“Shit!” I dodged to the side as he released the arrow.
A sharp sting pricked the upper slope of my breast. A painful itch spread rapidly over the area.
I froze, fixing a disbelieving gaze on Inara’s consort. “Did you seriously just shoot me in the boob?”
Lowen lowered his bow with a guilty expression. “Oops.”
I stared at him. Oops? That’s all he had to say?
Damn right oops. A whole big barrel of oops with a “what the fuck” on top.
“I was aiming for your arm,” he explained with a shrug.
My low growl had alarm spreading over Lowen’s face.
He moved quickly, slinging his bow over his shoulder and flinging himself off the fridge as I launched myself at him.
I landed in the spot where he’d just been, my head nearly hitting the ceiling as I whirled to find him.
“Aileen, let’s think about this,” he pleaded as Connor grabbed Deborah and pulled her out of the danger zone.
Later, I’d be mad I’d lost control and needed him to step in. For now, I was too focused on revenge.
“You little asshole,” I snarled as a rumble issued from my chest.
I knew how I appeared, crouched on all fours atop the fridge. My back arched and a snarl on my face.
“It was an accident. Let’s calm down.”
My yowl climbed in volume, making my transformation into a giant, feral cat complete.
“I have to work tonight!”
Calm down, my ass. My boob felt like it was on fire.
Who was going to take me seriously if I spent the whole night playing with my chest?
No one, that’s who.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I growled, seeing Lowen eye the vent in the living room. “You’ll never make it.”
I saw the moment he chose retreat. I threw myself off the fridge at him, barely missing as he flitted out of reach.
I followed. Around the armchair. Over the back of the couch, barking my shins on the coffee table when he dove under it. Then into the entry way before he shot up to the ceiling and reversed course.
I put on a burst of speed, seeing him arrow toward the vent.
He’d have to slow to open it. That would be my chance.
He dipped. I hurtled forward. He dodged, forcing me to put on the brakes or crash face first into the wall.
By the time I recovered, he’d already reached the nearby intake vent and had one side unscrewed. He was inside before I could do anything.
A scream of frustration left me.
“I’m so sorry, Aileen. I promise I didn’t shoot you in the boob on purpose.” His voice echoed from the wall. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but this really is for your own good.”
Faint rustles came from the wall, attracting my attention. I traced their path, entranced. How difficult was it to repair drywall? Not very, right?
