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"We are the lucky ones." Parc clarified. The Sergeant came out of the back hall with Cross, and neither looked pleased. He motioned to his men to finish up and move out.
Parc also noticed the little vampire from before slipping out the front doors in full view of at least one officer. They didn’t stop him, and they didn’t talk to him, just a mutual nod which was highly suspicious. He and Zeke would look into this man in more detail later, but for now, Parc kept his gaze on his mate, the man that made this entire fiasco well worth the effort and costs.
He was particularly pleased when Officer Danny Atwater approached and handed him a card before leaving. Parc made sure their hands touched during the exchange needing the contact, although it was ever so slight. The reaction was apparent on Danny’s face, and it was gratifying for Parc.
"I would like you to call me if you think of anything else you'd like to tell me or if you remember anything important." He was rambling, and his eyes were full of questions that he did not ask.
Parc glanced at the card in his hand and then at the man standing in front of him and smiled. "Of course, Officer. I'll call you if I have anything else to add." At that moment, when it looked as if he were going to ask the question burning within him, the Sergeant broke the tension and headed for the door and ordered his men to follow.
Danny sputtered briefly, looking back and forth between Parc and the Sergeant, and then fell in step with his superior. Parc wanted to pull him back and demand his attention, but he resisted and watched Danny, the sexy officer with the lovely eyes and gorgeous ass, walk out the door.
“He’s my mate.” Parc made the statement to no one in particular.
“Who?” Cross was standing beside him.
"The blond cop that questioned me earlier. It was quite a shock." Parc explained a little further, but he was still languishing in the discovery and wanted to do many things that he could not. His wolf was not happy with the outcome of the encounter and was confused as to why they were not pursuing the handsome blond man.
“What’s your plan?” Cross asked with a smile that was more of a smirk. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but Cross also knew he would not be thwarted or kept from his Fated mate. This man belonged to him as declared by the universe, and nothing would prevent Parc from claiming what was his.
Parc showed him the business card Danny gave him with his personal number on the back. His heart quickened with the realization his mate had given him his cell number.
“That’s a good sign.” Cross agreed with Parc’s satisfied expression. “Do you want me to ask my contact for information?” Parc thought about it for a moment.
"Yes, I would appreciate it, but keep his importance out of it for now." Parc wanted information, but he didn't want too many people outside of his own Pack knowing that Officer Danny Atwater was his Fated mate. Young Danny was vulnerable until he claimed and marked him, and Parc would do everything in his power to keep him safe in the meantime.
Danny had ridden with Officer James Smythe to the raid, which turned out to be more of a walk-through with nothing found, and now he was driving Danny back to the station to complete his shift. This change in the field was short-lived and rather a waste of time as far as Danny saw it.
The complaint did not warrant that many officers. According to Smythe, this was the fifth anonymous complaint about the Zephyr Club they'd received this month. In Danny's opinion, it was looking like a pattern of harassment, and the force was complicit. But he would never voice that opinion because he hoped to get away from the desk someday and back into actual police work. Too many opinions could get a new guy like him sidelined for a very long time.
“I wonder what the issue is between the Sergeant and Cross Mercer?” Smythe stated the question Danny had asked himself as they made their way back to the station.
"What do you mean?" Danny asked, hoping he would expound. Smythe side-eyed him in that way that said he knew that he knew. "Is Mercer the manager, or does he own the place?" Danny had heard the name but wasn't clear about his position.
“Mercer and Kingsley, that tall sexy bastard behind the bar, own the club.” That caught Danny’s attention.
“He told me he was a bartender.”
"He is and much more, but he plays it all lowkey, just like everyone associated with the Zephyr Club."
"That sounds mysterious." Danny shifted in his seat nervously, not clear as to what Smythe was getting at and feeling strange discussing Parc in such a way. He felt like he owed him respect, at the very least.
“Are you from Cincinnati?” He asked off-topic.
“No, I moved here about eight months ago. I’m originally from Toledo.” Danny told him without pause.
“You still have a lot to learn about this city. It's strange at its core, and mystery seems to be a part of the culture. Keep your eyes open, and don't discount the outrageous." That sounded like good advice since Danny had already encountered several questionable things, but his superior always managed to make everything fit the normal, even if it really didn't.
"The Sergeant is also a newcomer," Smythe commented, pulling up in front of the station and parked. "He transferred from Columbus just a few months before you. He, too, has a lot to learn." Danny nodded and didn't respond but exited the vehicle and watched Smythe drive away. That was one odd conversation. Danny shook his head and went inside. He still had three hours before the end of his shift.
Once inside, he pulled the business card from his pocket and studied it for a few minutes. It was basic black and white with just the necessary information, name, and phone number.
Danny wasn't sure why he'd quickly added his personal cell number to the back of his card before handing it to Parc, but he was glad that he did. He knew in his heart that Parc would call. He wasn't sure why he was so certain, but he was. Something had passed between them, and Danny wanted to pursue it further.
Danny completed his reports and turned them in before heading home at six. He would be on nights until next week, and then the new schedule would be issued. There was a slim chance that he'd be given days or evenings. Didn't matter. He had no social life anyway. He then turned the business card over and over in his hand.
Parc Kingsley, the name made his heart speed up and breath catch. Maybe the state of his social life was about to get better. He smiled and left the station more than ready to get a few hours of sleep before he was back on duty at six that evening.
Parc found out from Cross' informant that Danny's schedule was nights, probably for the foreseeable future, considering he was new to the department, having transferred from Toledo eight months ago. He works twelve-hour shifts six to six with rotating time off. Those hours worked for Parc, given his schedule, gave them similar off time.
