Chapter 33

“You still smell like blood.”

“You need to come up with a better greeting.”

Ryan’s nose twitched. “Well, you do.”

“And yet you’re the only one to comment on it!” Aleda said, throwing up her hands. She stalked inside and threw herself down on the couch.

He frowned and followed her into his apartment, running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. She had brought that old purple backpack with her again, and had thrown it to the ground next to the couch… although there seemed to be an additional lump in the bottom. A pointy lump. Out of sheer curiosity he picked up the backpack and peeked inside. He raised his eyebrow when he saw what was inside.

“Adding to your arsenal?” Ryan asked with a smirk, holding the dagger up to the light. She shrugged. “Well,” he said, “It would explain why you smell just a little like blood. Getting up close and personal with a sucker will do that to you. Do your parents know?”

“Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “They’re completely clueless.”

“…Not as clueless as you might think,” Ryan muttered under his breath.

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m surprised they didn’t smell it,” he said in a more normal voice. “I could have sworn I was playing dummy for a sucker this morning.”

“Oh, ha ha.” Aleda said dryly, and made a face at him.

Ryan’s mouth twitched. He had to fight the grin that threatened to spread across his face. “Remind me why you’re here?” he asked. “Again?” He knelt down and tucked the dagger back into the backpack as carefully as possible. She really should have found a sheath for it. Ryan went to the hall closet and fished around for something to wrap the blade in.

“I want to hunt,” Aleda said. “And Papá won’t let me.”

“Somebody must have forgotten to tell me I was your new sherpa.”

Aleda laughed, and Ryan looked at her questioningly. “Never knew sherpas taught people how to decapitate things,” she explained.

Ryan gave her a lopsided smile and returned to the couch, having found an old pillowcase that must have belonged to the previous tenant. “Standard practice, didn’t you know?” He folded the pillowcase and wrapped it around.

Well, at least now it wouldn’t shred the remains of the backpack.

“Do your parents know you’re here?” he asked.

“They think I’m out with Nate,” Aleda told him. He stood abruptly.

“Why aren’t you?” he asked, his jaw clenching.

Aleda looked up at him curiously, and he had to remember to relax his expression. Just because her boyfriend was an idiot was no reason to treat her harshly. He forced himself to smile, or at least to resume his usual unreadable expression.

“I wanted to come hunting,” she said.

“More than you wanted to go watch the latest teen flick?” Ryan persisted, and then mentally kicked himself.

The door opened, and Talia walked in. She saw the two of them—Aleda on the couch and Ryan pacing through the living room—and smirked.

“Zeus. Little Leda,” she said, nodding to them.

Aleda groaned. “Just in time!” she said. “Your brother is acting weird.”

“Aw, again? Ryan, are you being an a*****e?”

“Just weird, this time,” Aleda supplied before he could get a word in edgewise.

“Oh, well, that’s normal,” Talia reassured her.

“Mood swings and monosyllables?”

“Totally normal.”

Ryan looked from one to another. He finally gave up and walked into the kitchen area, pulling up a chair to their little table. There was no use trying to offer his own opinion, now that the girls had gotten to chatting. They continued talking about him as if he wasn’t even there. He watched them in a half sulk, wishing that his hearing wasn’t so good that he’d be able to hear every word they said even if he went into his bedroom and pulled the pillow over his head. There was a bag of something near him on the table so he pulled it over and started munching on the contents. When he realized that it was popcorn he pushed it away from himself with a heavy sigh.

The girls kept chatting. Even the normally reserved Aleda was becoming more animated under his sister’s influence, and Ryan’s head hurt at the thought that Talia could be rubbing off on her. Not that he was at all against her teaching Aleda some of those impressive fighting tricks of hers; on the contrary, that was the point of this whole thing. Just that morning Talia had started teaching her how to decapitate a demon with her feet. Fortunately, he hadn’t been the training dummy for that particular lesson.

He just wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of Aleda turning into a babbling, foul-mouthed, laissez-faire, party-girl carbon copy of Talia. He liked her just fine the way she was.

