“Can I help you?” The man stared at him expectantly.
“Um… Yes.” Aaron walked closer to the desk. “I’m here to see Detective Sergeant Archer.”
“Name?”
“Aaron Harper.”
The guy consulted his computer, and Aaron caught the sudden but subtle tense of his shoulders.
He knows I’m a shifter.
Aaron wondered what else it said next to his name. For the first time since this all started, he was curious to know if there was a file on him detailing his life so far. Was there one on Harry too?
The thought unsettled him.
“One second.” The guy picked up his desk phone, pressed a few numbers, and then said, “Aaron Harper’s waiting for you in reception.” After ending the call, he glanced up at Aaron. “Someone will be down to collect you shortly.”
“Thanks.”
Rather than linger in front of his desk, Aaron stepped away and wandered over to look out of the windows. It took him a few seconds to realise he couldn’t hear anything other than the click-clack of the receptionist’s fingers on his keyboard and the whir of his computer. He couldn’t hear anything from outside or any voices from behind the closed doors.
Aaron guessed it made perfect sense for the SCTF building to be fully soundproofed.
The soft snick of a door opening caught Aaron’s attention and he turned to see Archer walk through. He smiled when he saw Aaron, and the sight of it made Aaron’s heart beat that little bit faster. The way Archer’s eyes crinkled at the corners led Aaron to believe he laughed a lot—under different circumstances, obviously—and Aaron wanted to experience that. Wanted to be the cause of it.
Get a fucking grip, Aaron. He wanted to arrest you, remember?
Instinct drowned out the voice of reason in his head, and Aaron was smiling back before he could stop himself. Archer was attractive, there was no denying that—easy on the eye. Being a shifter meant attraction for Aaron was about so much more than looks though. The way Archer smelt, all citrus and woodsy, drew him in. He inhaled deeply as Archer walked closer, the scent teasing his senses into wanting more. He was tall too, roughly the same height as Aaron, and solid-looking. Like he wouldn’t break if Aaron was a little rough with him.
And fuck no, that is so never going to happen.
He needed to stop before his wolf began to take more notice because then he’d be in serious trouble.
Aaron snapped his gaze from where it had drifted down the length of Archer’s body and met blue eyes that were narrowing sharply as Archer studied Aaron in return. “Detective Archer,” he said as Archer came to a stop in front of him.
“It’s Detective Sergeant, actually,” Archer corrected, but his smile remained.
Of course it is. I just asked for him at the bloody front desk!“Sorry,” Aaron offered.
“It’s fine, come on.” Archer gestured for him to walk, so Aaron fell in step beside him. “Oh here, you better put this on.” He held out a visitor’s lanyard, and Aaron took it, slipping it over his head. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you were trespassing and arrest you, would we?” He smirked, eyebrows raised, and Aaron was at a loss as to how to respond.
Whatever expression Aaron had made, Archer’s smirk disappeared and he sighed. “I guess it’s too soon to joke about it?”
“A bit,” Aaron managed to get out. Almost getting arrested and possibly spending time in Krillick Hall wasn’t something he found funny. Would probably never find funny. The thought of that place made him shudder, which was the whole point, he knew. They were hardly going to make prison welcoming. But the idea of being confined to a cell indoors, of having to endure the full moon run in an enclosed fenced off area made his wolf whimper.
That’s why I’m doing all this.
When they reached a door to the right of the reception area, Archer swiped a card to open it and waited for Aaron to go through first.
Another door was on the left, and curiosity overriding everything else, Aaron asked, “What’s behind the other door?”
“Stairs to our offices.”
Aaron glanced over his shoulder. “Is that all? No holding cells or anything?”
Soft laughter met his question, and there went his traitorous body reacting to it. Archer had a nice laugh, though, to be fair. All throaty and rumbly. Sexy. Aaron wished he could hear more of it, but it stopped as soon as it’s started.
“No,” Archer said. “We’re not like a normal police station. We don’t have cells or the facilities to hold people here for any length of time. We work with the Met or the City police if we need to arrest people—humans. Since our suspects are usually shifters, we have no need for cells. If we need to interrogate or detain a shifter, we take them to Krillick Hall.”
