Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(50)

A new array of voices came across the radio. Officers clearing the residence. One victim. Then two.

There was no sign of the typical smile Nash wore. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly, it was a wonder it didn’t crack in two. “What the hell is going on?”

I stared out the window as the sirens sang into the usually peaceful air, urging the SUV to go faster. “I don’t know.” Something happening to one of the shooting victims could’ve been a coincidence. But two? There was no way.

Nash made the trip to the McHenry house in half the time he’d predicted, screeching to a halt outside. “You can’t come in.”

“I know. I’m going to the station.” Because I only had one priority right then—Wren.

I jumped out of the passenger side, opening the back door and grabbing Shadow’s leash. Then we were running for the station. It wasn’t far, only a matter of blocks, but the journey felt as if it took a lifetime.

Yanking open the front door, I strode inside. The officer behind the desk looked too young to be wearing a uniform.

“C-can I help you, sir?”

His hand had gone to the butt of his gun, and I realized I must’ve looked half-feral.

“He’s fine, Carl,” Abel called as he motioned me over.

I hurried to the cubicles.

Shadow went straight to Wren, nudging at her hands. Wren absentmindedly stroked the dog’s head, but it was as if she were on autopilot.

I crouched down next to her. “Wren?”

She jolted at the sound of my voice. “What are you doing here?”

I glanced at Abel, whose brows were furrowed in worry. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

The words weren’t pissed off like Wren was furious at me for suggesting that she might be human. They weren’t fragile either, like she was on the edge of breaking. It was something so much worse. They were empty. Devoid of any emotion at all.

Abel cleared his throat. “Holt, can you take Wren home?”

“I don’t need to go home,” she said evenly, but the words were too slow for her normal speech.

Shock setting in.

“I’m afraid that’s not up to you,” Abel said, letting a little authoritativeness slip into his tone. “You’re done for the day. We can talk tomorrow and see where you’re at.”

She stared up at him but didn’t say a word. It was as if she didn’t have any fight left in her at all. And that was what broke something deep inside me when I didn’t think I had anything left to break. I’d seen Wren in so many incarnations, but I’d never seen her totally and completely defeated—as if she’d given up altogether.

Wren slowly got to her feet and bent to grab her bag from a desk drawer. She didn’t bother picking up Shadow’s leash, she simply started for the front door of the station.

Abel and I shared a look, and then I hurried after Wren. I thought for sure when I snagged the bag from her shoulder that Wren would make some sort of protest, but she didn’t even flinch, she just kept walking outside and toward the parking lot.

I looped Shadow’s leash around my wrist as I dug in Wren’s bag for her keys. When she started for the driver’s door, I gently guided her to the passenger side as I beeped the locks. She made no protest, simply climbed inside.

I opened the back cab, and Shadow quickly jumped in. She moved to her owner’s side, laying her head on Wren’s shoulder. Wren didn’t react at all.

A million different curses flew through my head as I got behind the wheel and started the engine. I forced myself not to drive more than five miles over the speed limit, knowing the town was crawling with cops looking for anything out of the norm. My gaze kept pulling to the right side of the truck. To Wren.

She was pale. Too pale. And those breathtaking hazel eyes were vacant now, no green fire in them at all.

I hated everything about her demeanor but didn’t have the first idea how to fix it. All I could do was get her home. Be there for her. Show her that she wasn’t alone.

The drive to Wren’s cabin felt as if it took hours, but we finally came to a stop. I turned off the engine and hopped out, rounding the vehicle. But by the time I got to her side, she was already heading toward the house.

I let Shadow out, immediately unhooking her leash, and the dog ran after Wren, who halted in front of the door. She just stood there. Waiting.

I hurried up to the house, finding the key and sliding it into the lock. Wren slid by me as I opened the door, and I didn’t miss the way her body vibrated with phantom energy—the shock setting in deeper. Shadow let out a low whine.

Pointing to the dog bed in the living room, I motioned for Shadow to lay down. She seemed to glare at me but did as I asked.

“Let’s get you in a shower,” I said quietly. It was the only thing I could think of. If I could get Wren warm, she would be okay.

Wren didn’t fight me. Didn’t tell me to mind my own business. She just followed me to the bathroom.

I turned on the water and held my hand under the spray until it was a soothing warmth. Turning around, I studied the woman who had always owned me, body and soul. “Will you be okay?”

Wren didn’t say anything, but she did nod.

I hesitated for a moment and then headed for the door. “I’ll be right outside.”