The girls were still chatting. Ryan glanced at the clock and frowned. It was getting a bit late. He stood up from the table and grabbed his jacket off of the chair, pulling it on in what he hoped was a pointed gesture. It seemed to work. Talia glanced up at the movement and noticed the time as well.

“Whups!” she exclaimed. “It’s getting late! Come on, Little Leda, or we’ll never get a kill before you have to leave!”  …And they were out the door in less than a minute. That was his sister: she could spend hours loitering around aimlessly and then get her a*s in gear before you could tell her twice.

She drove them to the same shopping plaza they had brought Aleda to the week before. It was a little strange for Ryan, since he wasn’t used to seeing such a small hunting area more than once, but it was a good place to come. Especially for somebody as inexperienced as Aleda. They took up their usual positions, Talia going into the crowd and Ryan and Aleda ducking around the corner in wait.

Aleda turned her back to the side of the building and tucked her mother’s dagger as discretely as possible into the back of her waistband, causing Ryan to hastily move in front of her to hide her actions from any passers-by.

 “People are going to think we’re muggers,” Aleda commented.

Ryan considered, and shrugged. “If it was just me, maybe.” He leaned against the side of the building in front of her, putting his weight on his arm. “But most muggers don’t bring a girl with them.”

Aleda pouted up at him. “Is that all I am to you?” she asked. “A diversion?”

He smirked. “You are distracting,” he joked, but then saw the downcast expression on her face. Not sure if she was serious, and not particularly wanting to risk one of those ‘incidents’ to which they were so prone, he softened his tone. “Not to mention a bloody good sniper.”

“I guess I’ll buy that,” she said, her frown vanishing in an instant to be replaced by a smirk to match his own. The little wench had been putting him on after all. Suddenly she frowned. “…What is it?”

Ryan’s eyes had left her face, staring forwards at nothing the instant he felt pressure on his back. He turned as slowly as he dared, keeping Aleda shielded against the brick wall. The man in front of him was tall, only a few inches shorter than Ryan, and very well-muscled. He might not be as tall as Ryan, but he was much stockier.

He also held a knife.

Ryan had to swallow a groan. Of all the nights for him to get mugged!

“Come on, man, give up the wallet,” the man demanded, pointing the knife at Ryan. Ryan snarled at him. He didn’t have time for this. He kept his eyes on the man and pulled off his leather jacket. He didn’t want it to get damaged. Not after all these years.

“Hold this,” he requested, handing it behind him to where Aleda stood, his eyes not leaving the man in front of him. He felt her move her hand from his shoulder, to which she had been clinging in her nervousness, to take it from him.

“Quite stalling, man, cough it up!” the man demanded again.

“Hey, leave us alone!”

Oh, s**t.

“Aleda!”

She gave him a grin as she stepped around him to face the mugger. He reached for her arm to pull her back but she shrugged him off, and he saw her hand moving toward the dagger in the back of her waistband. S**t!

“You’re going to get hurt, little girl,” the man growled. “Get back behind your boyfriend.”

“No!” she said defiantly. “You get back, before I hurt you.”

“Aleda!”

“It’s okay, Ryan, I’ve got this.”

What in the bloody hell was that girl thinking!? He tried again to get a hold of her but the man was too quick, and by now he was closer. He grabbed Aleda by the arm, twisting the dagger out of her hand and pressing his own against her neck.

“Last chance!” he grated. “Or I swear to God I’ll kill this little b***h!”

Aleda struggled in his grasp, fighting the hand that was clamped around her arm. She would not give up. Ryan would have been impressed by her tenacity if he weren’t so terrified for her. Her left arm was free and, though it must have been awkward, she brought it forward and jammed her elbow into his chest. The man roared in anger and lashed out at her, stabbing his knife into her belly. He shoved her away from him and she collapsed backwards to the ground. Her hands went instinctively to her stomach. Blood was pouring from her, and she looked up at him with astonishment.

Ryan saw red.

