Page 75 of If I Were Wind

His pupils dilated, and a surprised look scrunched up his face, as if someone had thrown a bucket of icy water over his head. “I used the phone,” he said in a flat tone.

I laughed, but he didn’t join in. In fact, his facial muscles contracted in pain. “Excuse me? What did you say?”

“I used the phone,” he repeated, scrunching up his face and paling.

“Are you serious?”

He nodded.

A tingle started in my chest. “For what reason did you use the phone?”

“To call Traube in Berlin and tell him that the bomb has been a success.” Each word came out with a slur. He was forcing himself to speak, or maybe he was battling against himself to not speak.

My gasp ripped the silence that followed his declaration. His mouth twitched in a snarl as he realised what he’d just said.

“You put that bomb in the mill?” I said, the air flushing out of my lungs with the shock.

“Yes,” he gritted out.

“Why?”

“The empire is dead. It’s cracking like old paint. Soon, it’ll crumble. Germany is the future. Germans are assembling the most powerful army in the world. On which side do you think it’s wise to stay? I don’t want to fight for those who will lose the next war.”

“Wise? This is madness. You killed people for no reason. You almost killed Roy.”

“We’re going to lose our power, our positions. A new empire must rise. Everything must change, for things to remain the same.” He clenched his fists and pressed them to his thighs, as if he wanted to punish himself for talking.

“You’re nothing but a murderer.”

He rose quickly enough to knock his chair backward. Fear slashed through me as I scolded myself for having provoked him instead of hitting him in the head. In a blur of dark clothes, he raced out of the room, disappearing in the dimly lit corridor. It took me a moment to stand up and chase him. I blamed the shock and the fatigue.

“Alarm,” I cried out, bumping against a hard body after I crossed the threshold of the office.

“Slow down, girl.” Bruce took my shoulders. “What’s the matter?”

Standing next to him, Michael frowned. “Are you all right, Kristin? You’re awfully pale.”

“Nathan. He’s just confessed to having put the bomb in the mill and then he ran away.” I pointed in the general direction of the corridor towards the stairs.

Thank goodness they didn’t ask further questions, like how the heck did he confess? Or what the hell are you talking about? Because I had no answers.

Bruce leapt and merged with Michael in their usually smooth way. Fur and claws flashed in my vision. Roaring, their tiger rushed along the corridor, leaving behind the shredded pieces of their uniforms. I went to follow them when a familiar voice stopped me.

“What’s happening?” Roy came out of his room. His shirtsleeves were rolled up above the elbows, exposing the tendons in his arms, and his waistcoat was half unbuttoned.

“Nathan. He’s the bomber. He’s escaping.” Shorter, more effective version.

“Are you hurt?” He peered at my face.

“No.” I circled my midsection with my arms.

Relief flooded his face. “Go tell Murphy.” His panther replaced him where he stood faster than I could draw in my next breath. Ribbons of his dark-blue waistcoat and white shirt fluttered to the floor while the panther raced behind Nathan. His claws left ruts on the marble floor, and I fleetingly wondered what they could do to a human’s flesh.

Sprinting towards the other side of the corridor, I barged into Murphy’s office without knocking. He was sitting at his desk but shoved to his feet when I entered.

“What’s the—”

“Nathan is escaping. He’s the bomber.”

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