* * *
Andrea had delivered Lisa to the interview room and left without a word. She stared plenty, examining every detail of Lisa’s dress and mood, but never opened her mouth. Lisa found that oddly comforting: some things never changed, and one of them was that Archians hated Mainlanders. That might be good now; perhaps the citizens would side with a Mainlander who’d grown up with them over these invading Mainlanders.
Ha, and maybe Jim would grow a spine.
The interview room was small and beige, with a wooden table and uncomfortable chairs. There was one window on the wall opposite the door, but it was too high for an escape, not that she had anywhere to go. Even without the Mainlanders, Jim would hunt her to the end of the earth.
Lisa ran her fingers over her skin and bandage. Was she still herself? The same person Jim had liked? She remembered how he’d looked at her in that pit, like she’d deliberately deceived him… like she’d crushed his last ounce of hope and all he had left was stubbornness and bitter rage.
The door cranked open and four of the intruders entered, her boyfriend in tow.
“Miss Tanner,” said the northerner with the thinning hair and prominent nose. “Your detective tells us you’re a werewolf. That true?”
Lisa sought Jim’s eyes, but he wouldn’t look at her. He was stone-faced, like he’d been at her house. She could go naked and bleeding for all he cared.
“Yes,” she said.
The leader paused, an inch from sitting. “You are?”
She nodded.
He frowned and slowly lowered himself. “You turn into a wolf?”
“White fur, four legs, tail,” she agreed. No point denying it now. Jim focussed on the empty space to her right.
“Were you bitten by a wolf?” the leader asked.
“No,” she said.
“Always been a werewolf, or is this new?”
“It’s new.”
“Right. We’ll need a moment to confer.”
As the strangers left, Lisa said, “Detective Paddington, can I have a word?”
Jim clearly wanted to follow the others, but he couldn’t ignore her request without the Mainlanders asking questions he wouldn’t want to answer. Once they were alone, he said, “What.” It wasn’t a question.
“What was I supposed to say?” she asked. “‘Hey Jim, great to see you after all these years. By the way, I think I ate a cow once; still interested in me?’”
Jim leaned on the table, eyebrows arching so high it would have been funny but for the torture in the eyes below them. “Why were you with me? To make sure I didn’t work it out?”
“That doesn’t even make sense.” Lisa leaned forward to say more, to say that she’d been with him for him – or at least for the man he should be – but Jim stepped away.
“Was there something you wanted?” he asked.
It was still too early for him to talk about his feelings, but Lisa knew Jim: asking what she wanted was his way of asking if he could help her. It was hidden behind his policeman mask, but his concern was there. If she wanted to reach him, it would be through the medium of suspects and evidence.
“I wasn’t bitten by a wolf,” she said. “It was…” Did she really want to tell him? What if he ran straight to the Mainlanders? But who else would help her? Who else was on her side?
Was Jim?
“Dom,” she said. “He… bit me once whil—” With a shock, Lisa remembered exactly what they’d been doing when Dom had bitten her. “Forget it.”
“What?” Jim asked. Was that concern in his voice? The first cracks in his mask?
Lisa grimaced. “You… really don’t want to know.”
“Ah.” The mask was back in place. “Is he a werewolf?”
“Don’t tell the others,” she said quickly. “Find Dom, ask him. If you ever loved me, do that much, please.”
Jim nodded and stepped away, eyes low. At the door, he paused to say, “I always loved you.” Then he was gone, and she was alone again.