Page 55 of Fire
Miller looked surprised. Instead of going for the seat next to Tobias, he took one over an arm’s length away.Not so brave when someone talks back, Tobias thought.
“Who said I wanted to touch you?” he said. “That Hawthorne’s seat?”
Tobias glanced at it and Jake’s half-empty beer. “Yeah.”
The hunter grabbed the beer, rolling the edge a little on the table, fingering the neck and watching Tobias. In the part of his mind that was neither running through fight-or-escape routes nor hyperventilating from fear, Tobias wondered whether Miller was trying to threaten him or turn him on.
“So, where is he?” Miller asked. “Finally decided to stake you out to catch other monsters?” He leaned forward, grinning. “Or did Hawthorne decide your ass wasn’t worth the trouble? I always thought it couldn’t live up to the hype. Never got a chance for a test ride, though. He ever loan you out?”
Tobias rolled his head slowly around his shoulders to loosen tense muscles. It had been years since he’d honestly been afraid that Jake would leave orusehim. He rarely even had nightmares about it anymore. Even so, comments like that—offered like clockwork if a hunter found him when Jake wasn’t around—still made him twitch, an old scar that didn’t so much hurt as remember the pain.
“Caught you, didn’t I?” Tobias said. “Guess I draw out the nasties.”
Miller’s lip curled. “Watch your tongue, freak, or I’ll cut it out.”
Tobias saw Jake come out of the bathroom and pause to assess the situation. Jake’s right hand slid toward the gun at the small of his back, and Tobias wished that he could give their abort signal without alerting the hunter. As it was, he didn’t want to look away from Miller’s face. The man would take advantage of any distraction.
“I don’t think Jake would be happy to hear you talking like that,” Tobias said. He pitched his voice to carry. The civilians already knew this was a hunter problem; might as well make sure they knew that Tobias wasn’t a runaway monster. “And he’s a hunter too.”
Behind him, Jake’s face changed. He looked around the bar, saw the crowd that was carefully not looking at the little drama unfolding, and slid his hand from his gun to his knife. Then he made his move.
“Hawthorne dishonors the name,” Henry Miller spat. “He’s no better than the monster he fucks.”
“Damn right.” Jakegrabbed Miller by the shoulder and rested the bare blade of his hunting knife against the other man’s neck. “I’d tell you to say that to my face, Miller, but if you turn around I’m going to sever your spine. You good, Toby?”
Jake in place, Tobias could let some of his nerves, and temper, show. “Could be better. Jake, you should show your ID to the barkeep.”
“I think he knows I’m legal, Tobias.”
“Your other ID,” Tobias corrected.
Jake understood, pretty damn fast. “Could you get it, Tobias? I’m a little occupied.”
Tobias stood, walked past Miller and behind Jake. He was very aware of all the eyes on him, the civilians that were surely terrified—of Jake, of theasshole, of him, what difference did it make? He reached into Jake’s jacket, sliding his hands up his shirt to the pocket where he kept the ASC ID. Somewhere else, Tobias might’ve kissed Jake’s neck, brushed his nose against Jake’s ear; he missed the comfort that would have brought him. Instead, still moving slowly, he withdrew the ID and held it out to the bartender.
“Jake Hawthorne is an authorized hunter with the Agency of Supernatural Control,” he said, working to look unthreatening and polite. “My name is Tobias Hawthorne, and I’m under Jake’s complete control, both practically and legally. There are papers in our car, if you need the proof.”
The barkeeper stared, first at the ID and then up into Tobias’s face. “N-n-no, that’s fine.”
Tobias nodded, still trying to look as calm and restrained as possible, even as his nerves were tight enough to break, stiff enough that it was almost painful. He didn’t mind saying it. But the way Jake reacted when Tobias referred to himself a monster—even indirectly, even just for show—hurt him more than the words ever could.
Tobias looked back to Jake. His face was stony, expressionless, and his knuckles were very white on his knife.
“Anything else, Jake?” Tobias asked.
Jake’s jaw clenched, and Tobias moved back to him, slipping the ID into Jake’s front jeans pocket, then sliding his hand over Jake’s arm, down his wrist, until he could tighten his own hand around Jake’s on the knife and pull it back just a hair.
“Please, Jake,” he whispered, then flickered his eyes around the room. “Civilians.”We don’t need anyone else getting hurt.
Jake looked at him, eyes hard and oddly blank. Then he looked away and leaned over the hunter’s shoulder.
“You want us, you piece of shit, we’ll be outside,” Jake said into his ear. “But after that, you come within fifty feet of us again, you so much assay Tobias’s name, and the knife won’t stop at your collar, you understand me?”
The hunter let go of the half-full beer, and it tipped over and sloshed over the bar and onto his leg. He licked his lips. “Yeah. I got it, Hawthorne.”
Jake stepped back. “Good. Come on, Toby.”
Tobias followed Jake closely out the door, keeping all his attention on the hunter behind them. If Miller made a move, whether to go for his gun or a knife, Tobias would put him down before Jake could, but then they would have to get the hell out, and fast.
