Hermione looked up when she saw the petite, black haired woman march up to the space in front of the silver door with the small window. She could barely hear anything over the rushing of her pulse, the blood racing through her veins, the beast threatening to burst out of her body, but she could hear words like "barbaric" and "illegal" and phrases like "open the door" and "she's my responsibility."
By the time Anita stepped inside the small room of the safe house, Hermione was crying in relief. The other woman was close enough so she could wrap her arms around Anita's legs; she hugged her lower half and pressed her face into Anita's stomach.
"Thank you, Nimir-Ra," Hermione sobbed, over and over.
"Nathaniel told me what happened," she whispered, dropping down to her knees. "Are you okay?"
She shook her head. "Someone put something in my drink... and... and it made me want to shift." She shuddered as she remembered the drug coursing through her system. "The cops shot me and brought me here before I could call the coalition's hotline." She paused and added, "Thank god, Nathaniel was coming to meet me for a drink, anyway."
"It's still in your system," Anita commented.
Hermione sniffled and nodded. Anita wasn't good at giving comfort, but Hermione didn't care; it felt so good to not be isolated in the scary room with silver walls.
"Let's get you home, okay?" Anita murmured. "Micah's in the car. We'll keep you safe until you get to the house."
The brunette nodded and pushed her matted curls back off of her face as she sat back on the floor. "Thank you," she whispered.
"You're one of ours," the other woman reminded her. "No one gets left behind."
