrolam responded.

            He grabbed a duffle bag as they passed the sporting goods department on their way to checkout. While they waited in line, the officer pulled his phone from his pocket and texted his partner. There was a familiar ding, and the cop grunted.

            “They’ll meet up with us outside. The woman says she needs a pair of running shoes.”

            Yarrolam smiled to himself. Cherron had been wearing a pair of flats when she’d gotten dressed that morning. They were all she had left. Opting for some athletic footwear was a wise choice.

            When they reached the car, he shoved his sack of clothes inside the duffle. He opened the door to toss it onto the back seat, when a hard, piercing shaft of terror sliced through him. It caught him by surprise, and he fell sideways against the vehicle.

            “Hey, buddy. You okay?” The officer reached out to him, but Yarrolam slapped the hand away with a growl.

            “Cherron!”

            There was no time to explain. Another spear of horror knifed him in the gut, and Yarrolam turned to race toward the store. The cop yelled for him to stop. Yarrolam sensed the man hustling to follow him as he dashed into the building.

            His connection to Cherron was surprisingly strong, yet he could feel it tightening as the distance between them grew. She was being taken away, and by the vibes humming through their link, he knew she wasn’t going voluntarily.

            A small crowd had gathered near a counter in the cosmetics department. Two security guards were trying to control the pandemonium when Yarrolam arrived. On the floor, he saw Cherron’s bodyguard lying prone amid a heap of clothing and a pair of neon yellow running shoes. Cherron’s purse lay nearby, its contents scattered. Blood droplets were splattered about, filling him with dread until he noticed the blood running down the man’s face and cheek from the gash on his forehead.

            “…and then this big bald guy jumped him,” a woman nearby was explaining to one of the security officers. “There was another guy with him. He grabbed the woman and carried her away. That’s when I saw the first dude had a gun, and I hustled my butt out of sight, you know what I mean?”

            Yarrolam’s bodyguard joined him. Seeing his partner on the ground, he ordered Yarrolam, “Stay here”, and pulled out the chain holding his badge from where he’d tucked it inside his shirt. “NOPD,” he informed the security guard, flashing the gold shield.

            Yarrolam bolted. He no longer trusted the police to help. If anything, they were now a hindrance. He had to find Cherron, and he couldn’t wait for them. The thread between him and Cherron was growing thinner and fainter with every second that ticked by.