It had been decades since he had needed to fight without his claws, but there were some things that did not need reminding. His hand shot out and he gripped the knife with his bare hand, tearing it away from the man and ignoring the deep gashes that opened up in his palm. In another instant he had gripped the man around his throat, unintentionally allowing his blood to flow into the man’s jugular. It was too close to his eyes; Ryan could see it the instant the man caught a glimpse of him for what he was. The man’s eyes widened in shock and he stopped struggling altogether. Ryan released him in disgust and he ran away into the night.

He heard a groan from near his feet.

Aleda was still on the ground, and fading fast.

“S**t! Aleda! Aleda, hold on!” he cried, falling to the ground by her side. The knife had gone into her stomach, and thick blood still flowed from the wound.

“Ryan?” she called weakly.

He pulled her sweater up to reach the wound as gently as possible, trying not to jostle her any more than necessary. He tore his claws down his arm, not caring about his shirt, not even caring how much of his own blood he spilled. All he cared about was healing her. He pulled her into his arms, supporting her head with his left while he wrapped his right arm around her stomach, holding their matching injuries as close together as he could manage.

She had lost a lot of blood. Ryan held her close and shut his eyes against the chilly sensation of life draining out of him. He finally felt the sensation cease, and when he opened his eyes again he saw her staring up at him as if he had just sprouted wings. Her stomach had healed. He offered her a small, relieved smile.

“You’re all right now,” he assured her softly, and pulled her sweater back down to cover her shivering skin. “Can you stand up?”

Her sapphire eyes wouldn’t leave his own. “I can… I can see you,” she whispered, and he thought he heard a trace of awe. He lowered his eyes, banking the fire he knew must be burning in him after such a healing.

“We should probably get back,” he said to the ground. “I’ll be needing a good meal before I’m up for hunting again.”

“What about me?” she asked.

“You’re covered in blood,” Ryan reminded her. She looked down and her eyes widened at the sight of her torn and bloodied clothing. “We need to get you out of public.” He pulled her to her feet and handed her his jacket, which had fallen to the ground in the scuffle. “Put this on.”

Aleda wrapped the far-too-large jacket around herself to cover the mess and followed Ryan towards the stores. They found Talia in the shoe store, paying much more attention to the high heels than the customers. She looked up in surprise when they greeted her, and followed them wordlessly out of the store.

“What happened?” she asked when they were safely away from the crowd.

“We got mugged,” Ryan answered wryly. “Go figure.”

“What, you suddenly can’t handle an angry human?” she asked, baffled and bewildered.

“I can. She can’t.”

“Oh, no!” Aleda cried out. “Mom’s dagger! And the backpack! I left them back there!”

Talia took one look at her, carefully covered by Ryan’s leather jacket, and nodded. “I’ll get it,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” And she jogged back to the side of the building where Aleda and Ryan had stood.

Ryan took the opportunity to look Aleda over once more, to make sure that she was fine. Aside from the blood-soaked sweater, she didn’t have a scratch on her—she looked more shocked than anything. He would have been mystified if she’d still been injured, though, considering the amount of blood he had given her. He was feeling pretty woozy. Hell, he had probably overdosed her. Judging by the way she was still staring at him with those enormous blue eyes of hers, that seemed pretty damned likely. He swallowed, trying to clear his head.

That look she was giving him was not helpful.

Talia returned with Aleda’s things and he welcomed the distraction, putting them into the car and shutting the car door behind her. When they got back, Talia pulled Aleda into her room. Ryan looked up when they finally came back out; Talia had given her one of her own sweaters to replace the ruined one, and it fit a bit more tightly than was comfortable. Aleda held out his leather jacket.

“Here,” she said. “You can have this back now. Sorry if I bled in it.”

“Quite alright,” he said. “I’ve done the same myself.”

She made a face. “Gross.”

“Same blood going through your veins right now,” he reminded her.

She glanced up at him, and the look in her eyes made his skin jump. “…I know.”

Talia ushered her out the door. Ryan found himself staring after her, dumbfounded, for several minutes, before he shook himself and went to make himself a second breakfast.