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“Lucky,” Eric murmurs. “I’ll go down and assess. You grab the backboard and C-collar just in case.”

”On it,” I say as I climb out and head for the back.

Then I stop.

There’s the strangest scent in the air. I inhale again, trying to place it. Sweet, like caramel, with an undercurrent of something sharp and slightly tart.

My mouth waters.

My stomach growls.

I desperately want to track down the source, but I’ve got a job to do.

Pushing thoughts of the alluring scent aside, I open the back of the rig and grab a backboard and C-collar before heading after Eric.

As I start down the incline, the scent I am desperately trying to ignore grows stronger.

Caramel and pear, with the faintest hint of cardamom.

Fuck. What’s that incredible smell?

I can hear Eric speaking as I approach, the scent thick in the air, sweet and sharp and curling around me until my head spins. Now that I’m closer, I can see the damage to the car. The windshield is shattered, and the front end is slightly crushed. I’d put money on the airbags not deploying because this is less car and more a MacGyvered hobby project. It’s ancient and rusted, a rolling death trap in my opinion.

“Ma’am, I need you to focus on me. I assure you the police have the situation-“

“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude,” a woman cuts in, her voice soft and slightly reserved, “but there is a wild animal out there. A massive one. Like—seriously large. I need to go get my animals.”

The distress I hear has protectiveness rising within me. I quicken my pace, some newly unearthed primal need to comfort this stranger driving me to move faster. As I step up to Eric's side, my breath hitches.

Silvery blue eyes that look everywhere except at Eric's penlight meet mine. There’s a tiredness, a loneliness that speaks to the deepest parts of my soul. Sun-warmed skin peeks out from where her hoodie has slipped down her shoulder. The material is thin and worn and, by the way she tugs at the sleeves, has a long history woven into its fabric. From where I stand next to Eric, she looks small and delicate, yet still glowing in the moonlight that spills through the beaten windshield. I have the overwhelming urge to scoop her up and comfort her.

“Ma’am,” Eric persists. “Can you focus on this light and tell me your name?” He says, showing her the pen light once more.

Before she answers, Calvin, one of the local cops, comes jogging over, something small tucked under his arm.

“Hey, Count, Eric,” he says in greeting. “Ma’am, found this little guy. Thought you might feel better holding him. Her?” He says as he hands over a massively fluffy long-eared rabbit.

The woman’s eyes fill with tears as the rabbit leaps from Calvin's arms and into her lap.

“He,” she says, voice wobbling. “Buster.” Scratching the rabbit’s head, she looks up, briefly glancing at me before focusing on Eric. “Cordelya Holland.”

Cordelya.

The name echoes through my mind in the most pleasant way, settling in my chest. I nearly sigh in pleasure.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Holland. Can you follow the light only with your eyes?”

She nods. “Have you found my cats and my dog?” She inquires of Calvin, following the light.

“Officer Burrow is currently scaling a tree where your cats have perched. Your dog is currently hanging out in the squad car. Jumped in as soon as we were out of the vehicle.”

Ms. Holland sighs in relief. “She always does that. Minna loves a car ride.”

Eric continues his assessment of her vitals with his normal professional charm. I register every one and nothing at the same time, hyper-focused on the beauty currently clutching a large cream colored bunny.

Eric’s fingers snapping in my face get my attention.

“You good, Count?”