Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha-Chapter 57: Not Without a Lawyer

The few steps to Nancy’s body feel like miles. Her blood has spread, a dark pool glistening in the fading light. The iron-rich scent is an assault on the senses, and I gag, fighting back the urge to vomit.

"Nancy?" I whisper, knowing it’s futile.

As I near her, my foot slips in the slick blood. I lose my balance, crashing to my knees beside her lifeless form. The warm stickiness seeps through my jeans and coats my hands, cooling at an alarming rate.

I force myself to look at her face. Her eyes stare blankly at the darkening sky, mouth slightly agape. The wound on her throat is a ragged mess of torn flesh. Her gun lies on the ground beside her.

As a human, she stood no chance against a panther shifter. But I never expected it to be so quick and one-sided.

I’m sure she didn’t, either.

"I’m sorry," I choke out, though I know she can’t hear me. "I’m so sorry."

My hands shake uncontrollably as I push myself to my feet, careful not to slip again in her blood.

Stumbling back to the car, my mind races with a single, determined thought.

I need to call someone.

My fingers leave bloody smears on the door as I wrench it open and practically fall into the driver’s seat. I hunt frantically for my phone, patting my pockets and searching the floor of the car.

Finally, I spot it wedged between the seat and the center console. I grab it, smearing blood across the screen as I try to unlock it. My heart sinks as I see the "No Service" icon in the corner.

"No, no, no," I mutter, holding the phone up and waving it around as if that might magically summon a signal. "Come on, please."

Desperation claws at my insides, but I realize I don’t even have Logan’s number saved. Penelope’s the one who has it. Even if I could get a signal, who would I call?

My eyes fall on the police radio mounted on the dashboard.

That.

That will work.

If I can figure it out.

I reach for it with trembling hands, trying to remember how I’ve seen it used in countless TV shows and movies. There’s a handheld mic attached by a coiled cord. I grab it, pressing the button on the side.

"Hello?" My voice cracks. "Is anyone there? Please, I need help."

Static crackles through the speaker. I try again, my words tumbling out in a panicked rush.

"This is Nicole d’Armand. I’m with—I was with Officer Nancy... I don’t know her last name. We’re on the mountain road near the Fernsby Mansion. There was an attack. A panther shifter. Nancy’s dead. Please, someone answer me!"

More static. Tears of frustration and fear blur my vision.

"Please," I beg into the mic. "Someone has to be listening. I need help. There’s a killer out here, and I don’t know what to do."

A crackle of static pierces the air, and a gruff voice emerges from the radio. "This is Officer Daniels. We copy your distress call. What’s your exact location?"

A sob of relief escapes my throat, my chest constricting with a mixture of hope and lingering terror. "Oh, thank God," I choke out, my voice trembling. "I’m on the mountain road, maybe two miles from the Fernsby Mansion. There’s a—" I swallow hard, fighting back another wave of nausea. "There’s a dead officer here. Nancy. A panther shifter attacked us."

"Stay calm, ma’am," Officer Daniels instructs, his tone steady but urgent. "We’re on the way. Are you injured? Is the attacker still in the area?"

I glance around frantically, my heart pounding against my ribcage. But the panther isn’t anywhere I can see. "I’m not hurt," I stammer. "The shifter ran off, but I don’t know if it’s coming back. Please hurry."

"We’re on our way now," Daniels assures me. "Stay in the vehicle and keep the doors locked."

"Yes," I whisper, my fingers tightening around the mic. "Please hurry."

"We’ll be there soon. Stay on the line with me, okay?"

I nod, forgetting for a moment that he can’t see me.

"Ma’am?"

"Okay," I manage to croak out.

* * *

The wail of sirens pierces the air, and relief floods through me. My hands shake as I clutch the radio mic, my knuckles white with tension. Flashing lights appear in the distance, growing brighter as they wind their way down the mountain road.

"They’re here," I breathe into the mic, my voice barely above a whisper.

"We can see you," Officer Daniels responds. "Stay in the vehicle until an officer approaches you."

As the cars screech to a halt, my eyes scan the sea of uniforms pouring out. My heart leaps when I spot a familiar figure among them. Logan. He’s here.

Officers fan out, guns drawn. Their faces are grim masks of determination as they survey the scene. Two of them approach Nancy’s body, their expressions tightening at the gruesome sight. Others disappear into the surrounding trees, searching for any sign of the panther, I assume.

An officer with brown hair and kind eyes approaches my car, his hand resting on his holstered weapon. "Ma’am, it’s me. Officer Daniels. I need you to step out of the vehicle slowly."

I nod, my movements jerky and uncoordinated as I fumble with the door handle. He helps me out, his grip firm but not unkind. My legs feel like jelly beneath me, and I struggle to stay upright.

"Nicole!" Logan’s voice cuts through the chaos. I turn to see him striding towards me, his face a storm of worry and anger. But before he can reach me, two officers intercept him, blocking his path.

"Sir, you need to stay back," one of them says, his tone brooking no argument.

Logan’s eyes flash dangerously. "Like hell I will. That’s my—" He cuts himself off, jaw clenching. "I need to speak with her."

"Logan," I call out, my voice cracking. "I’m okay. I’m—"

"Ma’am, I need you to focus on me," Officer Daniels says, drawing my attention back from the chaos ensuing. "Can you tell me exactly what happened here?"

I swallow hard, trying to organize my thoughts. "We were driving back. There was a loud noise, and Nancy lost control of the car for a moment. When we stopped, there was... there was a man in the middle of the road. She told him to stay back, but he started charging at her. he shifted into a panther and he—" My voice breaks, and I have to take a deep breath before continuing. "He attacked Officer Nancy. It happened so fast. I locked myself in the car and called for help on the radio."

The officer nods, jotting down notes. "And where did the panther go after the attack?"

"It just ran off into the trees. Over there." I point.

As I speak, I notice a change in the atmosphere. The officers searching the perimeter are returning, shaking their heads. They confer in low voices, their expressions growing more serious by the moment.

My heart plummets. Is there another victim out there?

"Is something wrong?"

Officer Daniels exchanges a look with his colleagues. One of them comes up with a frown. "Ma’am, are you sure you saw a panther?"

"Yes, of course. He was right here. It’s impossible to miss."

Officer Daniels grabs him by the shoulder. "Check the dashcam."

"Got it."

"Nicole," Logan yells suddenly, his voice tight with frustration. "Don’t say another word without a lawyer present."

His words are like cold water, and I turn in confusion.

Officer Daniels turns, his eyes narrowing. "Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step back and let us do our job."

Logan’s face contorts with rage. "Your job? Your job is to protect innocent people, not interrogate them when they’ve just been through a traumatic experience!"

As Logan argues with the officers restraining him, I become acutely aware of the way the others are looking at me. Their gazes are no longer sympathetic, but suspicious. I glance down at myself, suddenly remembering the blood coating my clothes and hands.

"I didn’t... This isn’t what it looks like," I stammer, panic rising in my chest. "I tried to help Nancy. That’s why I’m covered in blood. Check the dash cam. You’ll see!"

"Nicole, stop talking!" Logan shouts, his voice cutting through my rambling. "Don’t say another word until you have a lawyer present. Do you understand me?"