Page 44 of The Wolfing Hour
“How ironic. You’ll be going into the shower clean and coming out dirty.” He gave me an exaggerated-wink-and-lascivious-grin combo.
“Tempting.” I meant it, too. I wanted nothing more than to lather up and be this man’s personal loofah. But I needed to get the blood samples. “She said something else. Rory, I mean.”
“What?”
“That the day had finally come when Floyd declared war on you. And also, for me to keep you safe.” I muttered the last part even though I knew he’d hear me.
His smile faded. “You don’t need to keep me safe, Betty.”
“I probably will, though,” I said.
“So, was our agreement about approaching our relationship as a team just something we said?” His eyes, lit with desire a moment before, pinched until they looked like slashes. Anger set into the lines in his face.
He didn’t need this right now. I knew it, and still I pushed because he needed to understand. “It wasn’t just something we said. But Ronan, if I?—”
“If you what? If you think I’m in danger, you can just trample on our agreement? That’s not how agreements work.”
“I’m only talking about you being in grave danger, and of course I’d tell you everything. Haven’t I already been doing that?” Now I was getting angry. “But I love you, and when I love someone, I can’t just half-ass the way I feel.”
“I’m not asking you to half-ass your feelings. I’m asking you to respect mine.” He ran his hand through his hair again, and this time it stayed in place. “I’m tired, I’m worried about the people who trust me, and now I have to take time out of developing a war plan to take down Floyd so I can freak out about what you’re going to do next. You have to control your?—”
“Control my what, Ronan?” Angry? I wasirate. “Is this about me protecting you or about what’s happening to me? Is this about my demon side?”
“Did I say it was?”
We stared at each other in stony silence.
“I have to go and get blood samples from our allies to makehealcharms. I can’t stand here and argue with you.”
“Go then,” he said, sounding as angry as I felt.
“Fine.” I scooped up my phone and my bag and headed for the front door. How had such a sweet, poignant moment turned sour so quickly?
I had one foot on the porch when he called out, “Betty?”
“Yes?” I halted but didn’t turn around.
“Be careful. None of the shifters, including the rats, have seen any sign of Floyd or Mason Hartman. That’s not a good thing.”
“Got it,” I said, and walked out.
Gettingblood samples from everyone in the park was easy, though I was leaving Señora Cervantes to Ida, Trini, and Fennel.
The Melliza cousins were more accommodating than I’d anticipated, knowing what I did about the fae. They were creatures of nature and magic, and didn’t give parts of themselves easily. Cecil was likely a key factor in theircompliance. They’d connected with the pint-sized anarchist and seemed to genuinely enjoy his company.
He clipped himself into the cat car seat and chomped on half of one of the dozen lavender scones I’d purchased from the café. I was eating the other half.
“I’m going to drop you off at home so you can get started on the charms. You can have one more scone but save the rest. I promised one to Ida, and she’s going to hand out the others to the other tenants.”
Cecil flicked the tip of his purple hat toward the car mirror and chittered. He dusted crumbs off his beard and stared up at me as if expecting a response.
I knew what he was asking.
“No,shehasn’t returned. Not in the mirror or anywhere else. Unless you count that weird thing with Meredith this morning.”
His nose twitched.
“Obviously, you do count it. Me, too. If you have any solutions, I’m all ears—allsoreears.”
