by Desiree Holt
“Pretty hot every time,” Tink said.
“What?”
“His name. It means pretty hot every time.”
“And his parents are okay with it?”
“I love their names. It identifies their personalities. More parents should allow their children to pick their own names when they reach a certain age.”
“So you like Tink? You don’t miss your real name?”
“My real name isn’t who I am. I’m Tink now. It’s who I want to be.”
“Calling yourself something else won’t change who you are inside.”
“You’re right. My actions define me. But my name reminds me what actions and choices I should make to stay who I am now.” She walked up to a door and pulled it open. “Phet’s.”
I followed her down a long hall to the last apartment on the right. She knocked briskly on the door and waited. As I stood there with her, I caught a whiff of someone’s breakfast. It smelled way too good. My stomach growled, and Tink glanced at me.
“Sorry.”
“We’ll eat after we find the boys.” She knocked again.
A second later, a young man opened the door.
“Hey, Tink,” he said sleepily.
“Let me in.” Tink didn’t wait for him to agree or open the door more. She just walked in. Ignoring the young man and me, she looked around the living room.
“You played games here?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“What did you eat?”
“Uh…pizza.”
She picked up an empty bag of chips and arched a brow at him.
“Yeah, and chips.”
“What did you drink?” she asked, looking around.
“Soda.”
“Alcohol?”
“No.”
“Damn.”
Although I wasn’t sure where Tink was going with her questioning, I agreed with her sentiment on the alcohol. The strong odor might have left a scent trail I could track.
Tink moved to join me.
“Wait,” Phet said when she stepped into the hall. “Are you saying I can drink alcohol, cuz if you say it’s okay, Mom will too.”
“No, Phet. You may not. You will, however, clean this whole apartment for your mother while she’s at work.”
With that, she led the way out the building. But she didn’t go far. Once outside, she stopped and took a slow, deep breath.
“I don’t like this. No, of course I won’t say. Yes, yes, yes. The truth will always come out.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She stopped twitching in place and gave me a puzzled look.
“People don’t just disappear. Not here. We watch out for each other. No one would do this.”
While watching her, a shadow moved further down the block. One of my followers. Disbelief hit me hard. They wouldn’t. Yet, hadn’t Cael told me just how desperate they were?
“Cael!” My shout echoed off the buildings. A moment later, Cael and his men jogged around the corner.
“You called?” he said, coming to a stop when he saw Tink a few steps behind me.
“Where are they?” I demanded.
Cael eyed me for a moment. “Where are who?”
“He doesn’t have them,” Tink said softly.
I glanced back at her and saw an uncharacteristic display of worry.
“We’ll find them,” I said.
She nodded and looked away.
“Can I have a word with you?” Cael said. “Alone?”
“Alone, but in sight,” Tink said, clearly. Without looking up, she added, “Stay at least ten feet back from them.”
“I’d prefer not to go at all,” I said, frowning.
“Just go, Rogan. I want to find the boys.”
Exhaling in annoyance, I turned and jogged toward Cael. He didn’t move toward me, and I stopped the required ten feet away.
“When are you going to stop this crap?” he asked. “You can’t stay here forever.”
“Actually, I think I can. She’s made it clear I have nowhere else to go. Unless she plans to send you into a human community and pull me out, screaming everything I know about our kind, she’ll leave me alone.”
“The Lutha doesn’t respond well to threats.”
“Good thing I’m not threatening her then. I’m giving her my word. I’m done running, and I refuse to fall in line with that sadistic, power-obsessed bitch. In fact, I’m done with all of it. You want to cut ties from me? Perfect. I cut ties with you.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. When the moon comes and you need to run, you’ll come back.”
“No. I’ve run long enough.”
I turned my back on him and started toward Tink. When her focus shifted from just over my shoulder to me, I knew Cael and his men had left.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “We have two boys to find.”
She smiled slightly and reached out to twine her fingers through mine. The feel of her hand tugged at me.
“I like you, Rogan.”
She was an odd one. No way to deny that. But…
“I like you too, Tink.”
We’d only walked a few steps when she released my hand. It didn’t bother me. As crazy as she seemed, she was also kind. And, for me, her kindness was outshining the crazy.
TINK
I couldn’t believe I’d just held his hand. What was I thinking? I hadn’t showered.
Dwell on the past to learn from mistakes, but don’t live in it.
“I know better. Stop lecturing me.”
Touching him hadn’t been an impulse, though. What he’d said about cutting ties had resonated with me. I’d cut ties with my old life years ago and knew what it meant and how hard it would be on him. But, I’d also known something inside him had changed. When I’d licked him the night before last, it had been for more than just a taste of him. I’d wanted to know who he was inside. The conflict he’d felt then had been absent in his touch now. He wholly wanted to stay here, and he truly did like me, the crazy, small woman who protected this neighborhood.
If I’d been drawn to him before, I was immeasurably so now. I glanced at him, and my pulse jumped. His handsome, rugged features and temptingly mesmerizing eyes begged for more touching. I swallowed hard.
