Chapter 2 What Are You So Scared Of

With Vincent silent in front of him, Nolan felt as if he were waiting for a death sentence with a blade against his throat.

Had the commander forgotten him?

Nolan looked up, though he could barely hold Vincent's gaze.

There was no sign of recognition in Vincent's eyes.

That settled it. The commander really didn't remember him.

But how could he forget? Was he pretending?

Vincent glanced to the side before Nolan could think any further. The men beside him took the hint and moved toward Nolan.

They meant to search him. He knew it at once.

Right now, he had no way out.

Killing them would only make it harder to stay hidden.

He'd have to let them search him.

"I want..." Nolan stared at Vincent, who stood near the doorway.

Vincent held the gun at his side, his demeanor a chilling blend of gentleness and ruthlessness.

"You. I want you to search me," Nolan said again, steadier this time.

Vincent narrowed his eyes and studied him more closely.

The two men stopped short. Neither seemed to believe what Nolan had just asked.

People throughout Dwarlen feared Vincent. He was ruthless and hard to approach, and most knew to keep their distance. Now this stranger wanted Vincent to search him himself.

The commander had no reason to bother with someone like him.

That pink-haired punk must have wanted to die.

Once the men recovered and started toward him again, Nolan's eyes hardened.

He backed away until his shoulders met the corner wall. He made no effort to hide how much he wanted them to stay away.

Black boots struck the floor. Vincent came over.

The men who had been about to search Nolan stepped back behind their commander.

Nolan caught hold of the heavy curtain behind him and tried to steady his gaze as Vincent drew near.

He caught a faint smell of tobacco and gunpowder on Vincent. Danger seemed to follow him wherever he went, and it suited him.

Panic caught in Nolan's chest. His breathing grew uneven.

Vincent closed the gap one step at a time. At last, the toe of his boot nudged between Nolan's legs.

They shook.

"Have we met?" Vincent asked coldly. Nolan shuddered at the sound of his voice.

His heart pounded so hard that he wanted to press a hand against his chest.

"I... don't think so," Nolan stammered.

The oversized white shirt Nolan wore barely reached the tops of his thighs. His legs were bare, and fading purplish-red love bites marked every patch of visible skin. His wavy pink hair was mussed, and his clear eyes gave him an innocent look. There was something submissive about him, too. He looked like a little fox backed into a corner.

Vincent put a hand on his waist. Nolan flinched.

"Hold still." Vincent's face remained cold, and there was something predatory in his eyes.

His hands moved slowly over Nolan's body. Vincent searched him with a serious face and practiced care, as though the touch meant nothing beyond the job.

Then one hand slipped under Nolan's shirt.

The thin leather glove felt cold against his skin.

Nolan gasped.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," Vincent warned without sympathy.

The steady, unreadable way Vincent looked at him left Nolan shaken. He felt as if he were falling with nothing to catch him.

A gloved hand moved up Nolan's spine.

Vincent searched him by the book from start to finish. Every movement was careful and impersonal. Even so, Nolan felt as though those calm eyes could see every secret he was hiding.

When Vincent drew his hand away, he kept watching Nolan. His broad frame blocked the rest of the room from seeing Nolan in his half-dressed state.

He missed none of Nolan's panic.

Nolan still couldn't seem to draw a full breath.

Vincent moved a step closer.

Nolan quickly stepped back.

Neither looked away. Each waited for the other to give something away.

Cold window glass met Nolan's back, and he had nowhere left to go.

Vincent's brow twitched, and a hint of mockery crossed his face. Nolan felt as though Vincent could see straight through him. Vincent controlled what happened here. If he decided someone was guilty, that was enough.

"What are you so scared of?" Vincent seemed to look at Nolan properly for the first time. His manner stayed calm, and his voice was almost gentle, but Nolan flinched under his stare.

"I'm not scared..." Nolan muttered.

Pain shot through his wrist.

Vincent had seized his right hand. He spoke so quietly that Nolan found it more frightening than if he'd shouted. "Show me what you're holding."

"You already checked that hand." Nolan looked away, and his breath caught.

Vincent had caught him.

"Open it," Vincent instructed. For once, something slipped into his voice.

"There's nothing in there..." Nolan swallowed. His Adam's apple rose and fell. "Ngh..."

Vincent tightened his grip without mercy.

Pain flashed through Nolan's wrist. He thought the bones might break.

Nolan panicked. Vincent squeezed until his fingers gave way and his hand opened against his will.

A pale pink merman scale lay in his palm.

Its surface caught the light with a watery shimmer that was almost impossible to look away from.

It was a soul scale. Every member of merfolk lost it only after their first intimate union, and merfolk saw it as a symbol of purity and devotion. They were meant to give it to their one partner for life.

Nolan looked up at Vincent.

The scale belonged to this commander.

He tried to tear free and slip past Vincent.

Click.

Vincent pulled the heavy handcuffs from his belt and snapped them around Nolan's wrists. The look in his eyes made Nolan dizzy with dread.

Then Vincent took the scale from Nolan's shaking hand.

"Get him out of here," Vincent instructed.