"I'm sorry." She reaches over and squeezes my hand. I catch it and turn it over, cradling it in my rough fight-worn paws. It's like catching a little bird. Small, soft, fragile. Unmarred.
"Me too."
After a moment, she slips into my lap. My dick's already responding, but I wait to see what she'll do. Cupping my face in her hands she sets her forehead against mine. She rubs her face against mine and fuck if it doesn't feel like absolution. The tightness in my chest eases a little.
Fates, she makes me soft.
"You eat enough?" I ask brusquely, and when she nods, I order her off my lap. "Get dressed. We're going out."
She doesn't ask questions, just obeys, and I shepherd her out of my den and onto my bike.
She still doesn't ask questions, even when I pull up to the battered black storefront with a sign in red script proclaiming "Custom Tattoos." She hops off the bike and lets me guide her forward with my hand at her back.
"Guy here works on shifters. He did this." I hold up my scarred arm, the one with the full sleeve. "He does all the wolf pack's ink." I pull her sketch book out of my jacket. "We got a few hours. Figured you could draw something and get it, if you like."
Inside, I introduce her to Dick, the artist. Once she's comfortable, I excuse myself. I made it clear that she doesn't have to get anything if she doesn't want to, but if she does, I'll pay. I head outside to give her space. A tattoo's a personal thing, and I'm just a guy she's known a few days. She'll have this ink forever.
Standing on the sidewalk, I make a few calls. One to the company that leases the theater to see if I can get any leads there. The line rings and rings. Nothing. I'll see if Frangelico can make inquiries.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call. Declan doesn't even say hello, just launches in. "There's a fight tonight. Don't forget."
"I haven't forgotten. Will you be there?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
"Great. I need you to watch Kit again."
"No worries. She's no trouble."
I grit my teeth. "Actually, there might be trouble. Augustine knows I took her."
A stream of curses meets that news. "Taking from vampires. That'll get ya killed."
"I know. I'm working on it."
"You're working on getting killed?"
"No," I snarl. "I'm working on getting her free. I wanna know who leaked news that she's with me."
"Damned if I know. Probably one of the shifters ya fought, wanting to get back at ya. Ya have enemies, Grizz. And vampires know how to get information. Their spies are everywhere."
Ugh. Dead end. Declan knows nothing. "Fine. But you're gonna help me watch Kit. She's not going back to Augustine, and that's final."
Declan sighs. "Anything else?"
I tell him what I found around the truck stop and at the theater. "I need eyes on both. I'll pay. You think you can make that happen?"
"Yeah. It'll cost ya."
"That's fine. I'm good for it." I'll pass the bill on to Frangelico.
As if he can hear my thoughts, Declan says, "It's dangerous, working for the vampire king."
"I know. I wouldn't do it unless I had to." I must be crazy, offering up that bit of information. Hanging around Jordy has made me soft. More willing to reach out and make a connection. If I don't get a hold of myself, I'll be handing out friendship bracelets and getting the Stooges to braid my hair.
"I don't know what drives a shifter to partner with a vampire," Declan says carefully, "but I do know this. Vampires are dangerous, and the king-he's the most dangerous of them all. You're swimmin' in shark-infested waters, Grizz."
I sigh. "Don't I know it."
"Make sure ya don't bleed."
I kill a few more minutes making phone calls. I'm about to re-enter the shop and see what Jordy wants for lunch when the door opens and she comes out.
"You ready to go?"
"Yeah."
"Didn't want to get anything?"
With hesitant hands, she tugs down her shirt and shows me the bandage made of white gauze and tape above her left breast. She got something to cover up the mass of scars on her heart.
"Very good, Kit." I hide my disappointment that I didn't get to see it. If she wants to share, she'll share. Not my place to know, or ask. "Vamos."
Jordy
GRIZZ and I spend the day together, doing whatever we want. After a quick stop to get tacos, I tell Grizz I love his bike and he takes me on a long, meandering drive around town. His Harley circles lazily up 'A' Mountain-the mountain with the giant white A for University of Arizona-and we eat at the overlook. Afterward, he takes me to a small park and we walk a trail through the cacti, holding hands like a couple. Dinner is at a diner, where Grizz shocks the waitress with the amount of food he plows through.
"Gotta fight tonight," he tells me. "Need to fuel up."
"Is that why you took it easy today? To get ready for the fight?"
"No." He sets down his fork and cups my cheek. "I wanted to spend time with you."
I can't stop beaming at him. It's stupid and inelegant. I should play hard to get. But whenever I'm with him, it's like a light switches on. I grin and glow and feel all warm and toasty, like I've swallowed a sun.
"I like seeing you happy, Kit," he tells me.
I am happy, I want to say. But only around you.
The closer we get to nightfall, the more serious he gets. His smile slips away, fading with the light. The last rays die behind the mountains, and he stands, throwing a hundred dollar bill down on the table between the empty plates.
"Time to go."