“What now?” he asked, watching me in return.
“First we find the boys. Then, we talk about the future.” My stomach twisted happily at the prospect.
He nodded and glanced around.
“Any idea where they might have gone?”
I eyed the slowly awakening streets. This was my home. I knew every building and resident. If anyone had seen anything, they would have come to me. When the boys had left, they would have gone the way we’d come. But, there’d been nothing along the way.
An empty can rattled on the ground, the noise coming from the side alley. In this area, the streets weren’t littered. They weren’t scrubbed clean by any means, but the residents picked up their trash.
The out of place sound of the can drew me to the opening of the alley. The dumpster lid was open, and a trash bag partially spilled on the ground. The sole of a shoe peeked out from the other side of the dumpster.
I ran and crouched down beside Will’s crumpled form. His eyes were closed, and his head bloody.
“He’s breathing,” Rogan said. “So is Denz.”
I glanced at Denz, seeing the blood on his head, too. Someone had hit them with something.
An arm’s length section of heavy pipe lay on the other side of the alley.
“Rogan, go back to Phet’s and have him call an ambulance.”
He took off running. I waited until he rounded the corner to go to the pipe. Lifting it, I licked the non-bloody end. A familiar taste coated my tongue. Anger pooled in my stomach.
Lose control, lose power.
I wouldn’t lose control. I knew what I needed to do. Taking the pipe, I stepped from the alley just as Rogan emerged.
“Tink, you shouldn’t have touched that. The police will want—”
“Quiet,” I said, looking at him. “The police will not know it was here.”
He glanced at the people coming from the building. Paula met my gaze, looked at the pipe, then ran into the alley.
“I’ll wait with them,” she said. “Go, Tink. Take care of it.”
I nodded to the woman, turned on my heel, and started walking. Rogan jogged to catch up with me.
“What are you taking care of?”
“I know who hurt Will and Denz.”
“So?”
“It was a message, and I need to reply.” He glanced at the pipe in my hand. “Rogan, no matter what, I need your word that you will not interfere. If you can’t give it, you need to go back now.”
ROGAN
The feel of her palm still lingered on mine, and I closed my fist around it. Even if I would have wanted to go back, I couldn’t.
“You have my word.” I wouldn’t interfere, but I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her either, not after her comment about the future.
My nature craved companionship, which is why my kind lived in large communities. But I’d run from that, and I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it until I’d come here. I wanted to belong, but not to my past. Cutting ties meant I could do what I wanted. And what I wanted was a crazy human who dressed like a librarian. Excitement coursed through me. Tink and me. I struggled not to grin. My dreams the last few nights proved just how much and in what way I wanted her. Only, now I’d be able to touch her the way I wanted. My stride became a little painful, and I had to redirect my thoughts.
“You sure none of those people back there will mention you walking away with the attacker’s weapon?”
“I’m sure.”
We left her neighborhood, walking toward Sixth Street. A heavy feeling settled into my stomach.
“Tink, I don’t think—”
“Shh,” she said softly without pausing her walk.
I smelled the man before I saw him. Just as Tink stepped toward the next corner, he stepped from behind the building. His hands were up, extended to grab Tink. Before I could move, she ducked slightly and brought the pipe up. The metal collided with his ribs just under his right arm. He gave a grunting gasp and fell to his knees.
She patted his head and kept walking. I hesitated, my gaze bouncing between her and the man.
“Keep your word, Rogan,” she said quietly.
Exhaling and ignoring the goosebumps on my arms, I hurried after her. At the next block, a younger man waited. Leaned languishingly against the building with his arms crossed and a gun held loosely in his hand, he seemed a greater threat than the last one.
Tink’ steps never faltered. When the youth straightened and started to lift the gun, my heart gave a heavy thump.
“Did he tell you I licked the bone?” Tink asked. “It was delicious.”
The kid’s face went from blank confidence to what-the-fuck. It was enough of a distraction for Tink to get close and swing the pipe again. This time, she caught the kid’s hand. The gun clattered to the ground, and he cried out and cradled his damaged hand to his chest.
“You’re on the wrong side. It’s not too late to switch. Come see me tomorrow.” Tink gently brushed a tear from the kid’s cheek then kept walking.
We reached the building across the street without any other trouble. The dim interior didn’t give me any feeling of comfort.
“Come out, come out,” Tink sang, as she walked the hall toward the back of the building. She stopped at a door midway, and knocked.
She had a bloody pipe in her hand and was knocking?
“Come in,” someone called.
Tink opened the door and stepped in. I was right behind her.
Zepher sat in a chair, his mouth gagged and hands tied. Bruises covered his face. His eyes rolled listlessly in his head until they found Tink, who’d stopped a few steps inside the apartment.
“I failed you,” she said, looking at Zepher.
