I squint. “No. Shiny like a...”
“A fucking police cruiser,” Apollo grunts back, his fingers tightening so hard around the wheel I hear something cracking. I hope it’s the wheel. “Everyone, stay calm. Act normal.”
My heartbeat picks up. What’s normal? What’s normal for us? A gang bang? What would the police officer do if he caught us making out in the back seat, the way we were about to do two seconds ago? A knot rises in my throat and I almost laugh out loud, hysterical with nerves. I tighten my hold around Ren’s hand, hoping I won’t break anything. Don reaches behind me, cold fingers on the nape of my neck.
“It’s alright,” he says, so softly I almost miss it. “A cruiser in a road as large as this? He can’t stop every car that drives his way.”
I nod. Don might be right. This guy can’t stop everybody. We’d be in a long line if he did. Apollo drives closer, the red and blue lights illuminating the night. Don brushes a thumb on my skin, drawing shivers from me. I lick my lips, swallowing as my stomach trains somersaults. We can’t be caught. Not here. Not when we’re so close from finally getting somewhere.
A lone officer stands by the side of the road, motioning for the cars to move on. He doesn’t seem to bat an eye to anyone, not until he meets Apollo’s gaze. I watch the cop’s brows lowering, his eyes narrowing. The knot in my throat grows. There’s no way he recognizes Apollo, is there? Apollo’s a Shifter Division cop. This guy would have to be one to recognize him.
He raises his palm to us, motioning for us to stop. My stomach flips. Shit. Shit shit. The tension in the car grows, though no one says a word. Oreo seems to feel it too, sliding from Tristan’s lap to the ground, hiding between the gargoyle’s feet. The dog releases a whimper, then quiets completely, until the silence between us grows unbearable.
The cop stomps closer to us, then leans against the car, arm on the roof. He narrows his eyes at Apollo, then at Tristan and the rest of us. “Interesting lot you have here.”
Apollo’s shoulders are taut as a bow string, both his hands on the wheel. “We’re just going to New York, officer. No problem intended. We were within speed limits, and everyone’s wearing a seatbelt.”
Sheesh, the accident meant to teach us to wear them, and it’s a good thing we’re not being stopped because of this. It would be a stupid reason to be caught.
The officer nods, slowly, his eyes on Apollo. “This car of yours smells funny.” That’s probably me. I fluster with the knowledge. “You guys have some illegal stuff going on?”
Apollo doesn’t react. “What do you mean, officer?” It feels like he’s holding back. Like he’s reading from a script, doing his best to be as conspicuous as possible.
“I mean, are you guys smoking something you shouldn’t?” And he smiles. He smiles like he’s hoping we’re about to offer him something. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to keep myself from replying. Dirty cop? All I know is that I don’t like him, and I want to leave.
Apollo shakes his head. “No smoking, officer. We’re just driving.”
“We were playing ‘I spy’,” offers Tristan, and Apollo shoots him a warning look that shuts him up. I press my lips together to avoid a smile. Cute. Tristan either makes me groan with lust, or squeal with how cute he is.
“‘I spy’?” The officer snickers. “The kids’ game? You are a weird lot.” And he makes his way to the back window, not spending a second staring at Don before he gazes at me. His eyes narrow again. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
I swallow. “Sir?” Does he think I was kidnapped or something? I am, after all, a girl in a car with four guys.
He smirks. “Are you a prostitute, sweetheart? You know, that’s not exactly legal on these parts.”
My face burns up. I’m pretty sure I get so hot there’s smoke coming out of my ears. “No prostitute, sir,” I say, my voice coming out weak and pathetic. Fuck, I’d usually send him to hell and tell him to fuck the devil’s rotten cock, but this guy’s a cop and he can arrest us if he wants to. There is a prize on my head, and I shouldn’t catch his eye. Apollo’s working so hard to pass by unnoticed. I can’t ruin everything.
“You sure?” He keeps the smirk on his face, unmoving, eyes glittering with delight. “Do you know what this looks like? A young woman like yourself with a bunch of men in a car? Barely clad, the way you are?” He clucks his tongue. “Not sure, sweetheart. Not sure... Why don’t you get out of the car and we can talk about it?”
My face warms further. I don’t want to imagine what he’s suggesting. Don’s grip on my neck tightens. He leans forward, cutting my eye contact with the office. “She’s not leaving,” he roars, and fear spikes inside me. I want to tell him he shouldn’t go against the man, but Apollo’s shoulders bunch too.
“And she’s not a fucking prostitute. She’s my mate, pal.” And his voice roars with aggression, and it rolls down my spine like an icy finger, making me shiver. “And I’m going to ask you to respect her.” I’m not seeing his face, but something tells me he’s baring his teeth, and his eyes are swirling with gold, promising blood.
The smirk vanishes from the cop’s face and he straightens his spine. For a split second, I think he’s going to step away and let us be, but I should have known better. Luck is never on my side. The man offers his palm to Apollo. “License and car’s papers.” He doesn’t say please. Rude.
I can feel Apollo’s tension in my gut, like he’s an exposed wire, buzzing with electricity. I want to reach out and touch him, wordlessly asking him to relax, but he moves before I act. He reaches out for the glove compartment and picks up the papers. I’m surprised he knew where to find them. When he turns to the officer, he already has his license in hand, and I’m twice surprised. When we took a dive in the river, what feels like two lifetimes ago, I remember his phone drowning out. Thought any documents would have gone to shit too.
Which reminds me I have no documents in my person. They were in my jacket, with my phone, left behind in the club when I ran away after killing the Light Mage. A shiver of dread races through me, collecting in my stomach like lead. Fuck. If this man asks for an ID, I’m entirely screwed. I’ll single-handedly screw everyone up because I totally forgot this tiny problem.
Gritting my teeth, I wait, and wait, hoping he doesn’t ask for anyone else’s ID. I cross the fingers of my free hand, the other gripping Ren’s so hard he can’t have blood flowing to his fingers any longer. My heart beats in my throat, and I keep my best poker face on as I stare ahead, pretending to be bored as the man analyzes the documents.
“This isn’t your car,” he mutters to Apollo.
“It’s a friend’s.”
Gods, he can’t ask the friend’s name. Is this car in Prince’s name? Someone else’s? Apollo definitely doesn’t know. Or did he check? I’m halfway to puking out of nerves. That would dampen the lust in the car for real.
The man nods, then shows us his back and walks to his cruise. I lean forward, between the seats. “What is he doing?” I whisper to Apollo.