Page 96 of If I Were Wind

“I’m the one who asks the questions.” His fingers tightened on my waist.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears when the checkpoints of the border swept into view. Police cars were scattered around. Officers roamed the area. No one was shooting, but the situation was far from quiet.

I glanced outside to see if Roy was close. Connor’s car was nowhere to be seen. Even Traube’s car had disappeared. Next to an ambulance, a blanket covered a body on a stretcher, bright blood staining the fabric. The air rushed out of my lungs. Someone had died. Please, not Roy.

Lukas followed my gaze. “Someone you know?”

I pressed my lips hard.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I doubt it’s Roy.” He rubbed his chest, wincing. “I’d feel it.”

Of course. Despite my attempts at remaining stern, my mouth hung open. The bond between Roy and Lukas was strong and active. That was why Roy felt sick, especially here where Lukas was close. The broken bond urged Roy to join his brother. He must have known then that his brother was in Venlo.

The car slowed down at the checkpoint. I contracted my muscles, ready to fling myself out of the vehicle or to shout for help. But the Mercedes didn’t stop. It went through the checkpoint without being questioned or challenged. A nod from the officer, a wave from the driver, and it was done.

Sod it. Climbing over Lukas, I aimed for the car door on his side, since the one at my side was locked. The handle gave in under my fingers, and the door opened an inch.

“Help,” I yelled at the top of my lungs before Lukas grabbed me and slammed the door shut.

He crushed my wrists in the hard grip of his fingers. “Do that again and I’ll shoot you here. Understood?”

“Then do it. Shoot me.” I struggled hard enough to free my hand and slap him.

He didn’t flinch. His face was so close to mine that if he moved half an inch, our lips would meet. The thought soured my mouth. Even my beast recoiled.

“Be quiet. We’ll have plenty of time to talk.” Holding my wrists with one hand, he produced something from his pocket.

“What is it?” I jerked and tried to hit him with my knees and legs, but he pinned me down without a drop of sweat.

The noise of tinkling glass came, then he pressed a handkerchief over my face, and oblivion dragged me down.

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