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Authors: Dicey Grenor

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Franco was right
that I should keep quiet. They had shit.
Still fishing for
evidence.
“Do you have a question?” I said.

His cheek started
twitching. Boy. I really got under his skin. “When was the last time you saw
him?” he said through tight lips.

“Uh, I believe it
was Friday night.”
Answer only what’s asked
, I told myself.

He asked a series
of questions like when was the last time we were intimate, how did I feel about
Franco hiring Ivan, why had we broken up and if I held a grudge.

My patience had
finally waned.

“Is there a
fucking point to this? He likes to sleep nude and watch me pee, but none of
this has anything to do with his current whereabouts. You three
jackoffs
should turn this over to the real police and let
them get out there and look for him instead of being here harassing me again.”

That made him
snap.
“You smartass!
I know you had something to do
with his disappearance. Your colleague even said you had words Friday night.
See, I think you finally saw an opportunity to get back at him for cheating on
you. Now that you’re the big badass vampire you had motive, opportunity,
and
means to kill him. So where the fuck is he?”

Ming should have
kept her fish lips shut. If I managed to keep myself from jail this time, I’d
have a long talk with her about over-sharing about me.

Definitely
not the way to fit in around here.

Franco was
standing behind his desk. “That’s enough, Agent. Either you have something to
arrest Willow for or you get out of my club.”

“Forget arresting
her,” Monroe said calmly.
Uh oh.
When he
grabbed a Subway sandwich bag from a chair and shoved it at me, I had a pretty
good idea what he had in mind. “Eat,” he said.

I opened the bag
and saw a meatball sub. My stomach lurched.

“That’s your
favorite sandwich isn’t it? That’s what your mother told us. So EAT!” he
yelled.

When the hell had
he spoken to my mother? He’d been a busy ass bee. Never mind. I had a bigger
problem.

He got out a gun
from inside his jacket and pointed it at my forehead.

“I do not have to
have proof that you killed Mr. Somerset. If you don’t take a bite of this
fucking sandwich right now, I’m going to put a silver bullet through your skull
because I’ll have enough evidence to prove you’re a heartless blood-sucker.” He
cocked the hammer back. “You got five seconds.”

“Wait—you can’t
expect her to eat something
you
brought.” Franco said. “I’m
sorry,
Agent, but I don’t trust you. You’ve been too
overly-zealous to hurt Willow. How do we know that sandwich isn’t poisoned?”

Monroe snarled. “Then
have something brought from your bar.
Anything.
And
she better eat it or I’m shooting her and arresting you.”

Silence.

One way or
another, I was dying today.
At the hand of a blind man.

So
much for being at the top of the fucking food chain.

Franco picked up
his walkie-talkie and called Punch, telling him to bring a fruit cup from the
bar for me to eat. I would have loved to have seen Punch’s face when he heard
that.

Already feeling
like throwing up, I wondered how I was going to pull this off. “Can you lower
your gun, Monroe? Vampire or not, no one likes a gun pointed at them. Accidents
do happen,” I said unsteadily, knowing full well if he lowered the gun even a
half inch, I’d break a commandment and kill him. One of his
Tweedle
boys would probably take me out before I could get at them both, but at least I
wouldn’t be alone in hell today.

“If I pull this
trigger, Ms. Willow, it will not be by accident. It will be because you thought
it was best to try and kill me rather than eat food.” He raised his other hand
to support the one holding the gun.

Couldn’t get
anything past him, could I.
  

Punch came in ten
minutes later, not even blinking at the scene before him. I was glad someone
could be calm about all this. Then again, he wasn’t the one about to experience
instantaneous sickness from food in order to avoid getting a bullet between the
eyes. The food would be poisonous and debilitating to my body until it was out.
I knew this because Max had punished another bride in the same manner. It had
not been pretty. I wouldn’t die the final death from excruciating pain, but I’d
wish for death.

