“He didn’t mention anything about what I am?”
“No,” he hesitates, “but it’s not going to stay quiet for long.”
“Ugh. I didn’t… hurt you, did I?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. It’ll take more than a once-in-a-couple-thousand-years-Bloodwitch to keep me down.”
I scowl up at him. “Dude. Too fucking soon.”
He wraps his arm over my shoulders and holds me in a tight side hug. “It’s not that bad. Give it a couple months and who knows, you might actually enjoy people being scared shitless of you.”
“What, like you?”
“Exactly.” The fucker only laughs as we watch the cat dart across the path and disappear behind the Student Union. “You want any food?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can stomach anything. Maybe later.”
“You want me to stay with you?” he asks more quietly.
Yes. But if he does, I know I’ll wind up doing somethingreallystupid, like, crying in his arms or something. Nearly killing a bunch of people in a fugue state is enough stupid for one lifetime, thanks so fucking much.
“I’m good, thank you though. Brandt said he’d send me whatever research he could find, so I should probably read up on that before the Council hearing.”
At the mention of the Council, he stiffens. “Do you know when it is yet?”
“Church said he’d notify the them after I was discharged, so I assume sometime soon.”
“You’re not going by yourself, right?”
I shake my head. “No, Church and Brandt are coming with me.”
“Good. That’s good.” He nods, but doesn’t continue. When I glance up, he’s got a thousand yard stare.
“You okay?”
He sighs, and looks down with a grimace. “My father’s the Shifter King. He’s got a seat on both Councils. He’ll be there.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah.”
“So… I probably shouldn’t call him a ‘cockless fuckwit’?”
He blinks rapidly. “That would probably be ill-advised, yes.”
“Hmm. Bitchass chucklefuck?”
His lips twitch. “Accurate, but no.”
“Cumhuffing assclown?”
“Jesus Christ,” he exhales, slowly losing the battle to keep a straight face.
“How about, ‘limp-dicked ignoranus’?”
“How are you coming up with these?”
I grin at the memory even as my chest tightens. “My old boss, Eileen, held a contest for the regulars to see who could come up with the worst insults. We’d use them on asshole tourists and handsy truckers passing through and whenever a customer tried to complain, she’d tell them to fuck off and then put it on the leaderboard. Whoever came up with the insult got a free drink at the end of the month.”
