“Yes.”
Several seconds ticked by, and West pointed a finger at him. “Answer the question. And step over here slowly.”
Malachi narrowed the distance to ten feet, then stood still again. He gazed down at the man, and his gold eyes glinted. Then he blinked, a dismissal, and addressed Kelly instead.
“You’re the ranking officer.”
“That’s right,” Kelly said. “I’m getting the strong sense you are as well.”
“I’m alpha of this pack.”
“And is that why you’re here? Checking on your people?”
“Correct.”
“For the record we have no problem with that. Do I need to summarize the situation that brought us out here?”
“No.” Malachi looked toward Ezra, question and care in his eyes.
Ezra tried to shrug, and the cuffs rattled. The presence of his dad and his alpha helped to calm his body, yet the tight steel around his wrists made him want to howl. “Didn’t see this coming,” he said quietly. “But yeah, I’m fine.”
West hadn’t stopped staring at Mal. “For our safety and yours, Mr. Fuller, you need to step forward with your hands behind your head.”
Malachi did not move. “I won’t allow myself to be manacled.”
The sudden quiet seemed to rise from the ground around them, spiked with danger. For a long moment, everyone was still. West seemed to weigh his options, to weigh the simple pronouncement that he was not the ultimate authority on this ground.
“Within his rights,” Kelly said. “Let it go.” Then he turned back to Ezra. “So your statement is that on Thursday you drove Willow here because she asked you to. How did that happen?”
Ezra’s neck and shoulders began to ache. He bowed his head a moment to stretch and ease his neck, then met Kelly’s level gaze. This man was doing his job. This man seemed fair, as far as he could tell.
“Her parents found out she was dating me and locked her out of the house. She called me, and I came.”
“Did you speak to her parents, see them at all?”
“They came out of the house to confront me. Her father hit me a few times, maybe six or seven times. Said some things.”
“‘Some things’? That’s pretty vague,” West said.
Ezra swallowed the shame of the words. It wasn’t his shame to hold. He said, slowly and clearly, “Her father called me a dirty werewolf.”
Malachi gave a low growl that must be hardly audible to human ears. Instantly West brandished his weapon and pointed it at Malachi’s chest.
A snarl ripped from Malachi’s throat, loud this time. Very loud. Never had Ezra heard such a threatening sound from his friend. Kelly and Davis had not reacted at all to Malachi’s wolf voice, seeming to know his initial growl wasn’t directed at them. But West kept the gun aimed, center mass, though Malachi had made no move whatsoever. The moment stretched on as Mal’s voice continued to shred the night, the sound of a wolf warning his enemy not to take him on, warning there would be no kindness offered.
Beside Ezra, Dad growled too, a low rumbling stress response to the deadly aim taken at their alpha and friend. Ezra managed to swallow his own growl. Deescalate. That’s what they had to do, though they weren’t at fault here.
Oh, crap. Rhett was on the move.
“You get down on the ground right now,” West shouted at Malachi.
“Officer West, stand down,” Kelly said. “That’s a direct order from your sergeant.”
“I follow that order and this thing’s going to eat me.”
“West! Stand down now!”
Davis stepped up, set a hand on his colleague’s stiff arm, and pushed it down. The weapon lowered inch by inch until it pointed at the ground. Malachi’s growl grew quiet but didn’t stop. In the shadows at the end of the driveway, hidden from human eyes, Rhett halted his forward rush.
