Chapter 6

“You know,” Ethan rasped, his maltreatment by the convict meaning he didn’t even have to try for a husky tone, “If it hadn’t been for you and the bunnies—”

And then a dozen policemen burst into the clearing, weapons trained on them.

Weapons? In Britain? On the Isle of Wight? Was that even allowed? Surely there had to be something in the constitution expressly forbidding it? Wait, did Britain even have a constitution? His mind a whirl, Ethan squeaked reflexively, pleased when Logan’s arm around him tightened protectively once more.

“We caught your prisoner,” Logan snarled, nodding to the pathetic, blood-soaked heap still moaning pitifully on the ground.

The weapons, thankfully, were lowered. “Bloody hell, what did you do to him?” One of the policemen knelt by the side of the prisoner, who clung to him, apparently in gratitude for the rescue.

“It was the squirrels!” Ethan burst out. “Red squirrels! They’re vicious little buggers when they’re provoked!”