Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,73

back.”

Wendy turned to Tinkerbelle in mild panic, but she was just grinning unhelpfully and watching them like it was some kind of show.

Fyodor raised an eyebrow, as if to ask for permission, then cupped the side of her jaw.

“I SAID FOLLOW ME. DO YOU IDIOTS WANT TO BE PUT BACK IN CUFFS?” Detective Hook shouted from the interrogation room down the hall.

Fyodor wasn’t the type of person to bend to threats. He gentled his grip to a caress and leaned down slowly, making sure not to crowd Wendy, waiting cautiously for any signs that she didn’t want this.

“Yes,” Wendy said finally, though it felt bad to have to force the word out of her throat while Curly, Nibs, and Tinkerbelle, were all watching.

As soon as he had permission, Fyodor nuzzled the side of Wendy’s forehead with his own, and pressed not one, but three quick kisses to the cheek that Ominotago had left bare. He pulled back just an inch and gazed at Wendy, eyelids low and cheeks rosy. “You call me, da?” he said breathlessly.

“Yes,” Tinkerbelle said, grabbing Wendy’s hand and dragging her limp body toward the interrogation room. “She will absolutely call you, Fyodor.”

Detective Hook was just as irate as he’d sounded from the hallway. He was standing behind his desk, pacing back and forth, but stopped to look up as Tinkerbelle and Wendy entered the room.

“We’re wasting time,” he snapped. “The longer Peter has to regroup after these attacks, the better he is at avoiding them. You should know that, Genevieve. You’re not like Wendy—you have no excuse.”

Tinkerbelle raised her chin at Detective Hook and folded her arms. “I am like Wendy, that’s the entire point. Me and Ominotago are just like Wendy because if we weren’t, she wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t have picked her.”

“That’s not the point!” Detective Hook shoved his index finger in Tinkerbelle’s face, but she didn’t flinch; she wasn’t afraid of him at all.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Hook said. “You’ve been doing this longer than she has. If Ominotago would have worked for this, I would have gone with her—she’s clearly the smartest of you lot—but she visibly hates Peter too much for it to work. You’re all just generations of the same trap for him, and both of you are going to be expired to him soon.”

“God, you’re such a dick,” Tinkerbelle spat. “I notice you’re not wearing your wedding ring anymore. Big surprise on that front.”

“Tinkerbelle, no,” Wendy gasped, thinking of all the ways Detective Hook could make them regret that.

“Tinkerbelle, YES,” she replied aggressively, putting her fists on her hips.

Detective Hook rubbed his temple and, to Wendy’s surprise, seemed to calm down. He pulled his desk chair out and settled into it. Then he tipped his head back and combed his hand through his hair, even though the gel made it stick up crazily when he’d finished. “I have daughters, you know. About your age,” he said. “And I know they only lash out for the gut like you just did when they’re scared. And you have every reason to be.

“But I’m tired. It’s late, and this is important. I know my verbal filter goes when things are on the line, but I promise you, we’ll have men at your back. Wherever Peter takes you, we’ll be tracking and following at a block’s radius. If your safety is at risk, we’ll hear it on the wires and move in, even if it means we lose him again.”

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling like he was looking at God. “Lord knows you won’t be the last girls on earth Peter can find who’re like you three.” His gaze shifted back to Wendy. “But time is lives, and who knows when he’ll find you.”

Wendy could tell he was shifting responsibility to guilt her into accepting this assignment, and she wouldn’t have it. “That’s not our fault, and it’s not our problem. Protecting children from killers is your job, not ours.”

Detective Hook let that land, then took a folder off the stack and opened it. He slid the cooperation agreement inside across the desk. “Are you going to do this, or are you going to keep wasting my time?”

“The others got to have things in exchange for accepting,” Wendy said as she pulled the paper close to look it over. “I have requests, too.”

“Fine. What do you want?”

“Preferential treatment for the boys left in Peter’s home. They need to be adopted or fostered. I don’t know how any