“Or she knows something we don’t,” Nolan murmurs, chaffing at his bare arms. Neither of us changed when Felix summoned us.
“Whatever it is, she’s dealing with it,” I assert, jogging toward my truck “Now, let’s deal with our shit. Felix, go do your ghost shit.”
“Awww, ghost shit,” Felix repeats, twisting his joined hands underneath his chin. “I feel so special.” Then poofs away before I can yell at him to get moving.
When we reach the truck, I hop up into the bed and start digging through the box. I take out mykatana, Kaleb’s long sword, and a dagger for Nolan.
“I want you to fly ahead of us, and get numbers and locations of what we’re dealing with,” I direct, handing Kaleb his sword with scabbard. “And it goes without saying, but I’m going to anyway; don’t let them see you.”
“You’re the one that has to keep reminding us you’re not an idiot, not me,” Kaleb counters with pursed lips, and Nolan snorts.
“Damn, if I had feelings, you might have hurt one of them,” I fire back with a smirk.
Kaleb rolls his eyes and puts the scabbard on, the sword resting at his hip. He then unzips the top half of his jumpsuit, tying it around his waist without encumbering his access to the sword. His wings materialize behind him and he rolls his shoulders, adjusting for the new weight on his back. We can always feel them, like a weird phantom limb-- only becoming real once reaching the material plane.
“Keep your phone handy. I’ll call you when I have information,” he instructs, his face hard as he prepares for what we’re about to do, then jumps into the air, flying toward Callie’s home.
I toss Nolan the dagger, his vampire reflexes allowing him to easily pluck it from the air. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“I recommend sticking the pointy end in the demon,” I reply, hopping out of the truck bed. “Won’t kill them, but they don’t really like it either.”
“Funny,” he mutters, climbing into the passenger side of the truck. “But seriously. I don’t know how to fight with this.”
“How have you picked up nothing watching Kaleb and me spar all these years,” I grunt, hoisting myself up onto the driver’s side, adding, “Hold this,” when I hand him my sheathedkatana.
“I get distracted easily,” he admits without shame, fumbling with the two weapons, and I catch myself before I can ‘pray for patience’at the roof of my truck.
“Don’t get cornered by a demon then,” I sigh, while putting the keys into the ignition.
Settling mykatanabetween his knees and the dagger in his lap, he replies, “Not really high on my list.”
Wasn’t for my family either.
∞∞∞
“What I don’t get is why me?” Nolan announces without preamble into the silent cab, snapping and unsnapping the button holding the dagger in its sheath. “I mean, you need me there, I’m there, but why dotheywant me?”
I sigh, because there’s only one thing I can think of that makes him stand out from the others… and it isn’t because he’s a different kind of supe.
“Probably because of how you’re connected to me. If these are the same demons that took out my family, I know they like to fuck with their prey before killing them,” I answer, glancing at him with a raised brow, while pushing down the growing tightness in my chest.
It might not be the same demons, I try to kid myself, knowing my luck isn’t that fucking good. I always planned to go after them but on my terms.I thought I had more time.
“So are the other guys, and why not Callie? Not that I want them in danger, but why single me out?” he questions, now tapping the tip of the sheathed dagger against his knee.
He can’t be this dense.
“Think about it. Think real hard,” I reply, gripping the steering wheel so tight it creeks to keep from smacking him in the back of the head.
He takes way too fucking long, but it finally clicks and he groans, “Oh come on. Seriously? We haven’t even had sex!”
“But we have fooled around,” I remind him, snorting over his outrage.
“Mutual blow jobs a relationship does not make,” he insists, flopping against the passenger door. “If that was the case, you’d be dating half of the school’s female population… and I’d be dating nearly all of it. And that doesn’t even include our school’s closeted gays, bis, and everything in between.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ve fucked your way through most of the school, congrats,” I mutter, stopping at a red light.
“All I’m saying is we aren’t a thing. I feed. You get off. I get off. Everyone’s happy,” he replies with a shrug, turning to look out the side window, the streetlight highlighting the sharp features of his face.
