Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Unsettling Encounter

"Ma’am?" the officer prompts again, his hands grasping the sides of his bulletproof vest. He looks relaxed, but he’s probably ready to take me down if I act out of line.

Never before have I thought, oh, I should be careful or an officer might tackle me to the ground.

Yet another thing on my list of firsts in these recent weeks. If God can stop throwing these at me, it’d be great. Not a single one of them would have ever ended up on my bucket list anyway.

Resigned to my fate, I just say, "I have no idea what happened. I was going home, and she attacked me. She’s my ex-fiance’s lover." No point in mentioning his murder here; I’m sure they already know about it. And if they don’t, they’ll know all about it when they look everything up.

He nods, jotting something down in a small notebook. "And your name?"

"Nicole d’Armand."

As the officer continues his questioning, I kneel down to finish gathering my scattered papers. My hands still tremble, and I can feel the beginnings of a massive headache pulsing behind my eyes.

The crowd begins to disperse, their entertainment for the day apparently over. But I can still feel their stares, hear their whispers. In their eyes, I’m no longer just the woman whose fiancé was murdered. Now I’m also the crazy ex who attacks grieving lovers in broad daylight.

God, what a mess.

I stuff the last of the papers into my bag, not caring that they’re crumpled and out of order. All I want is to get out of here, to find some quiet corner where I can lick my wounds and try to make sense of this latest disaster.

As I straighten up, clutching my bag like a lifeline, I catch sight of my reflection in the lobby’s polished marble walls. My hair is a mess, my borrowed clothes rumpled and askew. There’s a wild look in my eyes that I barely recognize.

The officer’s voice pulls me back to reality. "Ms. d’Armand, we’re going to need you to come down to the station to give a formal statement."

I nod numbly, too drained to argue.

* * *

It’s time for dinner by the time I leave the police station.

Again.

Seriously, I should just rent a room here. I’m sure it’s far from the last time I’ll be called in for questioning. Maybe I can just rent a hotel nearby.

Oh, yeah. I need to get a new car. That would make traveling easier, too. I should do that. Soon.

Cool air nips at my skin as I stand outside the police station, waiting for my rideshare. My mind races, replaying the day’s events on an endless loop. Another round of questioning, another set of suspicious glances. I’m exhausted, emotionally drained, and desperate for a moment of peace.

Which apparently means I have a flashing neon sign above my head inviting people to bother me.

A presence materializes beside me, familiar yet unwelcome. It’s Ethan, the vampire sniffing around Penelope. Just what I need to cap off this stellar day.

"Is it too much to expect a greeting?" His voice carries a hint of amusement.

I keep my eyes fixed on the street, willing my ride to appear. "I don’t know you."

"Come now," he chuckles, his charm dialed up to eleven. "We met just a few days ago. Surely you remember?"

The sky above us is a blanket of gray, threatening rain at any moment. I find myself wondering about vampires and the absurdity of it all. Here’s this immortal creature who wields umbrellas against the sun but walks around unbothered by the prospect of getting drenched, basking in the blocked sunlight.

"How long has it been? Since you were turned, I mean."

Ethan goes still beside me, the easy charm evaporating. "I didn’t expect such a rude question from you."

I say nothing, hoping my silence will discourage further conversation. The last thing I need is to encourage someone who really does give off stalker vibes.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify