“Something’s been moved?” Pember said, taking a photograph.
“I’d say so. Let’s finish up and speak to Blake.”
Pember felt sick as the fresh air hit his nose. They’d been inside for longer than he’d realised, and the sun was already high in the sky. The angry crowd had mostly dispersed, but Johnny and Taylor were patrolling the edge of the cordon in their black wolf forms.
Pember took several breaths, ripped off his mask and pulled down the hood of his suit. He blinked rapidly, bracing a hand against the low wall next to the van. That’d been… intense.Really, reallyintense. In fact, it wasn’t until they’d left the property that he realised just how much he was holding it together.
A gentle pressure around his shoulder made him jump.
“Everything alright?” Blake said, staring down at him.
Pember swallowed and took another deep breath. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. It wasn’t until he tried to pull off the many layers of latex gloves that he noticed his hands were shaking. Badly.
“Shit,” he muttered.
Blake’s eyes softened, and he closed a gentle hand around Pember’s wrist. “It’s alright. Can I help?”
Pember bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “Thanks.”
Blake hooked a finger under the lip of the outer glove. “You did well,” he said, the words barely above a whisper. “Wallace said you held your nerve and kept your head.”
Pember huffed, a deep flush creeping up his neck as he watched Blake peel it off. Thankfully, the forensic suits were notoriously cosy, so any rogue blushes could be blamed on the wearable greenhouse.
“Thanks,” he said, eyes trailing up to Blake’s face. “I won’t lie, this job isn’t at all what I expected. I mean, on paper it is, but the reality…” The words trailed off.
Blake raised a brow. “Completely different?”
Pember nodded. “In a totally unexpectedly draining kind of way. I… It’s hard to explain. I kinda love it, but hate it at the same time.”
Blake’s mouth cracked into an unexpected grin, canines grazing his lower lip. “I think you just summed up policing.”
Pember sucked in a breath. “I have a friend in the police. Oliver. The way he talks about it… He claims he hates it, but then says it’s his calling.”
Blake’s smile widened. “Oliver’s just a mess of contradictions. Always has been.”
“You know him? Well, I mean, you work in the same building, so of course you probably know him.”
Blake huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. I used to be his sergeant. We worked the Op Sceptre case together.”
The colour drained from Pember’s face. “Y-you did? So you know about?—”
“Yes.” Blake’s fingers tightened around his wrist. “Yes, I know about what Patrick did to you, and it?—”
“It won’t!” Pember blurted out.
Blake raised an eyebrow. “Won’t what?”
“It won’t affect my ability to do the job, I promise it won’t. All that stuff last year was a mess, but I?—”
Blake held up a hand. “That wasn’t what I was suggesting. I only meant?—”
“That I might not be able to cope? That working this job might bring up…” He waved a hand as though trying to catch the words. “Some deep-buried trauma? It won’t, I swear, it won’t. I might be an omega, but I’m tougher than you think.”
Blake’s lip twitched and he levelled his eyes at Pember. “I know you can do the job, I’m only saying you should ease yourself in. You’re very new and you’re already photographing a murder scene. Look, I’ve suggested to Wallace that one of the others help him with the pathologist, and you can go back to the lab to?—”
Pember snatched his hand away. “I knew it!” he said, shaking off the last remaining glove. “You think I’m mad. Just because I ran into you in the woods, a-and grabbed the parrot and… and forced you to eat beef stew!”
Blake coughed and dropped his gaze. “I thinkValforced me to eat the stew. As for the parrot… it does my fucking head in.”
