A Perfect Blood. Ким Харрисон

I asked next, and Wayde’s ears went red.

      “Uh, trust me on that one,” he said, then swore under his breath as he looked at the clock on the dresser and set his hammer down.

      “It’s on his butt,” Bis volunteered. “A naked woman with a saxophone.”

      Wayde reached for his shirt and frowned at Bis. “That was privileged information.”

      Bis laughed and wheezed, and I watched him shake out a big pillow and settle on it. There was a bowl up there, too, and the shirt that Jenks had gotten him last June, right next to a vase of plastic flowers and a picture he’d once asked for of the garden. Jeez, I should’ve asked if he had what he wanted.

      “Thanks for being so nice to Bis,” I said softly, the guilt running high. He just seemed so independent.

      “Don’t worry about me, Ms. Morgan,” Bis said. “It was only scraps of wood. If I was at home, I’d be out on the roof with my parents. I don’t need all this stuff.”

      But he clearly appreciated it. He had a real space, and I couldn’t help but feel that I’d let him down. One more thing that had fallen by the wayside.

      “I think it’s turning out good,” Wayde was saying as he stuffed his shirt into his jeans. “I don’t get a chance to use my hands much.”

      “Are you cold, Ms. Morgan?” Bis said, his wings opening up. “I can warm this place up better than that heater.”

      Waving my hand for him to stay there, I shook my head. “I’m good,” I said, pushing up to my feet. “I, ah, just came to talk to Wayde for a moment.”

      Wayde hesitated. “I usually only hear that from a woman who wants to break up with me.” He faced me squarely, pulling to his full height. “What?”

      Heart pounding, I forced myself to stop fidgeting. “Don’t take this the wrong way …”

      He squinted at me, his stance becoming aggressive. “Too late. What?” he repeated.

      I took a deep breath. Why was this so hard? “HAPA is calling me out,” I said, my attention following the grain of the floor. “They’re after my blood, literally, and I wanted to ask if you needed help or anything from the FIB until we get them.”

      “You don’t think I’m good enough to keep you safe,” he said blandly, and my head came up. Damn it, I was trying to be grown up here, and he was going to get touchy.

      “No,” I insisted, but I sounded insincere even to me. “You’re great at your job. I’m not helpless, so I don’t think round-the-clock protection is needed, but I’m on HAPA’s hit list and—”

      “Let me tell you something, witch,” he said, taking a step forward and pointing at me with a stiff finger. But then he hesitated and looked at his watch. “Shit, we’re going to be late. I’ve a better idea. Let me show you something.”

      My air came in fast and I pulled away, but I was too slow, and with a gasp and a yank, I found myself caught in a submission hold, my back to Wayde’s front, held tight. “Hey!” I yelped, wiggling and finding I was really caught. Damn, he was fast. “What are you doing?”

      “We have to meet David for your appointment, and since you think I’m not good enough, I’m going to prove it to you.”

      Appointment? My tattoo? I didn’t think that was until Friday! “Prove what?” I said, my heart pounding and my breath fast. “That you’re a bully? Let me go,” I insisted, not caring so much about the damn tattoo as him thinking he could manhandle me like this.

      “You’ve been looking down on me since I got here,” he said, his words a warm breath on me. “Don’t think I can’t tell. I’m a patient man, but I’m tired of it, and if you’re going to survive, you have to trust me. You’re the kind of person that show means more then tell, so we’re going to have it out, right here, right now. You and me.”

      Is he nuts? “Wayde, this is not how to convince me you’re good at your job,” I said, trying to twist from him, but he had me firmly and my skin burned. “Let go before I hurt you!” I exclaimed, then gasped when he spun me around, sending me almost crashing into the new window.

      I found my balance and settled into a ready pose with my hands in fists. He rocked to a halt between me and the door, and I thought about his work as a bouncer, thought about those muscles covered with tattoos. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I said, spitting mad. “I said I’d get the tattoo, and I will!” If he touched me again, I was going to smack him a good one.

      Wayde crossed his arms over his chest, looking like a rock between me and the door. “This isn’t about the tattoo. I’ve been watching your back for three weeks, and you are oblivious to everything. Oblivious!” he said, waving a thick arm. “And you think I’m not capable of my job?”

      “What in hell do you want?” I said, just as mad. “A citation of merit? I didn’t ask you here, and if you can’t do your job, you need to leave!”

      His chin lifted. “That’s what I thought,” he said. “You really think I’m shit. Fine. If I get you downstairs and in your car, you stop doubting me. If I can’t, I’ll pack up and be on the next vamp flight out.”

      I thought about that, steaming in anger and feeling his fingers on me, though he was across the room. Bis’s eyes were wide as he silently watched, his tail twitching in excitement. Okay, maybe I had been harboring a sliver of doubt that he was up to it, because I eagerly settled into a fighting stance, light and balanced on my feet—and nodded. He wasn’t getting me in that car.

      Wayde looked up at Bis, who was watching with breathless anticipation. “Finally,” he said, and calmly came at me.

      I swung a foot at him, teeth clenched when it hit his offered arm with nothing to show for it. He ducked my next swing with the speed of a wolf, then dodged another kick. My eyes widened, and I backed up until I found the wall, having forgotten how fast Weres were. “Wayde!” I shrieked, but he had grabbed me around the waist and flung me over his shoulder.

      “Put me down!” I yelled, hitting his back. “Damn it, I don’t want to hurt you!” I said, jamming my elbow into the soft muscle between his neck and shoulder to no effect.

      “Whatever,” he said, having to raise his voice because the air was suddenly full of pixy kids and the draft from Bis’s wings. “Jumoke,” the Were said calmly as I wiggled and squirmed. “Go tell your dad I’m taking her in, and if he wants to go, he’d better hurry.”

      “Put me down! Wayde, I swear I’m going to smack you!” I said, though I’d smacked him a couple of times already.

      “Bis, will you get the lights?”

      “Sure!” the gargoyle said, and it went dark. I could suddenly smell Wayde all the more, his scent lifting from his canvas coat like sweet water, smelling of damp woods and moss. Why did Weres have to smell so good?

      “Hey!” I yelped when he jumped, settling me firmly on his shoulder before he started down the stairs, his boots making a harsh, hurting pace. “Let me go!” There were pixies in my hair, and I’d about had it. There were probably three ways I could get out of this, but all of them would seriously hurt him. With the loss of my magic came the loss of finesse. It was all or nothing, and I was starting to get mad at myself. God help me, I was stupid. I was relying on Wayde when one splat ball would have ended it.

      “I’ll let you go as soon as you’re in the car,” Wayde said. “Your alpha asked me to bring you to him, so shut your yap, okay?”

      “You son of a bitch!” I yelled, furious that David was in on this.

      “Like that’s a surprise?” Wayde said, laughing as he found the bottom of the stairs and waited for the pixies to open the door for him. Ivy and Jenks were nowhere to be seen, and my face burned. They knew full well what was going on, were probably willing to let us