Chapter 6: Temper, Temper

I was standing in my bathroom looking in the cabinet for gauze and tape. It was now about 3:30 in the morning and I left “Wade” out on the couch. I had disappeared into my room after we agreed to work together. I was still surprised with myself that I had even agreed but it was a little too late for that.

After about a half hour of pacing in my room Wade had knocked (thankfully) asking for help with dressed a wound he had received from his uncle’s men. Wounds from silver were very hard for Lycan’s to heal. They must have figured they would slow him down, obviously it didn’t work.

Now here I was looking to see what I had to help with this wound on his back. I frowned and grabbed the gauze and the medical tape and peroxide. I grabbed some antibiotic cream as well; I figured every little bit would help.

I grabbed the supplies in my arms, pushing the bathroom door open with my foot and walking out into the living room. He was there on the couch; he was now shirtless, and he was drinking from my bottle.

“You could have asked me if you could have a drink and as a nice person I would have said yes, but drinking right from the bottle without asking, a little rude.” I said as I walked toward him putting all the supplies near the side table I had by the couch.

He looked up at me quizzically still holding the bottle “Please do not tell me you are one of those people who hate fun.”

I walked over to him and snatched the bottle from his hand and drinking the rest of the bottle in one gulp. It was a lot, I felt it hit my stomach hard and splash warm through my body. On the one hand it was stupid, and I would probably regret it, especially with that stuff.

“You know, I didn’t know that they even sell this to humans.” He said with a shrug and smile as if he didn’t care that I drank the rest.

“I know a guy.” Is all I say as I take the bottle over to the sink rinsing out the bottle and leaving it on the counter.

“A guy who brings you witches mead?”

I didn’t answer. I walked over to where he was sitting and grabbed the peroxide pouring it onto a cloth and sticking it on his back but not before seeing the gash that was there. It was puckered and red and very open “You sure you don’t want me to try and do some stitches?”

He hung his head “Nice Segway. I do not wany stitches. It will heal eventually; I just need you to clean it before any infection can get in.”

I lifted the cloth and looked at the gash again. I wasn’t going to push him. “Fine, but I am telling you it looks like shit.”

He snorted “Thanks.”

I say nothing and press the cloth onto his back harder, if it pains him to have there, he makes no move to show it and press again before taking the cloth off and starting to rub the cream on his back, she tried not to notice how his muscles felt beneath her fingers, how they flexed as she moved her hand as if responding to her touch. She shook her head to snap herself out of it and pressed the large gauze on the gash and taping it there before moving and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. I could feel my face flushing and it wasn't just the booze

“What should our first move be?” I say to him, I cross my arms over my chest and look at him in the eyes avoiding looking anywhere else.

He cocks his head from side to side, not moving to put on a shirt. “I am not sure.”

“Well, if you didn’t do it, that means that someone else did. We need to find out who it is. I told Ronan I would have you back to him in five days. That’s how long we have.”

He nodded and ran a calloused hand through his hair “I think I know where to start, there’s a bar in midtown, it caters to Lycan’s. If there have been any whispers, Lonnie, he will know. He is a bartender there.”

I looked at him nodding my head along in agreement, it seemed to be as good a place to start as any. “Okay, so I will go and stake out the bar and see what I can gage.”

He raised an eyebrow “What do you think I will be doing?

I raised one right back “If you are smart? Hiding out here.”

He was shaking his head before I even finished my sentence. “What makes you think they would talk to you? This is a Lycan hang out.”

“And you are wanted. Ronan is looking for you, it’s not like I am the only one that he sent. So, what will you do when they all rush you?” I say starting to feel heat color my cheeks

“What will you do when they rip you to shreds? I must tell you, that little cross bow you have. Isn’t going to do sh*t.”

I glare at him and stand “Fine what would you like me to do exactly? Sit there and smile while you go in and get yourself kidnapped?”

He stands as well crossing his arms over that damn muscled chest of his “Oh I didn’t realize you cared so much.” As he finished, he moved a little closer to me and I took an involuntary step back.

I shook my head and took the step toward him. Even with his green eyes blazing, I was not afraid of him, and I was not going to let him think that I was. “Don’t flatter yourself, if you get kidnapped by one of those guys then I don’t get paid.”

He looks around “Clearly you need it.”

I glare at him and pick up the crossbow that has been on the table since we got back here. Instead of being afraid like a normal person he started laughing.

I sighed in defeat. This guy was impossible. I put it down and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to at least look menacing but I was pretty sure I could come at him with a double-edged samurai sword made of silver and that still wouldn’t make him afraid.

“Are you quite finished?” I say to him trying to now sound bored with the whole thing when I could feel my insides raging.

He shook his head still smiling before picking up his shirt and sweatshirt and sliding them on. “Meet me tomorrow at 6 outside the bar. It’s called silver bullet.”

“One, that is stupid, two, do you really think leaving is wise?”

He looked at me and shrugged “As much as I would love to stay here and fight with you as you threaten me, I need something. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He crossed the room and walked out the door slamming it shut behind him and I felt myself sink to the couch I looked down at the file that I had left on the table. I didn’t think about it when I did, I had been reeling from him being in my apartment. It was open on the page about his parents, Lydia and Simon Markham, with big marks saying deceased across their faces. I frowned and looked at the door where he had just gone and felt a melancholy set over me, I kept telling myself it had nothing to with him, but I knew I was lying.