Andthatwas the point where I lost the battle with my nausea.
It was all a blur from there. I was cuffed, read my rights, and stuffed into the back of a white patrol car with yellow lettering declaring its association with the sheriff’s office down the sides.
The officers who arrested me were very clear about what would happen to me if I even considered shifting, despite both of them scenting human. They knew what I was, and cuffing my hands behind my back was a preventative measure for most shifter species. If I tried to shift, I would probably injure myself pretty severely, but my dragon could still break the cuffs and do a hell of a lot of damage even while injured.
“I’m not…I didn’t do anything wrong,” I insisted, my stomach still unsettled from the scent of the shack, now embedded in my nostrils and in the fibers of my clothes. The acrid taste in my mouth from having thrown up in the middle of that dank little room wasn’t helping either. “You’ve got the wrong guy. I was—”
“Dealing pot and a bunch of unknown substances?” the officer in the passenger seat snarked over his shoulder, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Owning what looks to me like a meth lab in your bedroom.”
“My—?” I choked out incredulously. “You think I lived in that…that…hellhole?”
“I think you were squatting there, yeah. Place has been abandoned for years, and nobody ever drives this far out of town, making it a perfect location for a little drug den.” He smirked. “Which I figure you already worked out.”
“It’s not…that wasn’t my place. I wasn’t squatting there, I was—”There to buy some illegal shifter chemicals often used in pack-on-pack warfare?Yeah, I wasn’t telling him that. “—asking for directions. I left my phone at home and…” I trailed off to the sound of both of the officers’ laughter.
“Asking who, exactly?” The driver finally spoke, but he kept his gaze on the road. “You were the only one there.”
“And you’re a shifter,” the passenger interjected. “Your kind don’t need to ask for directions. Somethin’ about superior senses and shit.”
He…wasn’t wrong.
Damn it.
Why had I lied?
“Okay, fine, I was there to buy…something. But I’m not…I mean, that wasn’t my place. It wasn’t my stuff. There was another guy. He was short, and really gross, and—”
“Save it for your lawyer, bud,” said the passenger, shaking his head. “You’re going to need one.”
My heart began to race, the reality of my predicament settling over me. In four hundred years, I had never once been in this kindof situation. I’d been a model citizen in both human and shifter circles. And now…now I’d been framed, and the evidence seemed pretty damning (even I could tell that) and nobody even knew where I was!
Emotion tightened my throat, and my belly churned again.
“I’m going to be sick,” I warned.
“You vomit in my car, and you’ll be cleaning it yourself,” the driver growled. “Fucking junkies.”
I shook my head, denying the accusation, but stopped as it made me dizzy and lightheaded. Panic was setting in, the edges of my vision darkening while my chest felt constricted.
I wanted my mates. My brothers. Hell, even my Pack Alpha. Anyone to save me from this ridiculous —and terrifying— situation.
I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed my eyes, trying to calm my breathing. It was ragged and loud, on the verge of hyperventilation, and I ignored the officers telling me to ‘man up’ and get my shit together.
It was no use. All the worst-case scenarios were building up in my mind. With nobody else to pin the crime of having gods-only-knew how much drugs and crap stashed in that old shack, and with no way to prove that there had been another shifter there,andwith being found holding a giant bag of weed…I was fucked. They were going to throw the book at me, especially because I was a dangerous shifter.
Plus, once they worked out my species, I doubted the humans would be any kinder or more lenient. A dragon —Eric— had levelled a building in Manhattan a few years earlier and people were still fearful of the idea of us lurking amongst them. Imagineadding drug dealing to the crime of being a fire breathing monster on top of that!
And the last thing I did was tell Serge and Dex to fuck off.
“Buddy, are you…are youcrying?” the officer in the passenger seat asked in a strange mixture of horror and humor. He turned to his partner. “He’scrying. Can run a fucking drug den, but not man enough to face the consequences, huh?”
I shook my head but stayed mute. It didn’t matter that I knew I was innocent; there was no way they were going to believe me. I couldn’t really blame them. If I had burst in to find a guy holding a bag of drugs and nobody else in sight, I would have thought the same thing. That just made it feel all the more unfair. More tears dripped down my cheeks.
I’m sorry,I thought miserably as I watched miles of uninterrupted fields and dirt fly past through blurred vision.Dex, Serge…I’m sorry.
The station I was taken to was in Sioux City, but was unlike any police station I’d ever seen before, not that I’d been in many, even over my extended lifetime. The sheriff's officers handed me over to a pair of menacing men in suits, neither of whom showed me a badge or any form of ID. Then I was led through an old, unmarked building which appeared more industrial than for the purpose of public service, and I found myself thrown unceremoniously into a small cell.
The space was maybe six feet squared, surrounded by bars and with a brick wall at the back. A tiny window for air —also barred off— was embedded into the rough red bricks just above my head height. On one side of the space was a stainless steel sink and a matching toilet without a seat, and on the other side was a bare cot, bolted to the floor.
