Claiming Her Beasts (Claiming Her Beasts #1) - Dia Cole Page 0,44

need to meet Uncle Duncan back at the house by nine. We’re going with him to the cabin.”

“That’d be fun. We could go skinny dipping in the creek like we did when we were kids. Better watch for snakes.” Reed wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

The chaotic scene in front of us snared my attention. “Crap. It’s a madhouse here.” News vans and cars clogged the street in front of the police station.

Reed pulled up as close as he could to the entrance. “I can’t park here.”

“You’ll have to wait for me. If they make you move, circle the block.”

“But—”

I jumped out before he could argue. Clutching my purse to my side, I crossed the street.

It looked as if a press conference was going on. A gaggle of reporters with microphones outstretched surrounded a barrel-chested man in a police uniform.

“Chief Foster, what steps will the department take to control the Z-virus?”

“How is the department responding to reports of mobs attacking people throughout the city?”

“Is it true that soldiers from Fort Drexel shot three patients at the hospital earlier this morning?”

Oh, God. It sounded as if the city was going to hell in a handbasket. I hurried past the media circus to the twenty-foot-tall glass doors looming ahead. Pushing through one of the heavy doors, I came face-to-face with a metal detector and a bald officer blocking entry to the lobby.

The officer pointed at the conveyer belt. “Put your purse on the belt, ma’am.”

I set my purse down and watched it move under the X-ray scanner.

He waved me forward. “Step through the metal detector, please.”

I walked through.

Beep.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Could you please step to the side and empty your pockets?”

Crap. I just remembered that I’d grabbed my father’s knife and tucked it into my waistband before we’d left. Blood drained from my face. No doubt carrying a weapon into a police department was a crime.

“Ma’am.”

Sweat dripped down my neck. I pulled the insides of my pockets up so he could see they were empty. “I have a belly button ring, it probably set it off.” Hoping to distract him with a little flesh, I flipped up the bottom of Reed’s shirt. The red gem hanging from the gold ring winked under the fluorescent light.

The officer didn’t look convinced, or even mildly enticed by the sight of my abs. He grabbed a wand and waved it over my body. As the wand closed in on the small of my back, it let out a shrill noise.

“Turn around, ma’am.”

With a sinking sensation in my stomach, I complied.

The officer slowly raised the hem of my shirt.

A scream inside the lobby drew his attention.

I craned my neck around to see an older man on the ground. He was spasming and flopping in a pool of blood.

The elderly woman with him cried out, “Help. My husband’s hurt.”

“Stay here,” the officer ordered before running into the lobby.

Taking advantage of the distraction, I snatched my purse from the end of the conveyer belt and hurried after him.

A growing ring of people surrounded the man on the floor.

“What happened?”

The elderly woman wrung her hands. “I don’t know. We were waiting to file a police report and Ernest collapsed.”

The old man stilled. Blood continued to flow from his head.

I felt terrible for him and his hysterical wife, but there wasn’t anything I could do. I sidestepped the crowd and walked up to one of the glass windows near the front of the lobby.

“I’m here to bail someone out of jail,” I said to the middle-aged, curly-haired woman on the other side of the glass.

She continued staring over my shoulder at the drama unfolding behind me.

I rapped my knuckles on the glass partition to get her attention.

The woman shot me an annoyed look. “What d'ya want?”

“I’m here for Eden Walker. She was one of the protesters arrested last night.”

The woman typed something into her computer. “Her hearing hasn’t started yet.” She jabbed her finger at the closed blue doors to my left. “Court’s running behind today. Take a seat.”

Chewing on my thumbnail in frustration, I walked over to the double doors. They were locked. Through a small window in one of the doors, I could make out a hallway where a group of women wearing black-and-white striped jumpsuits stood in a long line. They were handcuffed and their feet were shackled. Several bored-looking jailers stood beside them.

I scanned the line and quickly found Eden standing over a blue-haired prisoner who was slumped against the wall. The woman’s face was pale as a bone,