Under His Wings(18)

So did Nicolai. With bated breath.

“Yes,” she replied and the tension in the small cordoned-off area ratcheted up several decimals. “He was tall, maybe six-four or six-five. Dark hair and eyes. Handsome. He wore a black shirt and pants.”

“Any distinguishing marks? Scar? Tattoo?” Roland pressed, though still gently under Dr. Conway’s watchful eye.

Tamar started to shake her head, but grimaced and obviously reconsidered the action. “Not that I could see.”

“If you didn’t recognize him, do you know of anyone who would want to hurt you?” the same detective asked.

She parted her lips, shut them. Then finally said, “No, I can’t think of anyone.”

Nicolai smelled the lie from across the room.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Scott urged, scribbling in his pad.

Again a pause, and then in a halting voice the story of the confrontation with Evander spilled out of her. Nicolai listened, as rapt and entranced by the narration as the police and doctor.

“He stared at me like he knew me. Said my likeness was uncanny, that he gave him a chance. I’m not sure what he meant by that. He added he would save me for last. Then…” She faltered, her lashes lowering before lifting, dread and horror darkening the amber so her eyes almost appeared black. “Then he changed.” She swallowed hard and Nicolai’s breath froze in his lungs. Fear of her next words seized him, shook him like a rag doll in its unrelenting grasp. “He changed into this…this thing.”

Both detectives frowned, shared a confused glance over her bed, then arrowed their attention back to her. “A thing?” Scott asked.

“Yes,” Tamar said, her murmur so low the two men leaned forward to catch her next words. “A monster,” she rasped. “A horrible monster with an eagle’s head, wings and a horse’s back and legs. He leaped on Resa, tore her apart. I couldn’t see it, but the sound…” She gagged and the doctor rushed to scoot a small pink pan underneath her chin. After a moment, Tamar recovered and weakly pushed it away. “Then it turned to me, but another one crashed into it and I guess I fell, hit my head. That’s all I remember.”

A heavy shocked silence descended in the small cubicle. Nicolai scrutinized the police detectives’ bewildered expressions, noted the moment their surprise changed to tired resignation. Scott flipped his notebook closed.

Tamar sighed. “I realize how it must sound—”

“Don’t worry,” Brenda said briskly. She flicked a glance at the two men. “It must be the pain medication she’s been given. I warned you she may not be coherent.”

Roland acknowledged the admonishment with a nod though disappointment creased his brow, turned down the thin line of his mouth. ”Tamar, is it okay if we come by your home tomorrow after you’ve been released?” He paused as if searching for a phrase that wouldn’t offend her…or accuse her of being crazier than a shithouse rat. “We’d like to go over your statement again just to clarify a few points.”

Tamar seemed as resigned as the two detectives. “Yes,” she murmured and closed her eyes.

The men, followed by the physician, exited the bay. Once their hushed voices faded, she raised her lashes and turned her head in his direction.

Nicolai dropped his arms and pivoted to the bed. For an instant that stretched like an eon, he imagined her amber stare pierced his magic and she spied him standing across the floor. But then Dr. Conway barged back in and Nicolai exhaled a harsh breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

The implications of what Tamar had witnessed left him reeling.

His race’s existence depended on their ability to remain invisible to the human world. It was Nicolai’s purpose, his mission to defend that mantle of secrecy.

Not only did he have to hunt the rogue who threatened it, but now he had to protect his people from a human female who’d seen too much.





Chapter Three



Tamar closed the front door behind Detectives Scott and Roland with a weary sigh. True to their word, they’d called on her a couple of hours after she’d been released from the hospital. She’d recounted her statement of the attack the previous evening, prudently omitting the part about her and Resa’s assailant shifting to a horrifying monster. Even jacked up on pain killers last night, she’d noticed their disbelief. She’d been granted a pass because of her ordeal but damn, if Tamar had been the cop listening to an accounting of a vicious eagle-horse beast, she’d have outfitted the person for a new white jacket and the eighth floor of Grace Crossings Memorial would have had a new resident…after administering a test for hallucinogens. Maybe she’d cracked her head on the sidewalk before the attack…