“HIS EYES. LOOK at his eyes,” Anthony said.
Leduc yelled, “He’s shifting. Get out of there!”
Newman dropped Bobby and let him fall to his knees and one hand. The other hand was still chained to the bed and couldn’t touch the floor. Newman went for the door, but I could tell that the heat wasn’t enough yet. Bobby was still fighting his beast, still trying to win control back. I let myself glance at the door. Anthony had her shotgun to her shoulder like she knew how to use it. Leduc had opened the cell door for Newman. He barked an order at the deputy, telling her to put the barrel through the bars, not to hold it outside them. As soon as Newman was in the open doorway, Leduc drew his sidearm and aimed it at the fallen man. They had no idea that Bobby was still fighting to stay human. They couldn’t feel it. If I left the cell, they’d just shoot him, and I couldn’t even blame them.
I went to my knees beside Bobby and spoke low. “I’m here, Bobby. I’m right here.”
His yellow leopard eyes stared at me from inches away. His voice came out as a growl. “Get out. Can’t . . . hold it.”
“Get out of there, Blake!” Leduc yelled.
“He’s still fighting not to shift,” I said, but I never looked away from those bright yellow eyes. I touched Bobby’s arm, and his power jumped from him to me. It called my own inner leopard like I knew it would, but I trusted my control. I’d played this game before on both sides of the problem. My energy made his stumble, for lack of a better word.
“Anita, get out of there!” Newman’s voice was urgent. I didn’t look at him. I knew he’d have a gun in his hand by now, too. If I stopped blocking their aim, Bobby Marchand would die.
The man kneeling beside me blinked, his human face showing that he was already losing his words, because leopards don’t think in words.
“Your name is Bobby Marchand. You live in Hanuman, Michigan.”
He stared at me, frowning, as if he knew I was talking to him but in a foreign language that he couldn’t understand.
“Come on, Bobby, I know you’re in there. Talk to me.”
“If he shifts with the door open, we will have to shoot, and friendly fire is a bitch, Blake,” Leduc said from behind me.
“Then close the door.”
“Anita, no!” Newman said.
I just kept looking into Bobby’s face and willed him to answer me. “Bobby is still in there. He’s still fighting to stay human. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Do you, Bobby?”
He gave the smallest shake of his head; it was a start. I was so happy that he’d responded that I added my jolt of joy to the energy. It jumped down my hand into him. He shivered and then gripped my arm back where I still held on to him. The energy of our beasts swirled across each other’s skin, and when he blinked at me next, I saw his eyes widen in surprise. He didn’t whisper it, more breathed it out with his lips barely moving. None of the humans at the door heard him say, “Your eyes.”
I blinked and knew that if I’d had a mirror at that moment, my own eyes wouldn’t have been human either. My eyes were the only thing that ever changed for me. To save himself, he couldn’t find his words, but to warn me of danger, to save me, he’d found his human half.
I leaned in close to him, using his body to hide my eyes from the door, because if they saw us both with inhuman eyes, I didn’t know what would happen. No, I did know: They’d shoot us both. Maybe Newman would try to save me, but Leduc would shoot first and sort it out later, and his deputy would follow his lead. I hugged Bobby, resting my face in the bend of his neck on the side opposite the door. It gave him a perfect opportunity to tear my throat out, but I could feel the heat of his beast withdrawing like we’d finally found the knob to turn the oven off. From the doorway, people were yelling just my name or demanding to know what I was doing. But in that second, I knew if I looked back at my fellow officers with leopard eyes, they’d kill us both.