Chapter Six

Sirens screamed and he went back in to find her other friend. Also deceased. He bent and carried her out. When Dyana saw him, she pushed up and made her way to his side. Her limp distinguishable but her face unreadable.

She searched his face and he shook his head. Her brows converged and he knew she fought tears. The cop car led the way up her drive and he placed Shyla on the ground as Dyana was wrapped up by Markus’ arms.

Unsettled, he made his way to her side. Markus glared at him over her head.

“You. What are you doing here?”

Up and down Markus ran his hands along her back. Casimir didn’t care to even explain his feelings. “I came to talk to my wife.” He reached out and removed her from the familiar embrace. Her resistance was negligible as he pressed her face to his chest.

“Wife?” Markus growled.

“Mine.” His wolf rumbled in agreement.

****

What the fuck happened? Dyana struggled to breathe. Dead. Explosions. Dead. Regina and Shyla taken from her. Their bodies mangled and limp. Had he not shown up, she would be lying there as well. Guilt assuaged her and her belly heaved. Her legs trembled and she tightened her fingers on the coat of the man holding her. Leather? Markus didn’t have a leather jacket on.

Nor did he smell so good. The scent of burning materials and charred flesh were no longer prevalent in her nose. Instead it had been replaced by a compilation of crisp clean air and pungent pine. Wilderness. Freedom. And masculinity.

She jerked away and stared up at him. His bold blue eyes waited for her. Was it her imagination or did she witness compassion in their depths? Past him, men put out the flames and the EMT’s zipped up the body bags. A sight which spurred her into action. Ignoring her screaming leg, she ran to the only two she trusted with all of her secrets and fears, her best friends in the entire world. Her entire world.

“Wait!”

Susie paused and motioned for James to do the same. Biting her lower lip, Dyana touched each one, silently wiling them to open their eyes and tell her it was all joke. A horrible nasty joke.

“Yana?”

Markus stood before her, hand on the small of her back. “Take ‘em,” he said, drawing her close as the stretchers moved by. “I need to talk to you.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.” He led her to the back of his patrol car and pressed her to the seat. “Care to explain this?”

“I would love to,” she snapped. “I can’t. I was out shooting when this happened. Someone also took a shot at me.”

“He shot at you?”

She gazed in Casimir’s direction, calm covering her at his gaze. “No, he was with me out there.”

“Why?”

She frowned. “Why what?”

“Was he there with you.”

“We were talking?” Why does it matter?

“About?”

The doors slammed on the ambulance and her belly heaved. Her friends were in there without her. They’d never again share a beer, go dancing, cry together, or laugh.

“Yana?”

“Huh?”

“Talking about what?”

She stood, wobbling slightly and wincing in pain. “My grandparents.” With that she hobbled over to where Casimir stood by two officers. Almost like they were keeping him contained. Casimir wasn’t paying them any mind; his gaze was on her. Watching. Waiting.

She swallowed back her nausea before making her way to his side. “We need to talk.”

He began to step forward when the two men stopped him. She narrowed her gaze at them.

“What are you two doing?”

“Orders, Dyana. Markus said to keep an eye on him.”

With a scoff she said, “So watch him. We need to talk in private.”

“You’re not his attorney.”

Her irritation had grown swiftly. “No, but I am his wife, Jerimiah, so if you don’t mind. We are allowed privacy.”

It was the officer’s turn to scowl but he eventually shuffled aside. Casimir flowed with his movements and she couldn’t help compare the two. Predatory versus prey. Lethally muscular to portly.

She made it, barely, to a stump and sat. He stood before her legs braced feet shoulder width apart, and arms crossed.

“Did you have anything to do with this?” She despised how shaky and the ready weak her voice sounded.

“No.” His response fell quickly.

“You better not be lying to me.” She covered her face and wiped the tears gathering.

“What reason would I have to do so?”

She didn’t lift her head. When he moved her hands, she found him on his knees. Eye to eye he waited for a response. His hands were strong and warm. Instead of thinking and dwelling on how little she knew this man she allowed herself to succumb to the tears.

Casimir didn’t speak when Markus came back to her side however, neither did he leave her side. On autopilot she answered more questions about the shooting and explosions. Her silent companion accompanied her to the place they’d been fired upon. To her mind, Casimir seemed to be searching for something.

At the end of the questioning, Dyana had zero energy remaining. The hour shortly past noon. And yet to her it was as if she was coming off a twenty-four-hour shift.

The news crews began streaming in and both Markus and Casimir sheltered her. Wrapped in a blanket in the back of Markus’ car she rocked as the tears flowed from her eyes. When Casimir opened the door and stuck out his hand, she took it. The men shared a look but to her amazement they didn’t say a word to each other about her departing with Casimir.

He held the door for her and she sank into the buttery soft leather. The vehicle type not registering. Right now all she craved was some peace and quiet. And a drink. She closed her eyes and didn’t bother asking where he was taking her.

Casimir parked before the hotel and assisted her out. More reporters-from where she hadn’t a clue-rushed them. He settled his strong arm around her and she turned her face to his jacket, trusting him to guide her to safety. The sound of a door clicking had her leaving the comfort he offered. His room had no bags she could see. One king sized bed which dominated the space. She gulped and bolted for the bathroom where she lost the little amounts she’d been carrying in her body.

The dry heaving continued. Her limbs trembled as she knelt on the cold tile floor. Movement from behind wasn’t enough to shatter through the wall she was erecting.

He sat along the edge of the tub and stared at her. His bold, blue eyes boring into her, seeing way more than she would have liked. Thankfully he didn’t speak, although she sensed his disapproval.

Not that I give a damn. What the fuck do I need his approval for?