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Mistrals Kiss :: Гамильтон Лорел
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The police were calling to us. “What’s wrong?” “Is the princess hurt?”
“Stay in your cars and you’ll be safe,” Doyle yelled.
The closest car held two dark-suited men. One was young and dark, the other older and balding. “Charles, FBI,” the younger one said. “You don’t give us orders.”
“If the princess is in danger, I can, by your own laws,” said Doyle.
The older one said, “Special Agent Bancroft, what’s happening? That’s not geese I’m hearing.”
A uniform that was St. Louis city, one Illinois state trooper, and a local precinct cop joined us. Apparently, when the rest of the police went away after we’d last dealt with them here, they’d left a little bit of everybody behind. No one wanted to be left out, I guess.
“If you all stay in your cars, you will be safe,” Doyle repeated.
One of the younger uniforms said, “We’re cops. We’re not paid to be safe.”
“Spoken like someone who is not even close to his pension,” another officer said, one with more weight around his middle.
“Jesus,” one of them said. I didn’t have to glance back, for now Frost had caught up with us. He’d bled all over Rhys, so that it looked like Rhys was hurt worse. Abe was still bleeding from falling among the bones.
One of the uniforms touched his shoulder radio and started requesting an ambulance. Doyle yelled above the growing sound of wind and birds, “There is no time. They will be upon us in moments.”
“Who?” Bancroft asked.
Doyle shook his head and moved around the agent. He laid me in the passenger seat of the car, then opened the backseat door, saying, “Put Frost inside, Rhys.”
“I will not leave you,” Frost said. The men laid him in the seat even as he protested.
Doyle grabbed Frost’s shoulder and said, “If I die, if all of us die, if the others are gone into the ground for good, then you must survive. You must take her back to Los Angeles and not return.”
I started to get out of the car then. “I won’t leave you.”
Doyle pushed me back into the seat. He knelt down and gave me the full weight of his dark eyes. “Meredith, Merry, we cannot win this fight. Unless help arrives, we will all die. You have never seen this wild hunt, but I have. We will give them sidhe to hunt, and they will ignore this car. You and Frost will be safe.”
I gripped his arms, so smooth, so muscled, so solid. “I won’t leave you.”
“Nor I,” Frost said, struggling to sit up in the backseat.
The police were calling to us. “What’s wrong?” “Is the princess hurt?”
“Stay in your cars and you’ll be safe,” Doyle yelled.
The closest car held two dark-suited men. One was young and dark, the other older and balding. “Charles, FBI,” the younger one said. “You don’t give us orders.”
“If the princess is in danger, I can, by your own laws,” said Doyle.
The older one said, “Special Agent Bancroft, what’s happening? That’s not geese I’m hearing.”
A uniform that was St. Louis city, one Illinois state trooper, and a local precinct cop joined us. Apparently, when the rest of the police went away after we’d last dealt with them here, they’d left a little bit of everybody behind. No one wanted to be left out, I guess.
“If you all stay in your cars, you will be safe,” Doyle repeated.
One of the younger uniforms said, “We’re cops. We’re not paid to be safe.”
“Spoken like someone who is not even close to his pension,” another officer said, one with more weight around his middle.
“Jesus,” one of them said. I didn’t have to glance back, for now Frost had caught up with us. He’d bled all over Rhys, so that it looked like Rhys was hurt worse. Abe was still bleeding from falling among the bones.
One of the uniforms touched his shoulder radio and started requesting an ambulance. Doyle yelled above the growing sound of wind and birds, “There is no time. They will be upon us in moments.”
“Who?” Bancroft asked.
Doyle shook his head and moved around the agent. He laid me in the passenger seat of the car, then opened the backseat door, saying, “Put Frost inside, Rhys.”
“I will not leave you,” Frost said. The men laid him in the seat even as he protested.
Doyle grabbed Frost’s shoulder and said, “If I die, if all of us die, if the others are gone into the ground for good, then you must survive. You must take her back to Los Angeles and not return.”
I started to get out of the car then. “I won’t leave you.”
Doyle pushed me back into the seat. He knelt down and gave me the full weight of his dark eyes. “Meredith, Merry, we cannot win this fight. Unless help arrives, we will all die. You have never seen this wild hunt, but I have. We will give them sidhe to hunt, and they will ignore this car. You and Frost will be safe.”
I gripped his arms, so smooth, so muscled, so solid. “I won’t leave you.”
“Nor I,” Frost said, struggling to sit up in the backseat.