Page 89 of Nora's Kraken

He lets out a huff of breath that might have almost been a laugh if he wasn’t so tense right now. “Blair took to the skies and started searching for you as soon as we realized Sorenson had left DC. And Cas just got back into Seattle this afternoon. He also came as soon as I called.”

I nod, chest tightening a little to know how quickly his friends sprung into action for me.

Elias pulls back, reaching up to smooth some of my hair away from my face. He shifts me slightly in his hold and accidentally jostles the place on my arm where Daniel grabbed me. I wince a little and his eyes zero in on the reaction.

Face white, he pulls his hand away immediately. “Fuck. You’re hurt. I shouldn’t have—”

He moves like he’s going to slide me off his lap, and I clutch both hands in the front of his jacket.

“Don’t. I’m fine. It’s—”

“Little siren,” he warns, voice low and serious. “If you’re about to say ‘nothing’ I—”

“—not that bad,” I finish. “I mean, yeah, it’s bad. But I’ll live.”

Jaw tight, like he’s holding back all the arguments he wants to make, Elias tugs gently at the front of my jacket. “Off. I want to see.”

Carefully, he helps me take off the jacket and the sweater I’m wearing beneath it. The tank top I’ve got on as my bottom layer leaves both my arms bare, and we both stare for a few silent seconds at the distinct set of hand-shaped bruises just starting to appear on my upper arms.

Elias’s curse is harsh, but muffled as leans his forehead into the spot between my neck and shoulder, taking a few deep breaths. When he comes back up for air, it’s impossible to miss the carefully leashed rage in his blue eyes. Not at me, never at me, and when he leans in to press a kiss on my forehead, he’s shaking slightly.

“Stay here for a minute?” he asks.

I nod, and he shifts me off his lap and onto the plush couch cushions. He gets up and walks toward the kitchen, followed shortly by the sounds of a few drawers opening and closing, and a sink running before he returns.

In his hands, he has a glass of water, a couple of pain pills, and an ice pack. He kneels on the floor in front of the couch, hands over the pills and the water, and presses the ice pack to one of my arms.

“I don’t know if this will help,” he says gruffly. “I’m not sure there’s much else you can do for bruising.”

There probably isn’t, but the cool press of the ice pack feels nice, and being tended to feels even better. I’m about to tell him that, try to soothe away some of those deep worry lines still creasing his forehead and bracketing his mouth, when his cell phone rings.

He glances at it, frowns even more deeply, and hands me the ice pack. “I should take this.”

I nod, pressing the pack to my arm and watching him cross the room to the windows and answer. He’s speaking too quietly for me to hear, but his expression hardens and he shakes his head at whatever’s being said on the other end of the line. After another minute of back and forth, he sighs in irritation and hangs up.

“I’m so sorry, Nora,” he says as he sits back down beside me. “That was Travis. He let me know the police are on their way up, and they’d like to speak with you.”

Just like that, the reality of everything that happened tonight crashes back into me.

“Have they… have they arrested Daniel?”

Elias nods. “Yes. They have him in custody.”

“Good,” I say, setting the ice pack aside and scooting to the edge of the couch.

I want to say it with courage and conviction, but the slight tremble in my voice is unmistakable, and Elias puts a hand on my knee before I can stand, face still creased in concern.

“You don’t have to do this tonight. We can—”

The sound of the elevator opening cuts off whatever he was about to say. Travis steps out first, followed by a man and woman wearing street clothes, with badges displayed on their belts.

Elias stands before I can, putting himself in front of me as he stares the officers down. One of them, a woman in her late forties with an air of authority that makes me feel like she’s probably the one in charge, steps forward and clears her throat.

“Ms. Perry,” she says, tilting her head a little to see around Elias. “My name is Geraldine Harris, and I’m a senior detective with the Seattle PD. I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened tonight with Daniel Sorenson.”

“Can’t this wait until morning?” Elias asks.

I appreciate that he’s trying to protect me, I really do, but I take a few deep breaths and concentrate on that small spot of warmth in my chest, feeling some of my reemerging panic die down. As I do, Elias glances back over his shoulder at me, and when I give him a reassuring smile, I actually mean it.

---