"FREEZE! This is the police!"

Of course, any time a necromancer decides we're going to commit to a relationship, karma decides to rain on our statistics. I don't know why, but it's not fair.

One moment, I have one hand on the small of Cheekbones's back. I wave hello to his muscular police officer sister. I spout pleasantries about the weather. We talk for three seconds. A moment later, I am bent, winded, wheezing, and unwilling, over the hood of a police car.

The hood of this car is still super warm, and so is the afternoon sun from above. I try to catch my breath. It's harder than it sounds.

"You still alive there, necromancer?" Officer Wu asks from behind me. She eases up. "My partner didn't make the cuffs too tight?"

I experiment with my wrists. I wince. The handcuffs dig into my skin where Cheekbones's sister took stern liberty to slap them on. Seems she made them tighter than she needed to before she handed me over to her colleague.

"Is this standard police procedure?" I ask. Supernatural towns all seem to have their own rules and no consistency. "Are you two sure you're being professional and not personal right now?"

"Does this kind of thing work for you?" Officer Wu, despite all the manhandling, turns out to be pretty okay to have a conversation with. Might be because she feels sorry for my low pain tolerance. "Always rubbing authority off the wrong way, I mean."

I grunt and try to twist myself into a more comfortable angle. "This isn't rubbing authority off," I say. I try to lift my face a little higher so it's not cheek flat on metal. "You'd know it if I was."

"Listen." Wu's tone of voice only a little sympathetic. She looks much more unimpressed. "You're in a small town full of very rich people. And these very rich people don't like you. The police get an alert from one of their properties in the area? We have to take you in."

It's like trying to flirt with a brick wall. I sigh, and roll my head forward. "I haven't committed a crime. I'm innocent."

"We're pretty reasonable. You should be out after a bit of questioning."

"'Reasonable'," I repeat. "Like right now?" Right now, I am bent over a metal car and sweating buckets in this leather jacket. My wrists hurt. I'm roasting alive. How on earth do werewolves do this whole 'hotter than the centre of the earth' thing? I'm cooking on both sides like a human panini. "You consider someone getting put in handcuffs for a joke 'pretty reasonable'?"

"For the record," Wu advises, "when an officer says, 'as if you didn't make enough trouble last time', it's not an invitation to tell her, 'last time, I didn't make your brother a man yet'."

"I have poor impulse control," I say, as Wu helps me straighten up.

"I know you do," Wu says. "You became a necromancer."

"Point," I say, sucking in air. I can feel the sweat gathering at my nape and armpits. I need a haircut.

Across the lot, Cheekbones and his sister are yelling at the top of their lungs. I don't know what they're arguing about, but it seems pretty heated. It's also safe to say it's likely related to his involvement with me. From Wu's disgruntled expression, it doesn't seem like she cares to get involved. Not a part of their Pack, then.

"Out of curiousity," I say, over the high-pitched yipping of incomprehensible werewolf. Wu activates the specialized magnetism on the cuffs and sticks me to the car door. "What's your take on this whole situation?"

"I don't care for that kind of stuff." Wu glances over to the convenience store. "We get all sorts passing through here, so whatever floats your boa...t." Wu does a double-take. Then, she swears, says some choice words, and she rushes in.

Blinking, I crane my neck forward to see what's going on. Through the glass, I follow Wu as she talks to the stressed out looking clerk. Wu says something, and gestures. The clerk says something and shakes her head, and then leads her quickly to the backrooms.

Wu comes back a few minutes later, grim-faced and unsmiling. She's holding a pair of broken cuffs and looks like she wants to snap my neck in half. "Your corpse ran away, necromancer."

Half of me is proud, because Petey the great escape artist never fails. Half of me is indignant, because Petey ditched me like a prom date.

Wu reaches for the radio on her belt. I panic, visions of a firing squad filling Petey up with more holes.

"Wait. Don't call him in. He's safe. He won't hurt anyone."

Wu rests her hand on the radio. "Do you know what you're asking?"

"I know, but..."

As quickly as it arrived, her stern expression smooths out. She sighs and drops her hand. She sweeps her cap off and scratches her head before she puts it back on. With one lithe but strong arm, she twists me against the car. With one careful knock to the back of my knees, she shuts me up when I try to make a comment. "Fine. But if he's caught without the necromancer who raised him, you're be looking at a fine upwards of ten grand."

That's a lot of money I don't have. "If I find him for you, do you pay me the ten grand?"

Wu ignores me. She flips open her little book onto my back, clicking her pen.

"What're you writing?" I ask, uneasy.

"We're headed to the station," Wu says, as she dots her 'i's and crosses her 't's. "Do me a favour and stop talking." She finishes writing with a flourish and snaps the book closed.

I protest even when she opens the back of the police car and pushes me in. "Hey, but--"

Eyes glancing back, Wu puts up a hand. I shut up. Behind her, I can see Smith stalking in our direction, while Cheekbones stares, livid, at her back. Our eyes meet. His face crumbles, and he shakes his head, stricken.

"Change of plans," Smith says to Wu. "We're not going to the station anymore." Smith looks at me now, her expression dark. "We're taking you to the Alpha."