Come to think of
it—I may as well take the bullet ’cause sure as my name was Willow, Monroe was
going to shoot me once he saw my reaction to the fruit.

I went back to
gauging whether I could kill Monroe before he had a chance to get a fatal shot
off. Then I noticed there were only red cherries and red strawberries and red
watermelon in the cup. I mean,
really
red.

And I caught an
unmistakable delicious copper scent.

Thank you, God!

I didn’t know
whose it belonged to, but I was certain there was blood in the fruit.

 
 
 
 

Chapter 30

 

Having Punch and
Franco on my side was the best thing that could have happened. I trusted them
to take care of me, to make sure things turned out well. So far, that trust had
not been misplaced. Internet in the basement was cow’s manure compared to that.

Without another
thought, I tossed back my head and emptied the cup into my mouth.

Good thing the
pieces were cut small. They slid down my throat smoothly without me having to
do much chewing. But not so fast that I couldn’t recognize the yummy taste of
Punch’s blood.

He’d done all he
could for me. His efforts just couldn’t hold off the inevitable.

My whole
mouth—lips, cheeks, tongue, gums, and throat burned the moment fruit touched
it.
Then my chest and stomach.
Felt like my guts were
on fire…and the flames were spreading.
Rapidly.

I managed a smile,
holding my arms out like
viol
á
, I’m still standing
.

But it wasn’t
going to last. I really needed Monroe and his goons to leave ASAP.

“Agent, I think it’s
time for you and your boys to leave. Willow did everything you asked of her,”
Franco said as he stood by the door and motioned for Monroe to exit.

Monroe stood still
and I stood tense. Heat had spread up to my head and down to my toes. I was so
glad to be caramel brown at the moment. Hopefully, my complexion hid my
internal burn, my rising sickness, my bubbling poison.

Ugh…didn’t know
how much longer I’d last though.

Monroe continued
standing starkly, staring blankly with pupil-free eyes. He surprisingly had
excellent aim as the gun remained between my eyes with only the slightest
tremble.

I felt like a hot
teapot about to blow its top off and whistle in agony. And this was only the
beginning. My body would begin to protest, to expel the bits it wasn’t meant to
ingest. Any second now…

After what seemed
an eternity, Monroe snorted and put his gun away. Then he unfolded his walking
stick, straightened his tie and left with his buddies.

Sinking to the
floor, I held it together until I could hear Monroe down the hall. Didn’t want
him to hear me…

Heave.

There was no
holding back.

Involuntarily
squeezing my eyes shut, I heaved again.

Who knew fruit
soaked in blood would have bought me a little time. It had.
But
only a little.
I was out of time now.
Sick to my damn
stomach.
Heaving up red fruit.

There was frantic
movement all around me. Franco was barking orders, scrambling to contain the
mess while I was lost in pain racking my entire body.

Not sure how long
I stayed there.
Purging myself of poison.
Ruining Franco’s carpet.

When I was sure
the heaving had stopped, trembling began.
And then more
heaving.
Seemed like there was no end to it.

I wanted to yell,
to die.
Again.
For good.

Then I was lifted
and carried, the motion causing more nausea. Made me remember what it was like
to be seasick. Made me lose count of how many times I puked. When I finally
felt the cushion underneath me, I guessed I was back in my room on my bed. The
steadiness was welcomed and not a minute too soon.

An overwhelming
sense of gratitude engulfed me when my puke-soaked clothes were peeled from me.
Even more so when I was cleaned with a wet cloth and wrapped
in a sheet.
But nothing compared to the taste of fresh, uncontaminated
blood as it hit my dry mouth. The wrist smelled wild and beastly…

If I had not
already figured it was Punch saving me again, his deep growl and big, heavy
body on top of mine through the sheet would have been a giveaway. His weight
was just right in making me feel grounded and his blood was so good.
Too good.
Soothing.
Refreshing.
Felt like it was sealing up holes the poison had
created.

