The four of us have been staring at the same double doors for twenty minutes. When I close my eyes, I can still see the paneling and handles in my mind.
Any minute now. Just be cool.
Marlow throws his hands in the air for the fifth time in two minutes. Not remotely cool. “What’s taking him so long?”
“Closing a case and turning in a police chief take time,” Wynn offers logically.
The demon grumbles under his breath while we keep watch. Iggy’s wings flap restlessly before settling again, and I wonder if Wynn can hear me grinding my teeth. The door swings open and I swear we all go still and hold our breaths. An officer steps out, barely glancing at us before heading down the steps and around the corner. No Harper. Not yet.
The Concordia authorities had taken Rowan off our hands back in his rented penthouse, my last view of him so satisfying as he was dragged away in handcuffs. Then we headed to the station to fill in the details, and Marlow, Wynn, and Iggy came to add their own stories. Then came the statements. Answering questions, then more statements. Then the waiting room, the worst part.
One by one, we were all released. Now we’re just waiting for Harper.
This could all be over soon, but I can’t quite believe that, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“The longer I’m here, the more I worry someone’s going to come out and arrest me.” Marlow suspiciously watches a second officer push through the doors and descend the steps without looking at any of us.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Wynn reminds his partner.
“Tell that to them.” Marlow’s jaw tightens as the officer disappears around the corner. “They’re the ones arresting me.”
“No one is arresting you!” Wynn hisses and then clears his throat and gives a forced smile to a cop walking in the building. Of course that makes the woman pause and wonder about the strange men worried about getting arrested. We all try to look normal and not suspicious until she finally goes inside.
The door barely has time to close before someone steps out again. There, Harper. All of us snap to attention. There’s that other shoe crashing to the ground. He looks stunned as he joins us. I knew it couldn’t be that easy.
Nobody says anything. We just watch him descend the steps and come to a stop in front of us.
“Everything okay?” Wynn asks carefully.
“Something went wrong,” Marlow decides at the same time.
“Nothing went wrong,” his boyfriend objects immediately.
Marlow shakes his head. “You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you.”
“Of course I do.” Marlow gestures broadly at Harper. “Look at him.”
Iggy, apparently done with the debate, abandons his perch on Marlow’s shoulder and glides over to land on mine instead. His small claws grip through my jacket as he settles and tilts his head at Harper.
“Maybe you should actually let him speak,” Wynn says pointedly.
All four of us turn and stare at Harper and wait.
Harper blinks, like he’s still working through whatever happened in there. Then, slowly, something in his shoulders relaxes. “Everything is okay.”
Wynn exhales so hard it’s practically a full-body event. “Oh, thank goodness.”
Marlow turns and gives Wynn a flat look. “You’re the one who told me nothing went wrong.”
“I wasn’t sure,” Wynn admits, then glances back at Harper. “If nothing’s wrong, your face didn’t get the memo.”
“That’s just his face,” Marlow says.
“Hey.” Harper’s brow furrows.
“Everything isreallyokay?” I ask, stepping closer to him.