My gaze went to the two standing behind him. I recognized the one with his arm in a cast beyond his elbow. Bull, the boy Tink had faced two nights ago. In his good hand, he had a gun aimed at his cousin’s head.
Tink heaved a sigh.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. Again.”
Her words sent a lead ball to my stomach, and the next few moments stretched like minutes.
As my attention shifted to Tink, she jumped toward the men. The back of her coat billowed behind her comically, but her attack was anything but funny. Bull pulled the gun from his cousin’s head to point at Tink while the other man moved to block Tink.
Despite my promise, I also moved. But, not fast enough. Arm still rising, Bull pulled the trigger. The shot echoed in the room, and plaster sprinkled down from the wall behind me as Tink brought her lifted fist down on the man’s temple. The man fell to the ground. She turned to Bull, who was moving the gun again. In a blink, she had his hand twisted under his chin and set her finger on his.
“You hurt my family.”
His expression went from rage to fear as the gun echoed again. Gore flew upward and outward, spattering the room and the three of us.
Bull joined his friend on the floor, and Tink leaned in to remove Zepher’s gag.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she said, hugging him close. “I couldn’t let his actions continue.”
Zepher put his head on Tink’s bloody shoulder. “I know. Thank you for coming and—”
When his voice broke, he didn’t bother trying to continue.
“Should I call the police now?” someone asked behind us.
“Yes. We’re leaving,” Tink said as she looked back at the man. Then, she turned back to Zepher and untied his right hand. “Do you have any questions?”
He shook his head.
“Nah. I knocked him out, and Bull shot himself for what he did to me. You better run.”
“We’ll back that up,” the man in the hall said.
Tink kissed Zepher’s bloody cheek then turned and walked out of the apartment. I followed her, studying the way she nodded at the people she passed and the way they watched her. She protected these people, kept their secrets, and they kept hers. They trusted her completely.
I knew what I had to do.
Seven
TINK
We’d only made it a block when Rogan’s harassers stepped out from behind a building. The leader eyed us both with a frown.
“Rogan, if you had any part in killing a human—”
“He had no part. I made sure of it.”
Those who challenge your authority must be brought in line or killed.
I shook the voice from my head. I’d dealt with Bull and trusted those who lived in Zepher’s building. However, Rogan and I needed to get home before police started cruising the area.
“Now, go away,” I said.
The three men continued to stand there.
“Why did you kill someone?” the leader asked, eyeing me.
“Why did you choose to wear that awful sweater?” I asked. “We do what we do.”
His gaze narrowed on me, and I grinned. He and his friends didn’t scare me. Not in the least. They didn’t know me or what I could do.
“Tink,” Rogan said softly, “perhaps you shouldn’t—”
“Shh,” I said softly, not taking my eyes from the men facing us.
Keep those who question your authority close.
“I know, I know. Why do you think he’s here?”
Rogan shifted slightly at my side, and I reached out to pat his arm. He was worried about me. I couldn’t deny how much I liked that. So much that I was considering not using bleach when I went home to wash off the blood.
“Rogan, it’s time to come home. This isn’t the place for you,” the man said.
Letting my arm fall to my side, I focused on the three men. I didn’t like that they were still there.
“He is home. You have nothi
ng he wants.”
Sirens sounded in the distance. I took Rogan’s hand and started forward. The leader stared at me, unmoving.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing and the choice you’re making. Let him go. I’m trying to help you.”
Everyone has one pivotal moment in their life, a moment where the decision they make will direct the course of their existence. You won’t know the moment until it’s passed. So treat every moment and every decision like that is the one pivotal moment.
“There’s never just one pivotal moment. It’s a series of them, like branches on a very old, gnarled tree. This is my choice.”
Rogan’s hand clasped mine comfortingly as he strode beside me. The leader shook his head, turned, and walked away.
For good or bad, I’d chosen. I would have Rogan…if he would have me. Now, we just needed to get home to talk about it.
Rogan’s concern grew with each step. I knew what he was thinking. He’d just witnessed me kill someone. He thought I was crazy and needed his protection from the men following him and the people who had sent those men. But, under all his worry and his heartfelt desire to keep me safe, his feelings for me were unrestrained. He truly liked me. If he wasn’t so conflicted about the possibility of seeing me hurt just by being with me, his like could easily turn into love.
I desperately wanted to be with someone who loved me. The real me. The partially crazy, voice-in-her-head me. However, the desire to be loved didn’t cloud or sway my opinion of Rogan or my feelings for him. He was everything I hadn’t realized I was waiting for. Big, strong, and aggressive was overrated. Slightly pensive, considerate of others, and unyielding in his protection of those for whom he cares were far superior qualities.
Rogan had proven he would stand beside me through anything. Now I needed to prove that I was the right choice for him…when he was ready.
After we reached the apartment building, I led the way upstairs then waited until he entered before closing the door.
He raised his brow in question. I had my excuse ready.
“My door is always open for those who need help. But, I don’t want to scare the young ones until we’ve had a chance to clean up.”