Then his teeth
sunk into my wrist. I felt each pull all the way to the tips of my toes and
fingers. He was sucking my blood, removing the poison.
Saving
my animated life.

Bonding me to Fire’s
man.

Ahhhh
.
Relief for me.
Pleasure for him.

I could tell he
was fighting hard to refrain himself, but it was no use. He couldn’t prevent
the hard-on or his increased pulse or breathing. Alas he gave himself over to
the pleasure, rocked against my thigh and released his tension. Remaining
still, I let him use me in gratitude for the gift he’d given me. I was too weak
to move an eyelid anyway.

But I was gaining
strength slowly. The blood transfusion was working.

He slowly
disengaged his canines from my wrist then carefully removed his wrist from my
mouth. Positioning himself next to me on the bed, he rolled me until my head
rested on his massive chest. Then he hummed—would you believe—“Twinkle Twinkle
Little Star”. I listened as his breathing and heart rate gradually slowed and
then the hand he used to stroke my hair grew still. The lullaby tapered off and
he was asleep.
Snoring.

I knew I needed to
get up.
Needed to finish my internet mission.
Needed to get him off my bed and out of my room.
But I just
didn’t have the physical strength or mental willpower.

Finally giving up
the fight against joining him in sleep, I relaxed my mind and let it go.
Napping safely in his arms after a meal was tantamount to heaven at the moment.
Especially since I wasn’t used to anyone caring so tenderly
for me.
I had done nothing to deserve this.
Nothing to
deserve his loyalty, his compassion.
Yet, I craved it.

Another tender
moment I could remember was Aaron keeping me safe from the sun even after I had
hurt him. Aaron dropping his head to my shoulder and stroking slowly when he
realized he was inside a woman for the first time. Aaron giving me a bouquet of
roses, painting willow trees, offering his diary for me to read…

My
sweet Aaron.

Thinking of him
was a great distraction while I healed. Now that I had Punch’s blood, my body
would heal itself. Thoughts of Aaron would heal my mind.

It had been an
exhaustive experience. One I would not soon forget and never ever wanted to
repeat. And as loving as my thoughts for Aaron were, I had nothing but contempt
for one determined VET agent.

Maybe it was time
to be proactive.
Time to find out where that fucker lived.
Find out who his family was. Do damage control like I did with
Rafe
and
Cin
.

Or maybe next time
I saw him, I should just kill Agent Fucking Monroe’s ass on the spot.

 
 
 
 

Chapter 31

 

I was awakened by
a disturbingly sharp object dragging down the side of my face yet instinct told
me to lie still, make no sudden moves. Throwing my senses out, I assessed the
situation, discovered I was in a heap of shit. The sharp object was a claw. The
claw belonged to a wild animal. The wild animal was not Punch because I still
lay on top of his slow-rising chest. And the wild animal was not in a friendly
mood.

Awww
fuck! It had to be Fire. Punch hadn’t locked the door.

I panicked.

But
before I could leap up, the hand attached to the claw grabbed a handful of my
hair.
One strong tug and I went flying through the air, crunching into
the concrete wall so hard I saw stars.

Then I heard the
ugliest, loudest animal war cry I’d ever heard come out of the ugliest fucking
animal I’d ever seen. The room was dark, but there was no mistaking the
humongous eyes, pointy horns, red scales on a long, thick torso…and oh,
shit—wings that were not fully extended! If I survived, I’d spend time
pondering how the fuck her big ass fit through the door of my room. Quick
guess—she transitioned to a red fire-breathing dragon
after
she caught
me
laying
up with her boyfriend.

Speaking of
fire-breathing—

“Punch!
Puuunch
!”
I screamed as I dodged the first blast aimed at me by moving in a blur towards
the door.

I had to get the
hell
outta
here. I hadn’t escaped Monroe’s bullet and
food poisoning to become a crispy critter so soon.

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