Page 39 of Soft Flannel Hank

“You mean it makes them compliant when you drain them dry. I saw someone being carried out of here. You—”

He cut her off with a sharp gesture of his hand in the air as he hissed, “Ye didnae see anything, Esther.”

She was panting, hauling air into and out of her lungs with great effort.

“Is this going to be a problem, Esther?” he asked, his voice a low, dangerous growl in the quiet space, where the only other sounds were gentle sucks and soft moans. “Do I need to ensure that this willnae be a problem?

But what he was really asking was “areyougoing to be a problem, Esther?”She shook her head and took a step backwards up the staircase.

“Good,” he said, his face relaxing. “Back to work, then.”

She turned to run up the stairs but stopped when he called her name, turning slightly to look at him over her shoulder.

“I expect yer discretion.”

She nodded before fleeing up the stairs.

Present

Hank looked over briefly as he sped along the road that led away from Esther’s cabin. As they drove past a lit-up marquis sign for a Presbyterian church, he could see that her eyes were closed and her head leaned back against the seat rest.

What she’d said back at the cabin had rankled him.Aren’t I innocent until proven guilty?

She was right. And in that moment, he’d remembered that as a cop, he would never have thrown someone in jail or, in this case, handed them over to a vampire with no idea as to what would be done next, without having a very clear idea of the facts of the case. Probable cause.

He might have brought her in for questioning and seen if there was enough evidence to press charges. He would have never just thrown her to the wolves.

Hank may not have been a police officer anymore, but his deep-seated sense of justice remained, stronger than ever, perhaps, now that it was unfettered by bureaucracy and politics. And now, as he drove her through the dark, he knew—heknew—thathehad no probable cause. All he had was a story from this vampire, told through Nat. Hank didn’t know Callum MacLeod.

Esther had such a presence about her normally. But now, she seemed small, like her energy had shrunk in on itself. Hank didn’t have much of a plan. He couldn’t leave her alone. He couldn’t just let her go either. He needed to talk to her first. To hear her out before making any decisions about what to do with her.

And so he found himself driving towards the beach at La Push. It was quiet and remote, or it would be tonight. When they got there, he would send Nat a text and tell him… something. He’d figure it out.

He heard Esther shift in her seat as they drove onto the reservation.

“Hank?” she said, her voice quiet.

He grunted but kept his eyes on the road.

“Why did you save me?”

“I didn’t.”

“Then what would you call this?”

“Arresting you,” he replied gruffly.

“Arresting me,” she wheezed. “But you said—”

“I know what I said,” he cut her off, but he hated the bite in his voice. He softened it deliberately. “I know. I need to get to the bottom of what happened. If you’re innocent like you say, and I’m satisfied about that, then you’re free to go. If not, I take you back and you face them like you should.”

“So you’re the law?” she said, her voice getting higher as it got louder.

“Of course not,” he gritted out.

“So, what, then? If I don’t tell a convincing enough story, you’re gonna throw me to the wolves?”

“Believe me, Esther, I’d rather throw you to the wolves a thousand times over before throwing you tothem.”