One
Magnus stepped out of the plane and stopped abruptly on the steps, his fingers tightening around the handle of his suitcase as a frigid north wind blasted over him. It was cold enough to steal his breath away and had him briefly wishing he could turn around, reseat himself on the plane, and demand to be taken home to the UK. Then he spotted the SUV pulling onto the private landing strip.
Straightening his shoulders, Magnus ducked his head and quickly descended the stairs to the tarmac, leaning into the frigid, roaring wind to do so. He was resolved to staying. He hadn’t flown all the way here from England just to turn tail at the first chill breeze and fly back home without collecting the woman he’d come for.
“What did you do? Check the weather forecast for the coldest time of year to arrive and book the flight for then?”
Magnus lifted his head at that shouted comment to see that the SUV had pulled to a halt just a few feet in front of him, and a young dark-haired male had got out on the driver’s side to rush around to him.
“Tybo,” he greeted mildly, giving up his suitcase when the younger man reached for it. “It is a bit brisk.”
“Brisk, my ass. It’s freezing.” Tybo shouted to be heard over the wind as he stowed the suitcase in the back of the SUV. Closing the door then, he hurried around to the driver’s side, adding, “I’ll be surprised if the pilot can take off now he’s here. His wings probably have ice on them already.”
Magnus merely grunted and slid into the front passenger seat, eager to enjoy the waiting warmth.
“How was the flight?” Tybo asked, fiddling with buttons and knobs to adjust the heat.
“Uneventful. I slept most of the way,” Magnus admitted as the younger man put the heat on full blast, sending a rush of warm air over him.
“Good. You’re all rested up, then, and ready to go,” Tybo muttered as he shifted the vehicle into gear and pulled a U-turn on the landing strip.
“To go?” Magnus asked, eyes narrowing. “The only place I am going is to Marguerite Argeneau Notte’s. I was told you would take me there.”
“Well, as it turns out, Marguerite came to collect you herself,” Tybo informed him.
“Then why are you driving past the house toward the gates?” Magnus asked, turning his head to stare at the Enforcer house as they passed it.
“Well, see, as I said, Marguerite came over to get you, and while waiting, she happened to be chatting to myself and Sam about your life mate—”
“Possible life mate,” Magnus corrected, mostly for his own benefit. He was trying to keep from getting too excited until he knew things would work out. He’d lived a long time and for most of that time had longed for a mate. Getting his hopes up only to have them be crushed would be unbearable. It was better he hold on to a “wait and see” attitude.
Tybo grunted, but continued. “Mortimer came into the kitchen where we were talking, just in time to hear her name was Allison Chambers.”
“Allie,” Magnus corrected. “Marguerite says she prefers Allie.”
“Right. Allie. Anyway, it seems he’d just heard on the police radio that an Allison Chambers had been arrested for robbing a blood bank and he was going to send—”
“What?” Magnus interrupted with horror. “My Allie robbed a blood bank?”
“Yes. Well, we’re quite sure it was your Allie. It’s the blood bank where she works. Mortimer was going to send Valerian and me to the hospital to see if this robbery was immortal related or not, but once he realized she was your life mate—”
“She robbed a blood bank?” Magnus repeated, still stuck on the fact that she’d robbed anything. Then Tybo’s latest words sank in and he asked with alarm, “Why the hospital? Was she hurt?”
“Mortimer wasn’t sure why the police took her to the hospital. You know that officers only radio in the bare basics.”
Magnus scowled at the lack of information, now worried that his possible life mate might be injured, or even dying. That would be just his luck. Find a life mate just as she died.
“So, we’re going to the hospital to find out what’s what,” Tybo finished solemnly.
Magnus nodded and then shook his head. “Why the devil would she rob a blood bank? Marguerite said she was mortal.”
Tybo shrugged. “That’s something Mortimer wants us to find out. If she was actually robbing the place,” he added meaningfully. “I mean, she works there, after all. Maybe the police made a mistake.”
“So you’re saying this was all a big mistake?”
Allie ignored the dry skepticism in the older police officer’s tone and focused her attention on the much more sympathetic younger officer as she answered, “Well, it is if you think I was breaking and entering the blood bank. I didn’t break in. I have keys,” she pointed out. “I work there.”
“And you just went there to move some product. At eleven o’clock at night?” the older officer asked dubiously.
Allie nodded firmly. “I needed to move some blood pegged for the hospital to the proper refrigerator. I forgot to do it before I left earlier today.”
“And you thought this was a good idea at eleven o’clock at night?”
Allie shrugged. “That’s when I left the party and thought of it.” Offering a wry smile, she added, “Mind you, I’d been drinking, so my judgment might have been off. Still, I didn’t want my boss to have to do it in the morning. She’s older and her arthritis has been acting up.”
She paused to eye both men to see how they were accepting what she’d said. “Besides, what would I steal from the blood bank? There’s no money or drugs or anything there. All there is in the place is blood. Who would steal blood?”
Much to her relief, that seemed to be a convincing argument since the younger officer nodded as if what she’d said made sense, and the skepticism on the older officer’s face eased considerably. Then the older one asked, “And your outfit?”
Allie glanced down at the black jeans and black blouse she was wearing, but knew it was really the black cat mask that they were talking about. Fortunately, at the last minute she’d thought to add it just in case something unexpected happened and she got caught. Thank goodness, since she’d fainted midway through the ordeal, and cracked her head on the hard tile floor when she fell. She’d apparently been found by one of the cleaners when they arrived at midnight. Which is how she’d found herself waking up here in the emergency department of the hospital with a doctor and these two officers staring down at her, full of questions.
“It was a costume party,” she said now, giving the excuse she’d come up with ahead of time. “I went as a cat . . . not a cat burglar.” She added that last bit with a quirky smile and silently prayed they’d buy her excuse. Noting the way the younger officer’s lips twitched, Allie felt sure she was convincing them. “I must have left my ears at the party. They were on a headband and it was kind of tight. Started to give me a headache as the night went on. Or maybe that was the booze,” she added, although she hadn’t had a single drink tonight. It was better they think she was a tipsy idiot than a blood-stealing fiend. She simply couldn’t go to jail. Who would watch Liam?