"Meaning I've already tried to kill myself?"

He grimaced. "That wound on your shoulder is from a gunshot. You only missed because I managed to grab the gun in time. "

Liar, liar, pants on fire . . .

And yet, the wound was a gunshot wound. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe it was my internal voice that was lying.

"How did I get hold of a gun?"

He snorted. "We're licensed security officers, so guns aren't a problem. "

I didn't feel like a security officer. I felt like I was something more. Not a cop, but something along those lines. Someone who dealt with life and death on a daily basis.

Which I guess a security officer could do, if we were in the business of guarding people rather than possessions.

I looked out the window, watching the emptiness go by, feeling its echo deep inside. "I can't remember any of this. "

His gaze swept me again - something I felt rather than saw. "Well, you've obviously received several nasty blows to the head, so that's probably why. Give it time. "

Time. For some reason, that was something that seemed in very short supply.

A week, that voice had said.

What would happen after that?

I didn't know, and I didn't intend to hang around long enough to find out. Whatever this was, whatever was going on, I needed to sort it out well before then.

I shifted my focus to the approaching town. It didn't look huge, but it seemed quite pretty. The main street was about half a mile long, with grand old buildings clustered on either side of the road and the blue of the moonlit ocean visible down at the far end. Cars were angle-parked along the street, and people strolled about casually -

some in beach gear, some not. Trees and wide verandas provided shade from the elements, as did the white umbrellas that sat above the tables in the outside restaurant areas. Hanging pots filled with flowers and creeping vines dangled from the ornate light posts that lined the street, and the nongardener in me wondered how the hell they managed to keep them alive in the heat.

"Where are we staying?"

"Bayview Villas. We have a two-bedroom unit right on the beach. "

"Sounds nice. "

"It is. " He swung into a side street and the buildings gave way to old but pretty houses. We passed several more streets then swung right. The sea suddenly seemed a whole lot closer, the sound of waves crashing against the shoreline sharper.

He swung left, into a driveway, and stopped. The building was white concrete, but had the same wide verandas that the older buildings did. It also had a big blue-and-white sign out the front that said POLICE.

I raised my eyebrows and looked at him. "Why are we here?"

He undid his seat belt and climbed out. "Because I reported your accident and the fact you were missing, and now need to unreport you, before they arrange another search party for tomorrow. You coming?"

I shrugged but climbed out and followed him into the station. The inside reception area was cool and dark. A woman behind the desk glanced up as we entered and gave us both a warm smile.

"Evin," she said, standing up. She was tall and thinnish in build, with sandy-colored hair and sunburned cheeks.

"You've found her. "

Her scent said she was a werewolf, and if the hunger in her eyes was anything to go by, then she was very interested in Evin, but he didn't seem to notice or care. And that oddly seemed right.

"Yeah," he said, stopping several feet away from the desk and studying her with an almost amused expression.

"Is Harris about?"

"No, he's been called out. "

Tags: Keri Arthur Riley Jenson Guardian Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net