His voice was small and thin when he asked, “Who are you?”
“The one who had to break the window open to save that little girl,” Broxen growled and bent toward the man. “And maybe I’m not done breaking things tonight.”
“Hold on, please,” the captain said, hands raised. “Hasn’t enough happened here tonight?”
“Just having a chat,” Broxen said without looking away from Mr. Jensen. “He was about to apologize.”
“I-I will do no such thing,” Mr. Jensen stammered, lifting his chin, “especially not to—”
Broxen’s hand darted out, catching a fistful of the man’s coat. He lifted Mr. Jensen off the ground with one arm until the man’s feet were dangling more than a foot in the air. Broxen’s gums throbbed, and he felt his fangs extend, reflexively preparing to be turned upon his prey.
The vakalgis screamed, grabbing Broxen’s arms with both hands. “Call the police! This is a-assault! Get him off me!”
A gentle hand settled on Broxen’s back, and he saw Gabriela lean toward him from his peripheral vision.
“Mason, put him down,” she urged softly.
He clenched his jaw and bared his teeth, tightening his grip on the man’s jacket. “There’s something he needs to say first.”
Several of the firefighters had gathered around, looking on with uncertainty. Broxen felt something he hadn’t felt in a long while—the rush of energy that preceded a fight. He used to love that feeling, used to thrill in it. But he didn’t want it now. He wanted this filth to apologize to his mate so he could take her and Ana home and get them warm.
“He will,” Gabriela said with utter confidence.
Broxen grunted, glared at Mr. Jensen for a couple more seconds, and dropped the man onto his feet.
Mr. Jensen staggered backward, bumping into the door of his car—likely the only thing that kept the vakalgis upright. With large, rounded eyes, he looked to the firefighters. “Aren’t you idiots going to do anything?”
The captain’s eyebrows fell low, and he shook his head. “No. No, I don’t think so.”
“That man put his hands on me! He threatened me!”
“I didn’t see anything,” one of the other firefighters said with a shrug.
Mr. Jensen reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a phone, fumbling to unlock it with shaking hands. “I’m calling the police. He’s spending the night in a cell, and the rest of you are going to have formal complaints filed against you!”
“Put the phone away,” Gabriela said.
“I don’t take orders from you,” the man sneered.
“Put the phone away, or I promise that I will take you to court over that window. You put my child’s life in direct danger with your negligence.”
Impossibly, Mr. Jensen’s skin paled further. “You don’t have any proof about the damned window.”
“I have the e-mails I sent you. The dates are all there.”
“She’s not even hurt,” the man said. There was fear in his eyes, an unmistakable gleam that was common throughout so many of the universe’s species.
“Burned hand, smoke inhalation,” said the captain. “A few more minutes…”
Broxen’s chest constricted. He wasn’t the best at picking up the meanings humans were so fond of implying, but that one was simple. A few more minutes, and there’d be no more Ana.
“Put the phone away,” Gabriela said. Her voice was calm, even, and cold.
Trembling, Mr. Jensen obeyed.
“Did you have something to say?” she asked.
“I…I’m…”
“What’s that?” Broxen demanded, leaning forward.
“Sorry! I’m sorry!” Looking to the firefighters for help that wasn’t going to come, Mr. Jensen spun around, yanked his car door open, and leapt into the driver’s seat, nearly closing the door on his foot.
Several of the firefighters chuckled.
In that moment, all the tension fled Gabriela, and Broxen could tell immediately by the way her posture changed that she was on the verge of collapse. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her against him. Her entire body trembled.
She leaned against him and let out a shaky breath.
The captain stepped closer to Gabriela, shaking his head. “Listen, Miss Romero, it’s going to be a little while before the official investigation is done, but…for what it’s worth, this wasn’t your fault. There are always fires like this around this time of year. Usually faulty lights on Christmas trees or bad surge protectors. You did everything right. You got your daughter out of there, and you’re both safe. That’s all that matters.”
Gabriela nodded. “Thank you, Captain.”
“Do…you have anywhere to go?” His eyes briefly flicked to Broxen. “Someone to stay with?”
“I…”
“With me,” Broxen said. “They will stay with me.”
Under my protection.
Gabriela gasped and looked up at him.