“Ms. Norville.” O’Farrell made a calming gesture. I sat back.
Hardin said, “A man has been murdered and you’re saying there’s nothing wrong with that?”
“No, it’s just—” It’s just that yeah, within the law of the pack, it was all right. T.J. was the dominant wolf and Zan had overstepped his bounds. I wanted the double standard, now that it would benefit me. “He did it to protect me. Zan attacked me first, and—”
“Ms. Norville.” O’Farrell’s tone was cautioning.
I was doing everything I could to not say the name. And really, it wasn’t defensive. Zan had backed off. T.J. killed him anyway. In the eyes of human law, T.J. was a murderer.
I curled up in the chair and pressed my face to my knees.
O’Farrell stood up. “Detective Hardin, could I have a word with you?”
The lawyer and detective moved to the opposite corner of the room and spoke in low whispers. They didn’t seem to know I could still hear them.
“Ms. Norville is cooperating to the fullest extent of her current ability. She’s been injured, hasn’t had any sleep, and is in no state to answer your questions at this time. Let her go home and get some rest. You can talk to her later. She’ll probably be more helpful then.”
“Let her go so she can get together with this other guy and straighten out their stories?”
“Look at her record—she’s not even a flight risk. Clean as a whistle.”
“Except for being a werewolf.”
He shrugged. “Not her fault.”
Hardin looked away with a huff. She pulled a cigarette out of her trousers pocket, patted the other pocket for a lighter, but didn’t find one. She pointed at O’Farrell with the unlit cigarette. “If I let her go, promise me you’ll ta
lk some sense into her. I don’t want to have to arrest her for anything.”
“I’ll do my best, Detective.”
I had to talk to T.J. That was all I wanted right now.
O’Farrell stood next to my chair. “Ms. Norville? Come on, let’s go.”
Hardin stopped me before opening the door. “Don’t leave town.”
My throat was still dry. This place tasted dry and cold. All I could do was press my lips together and nod, my eyes downcast.
Outside, the sky was gray with dawn. Almost too bright. My exhausted eyes stung with the faint light. The air was biting, reaching into my bones.
The lawyer and I stood for a moment on the sidewalk outside the police station.
I said, “Me being a werewolf. Does it bother you? Are you an antimonster crusader like Cormac?”
He smiled as if I’d said something funny, an expression reminiscent of one of Cormac’s smirks. “If Cormac were a crusader, he’d have shot you the first time he met you, no matter what the circumstances were.”
“Then what is he?”
“He just likes seeing how close to the edge he can get without falling off.”
Somehow, Cormac as mercenary-with-a-death-wish was a scarier proposition than Cormac as mercenary-with-convictions.
“What are you?”
He shrugged. “Equal opportunity attorney-at-law.”
“Yeah, I guess. Thanks for getting me out of there.”