“Not until he backs off.”
“He’s not doing anything!” I go to move in front of Lucas, but he growls and holds out his arm, keeping me away.
“Go ahead,” he taunts. “Shoot me and see how much good that does.”
“I have silver bullets,” Officer Maxwell counters.
Lucas laughs. “That’s not how you kill a vampire. But go ahead and try.”
“Stop!” I yell and Officer Maxwell’s arm is jerked down to his side. Fuck. I didn’t mean to do that. His eyes widen and he looks at Lucas with fear.
“What did you do?”
“He didn’t do anything,” Ruby says, slowly moving over. “He didn’t even move.”
“Look at the ground,” Officer Maxwell order Lucas. “Now!”
Rolling his eyes and letting out a dramatic huff that would make Eliza proud, Lucas tips his head down, unable to look at Officer Maxwell in the eye and hold him spellbound. The second the gun is lowered, I rush over to Lucas, throwing my arms around him.
“Your heart is racing,” Lucas tells me, wrapping me in a one-armed embrace.
“I just want to go home.”
“Are you done questioning my wife?” Lucas asks. I spin in his arms, watching Officer Maxwell wrestle with what to do. He’s scared of vampires, and I’m sure he has a good reason to be. He’s a cop, and if he got called out to deal with vampires before, it wasn’t because they were being overly friendly and giving out free hugs.
“Yes,” he finally says. “If I have further questions, I will call you to come into the station.” He looks at Ruby. “Both of you.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Be safe now,” he says, not taking his eyes off us. I swallow my pounding heart, and Ruby shuffles forward. “I’ll drive the Jeep.”
“Thanks,” I say, letting out another deep breath, desperate to get home. I really have to pee on top of everything.
“You’re okay?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I hold up my arm, looking at the scratch. “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh.” I rub my temples. “I’m fine. Let’s just…let’s just go. We have a party to get to.”
She nods, pats my shoulder and gets in the Jeep. Binx follows, hitching a ride up front next to her. I get into Lucas’s Mercedes with him, feeling the tension the moment the doors to the car close.
“What really happened?” Lucas slowly accelerates.
“Scrapper demons.” I pull the seatbelt over my lap. “One ran out in front of me, and I hit it. My poor Jeep. We got out, I threw an energy ball at the one I hit and burned it to death. Then we heard the kids screaming.”
The Mercedes speeds up, and a few seconds tick by. We’re close to my house and will be there in only a minute by the rate we’re going.
“So we ran into the woods,” I continue. “And found several scrapper demons standing over the injured kid. He said a werewolf attacked him, but that can’t be. There aren’t weres in Thorne Hill.”
We pull into the driveway and Lucas puts the car in park in front of the house.
“I have to pee,” I say, using it as my excuse to get out the second the engine is cut. I unlock the house with magic and burst inside. Freya and Pandora are sleeping on the couch, and Scarlet comes running.
My eyes fall shut and the biggest wave of relief goes through me. I run my hands over her fluffy fur, feeling for her collar, which is in place, of course.
“You’ve been here the whole time, right?” I ask, petting her once more. I get up and dash upstairs, really having to use the bathroom. Lucas is at the top of the landing when I come out, startling me when I open the bathroom door.
“You need to disinfect that cut on your arm,” he says.
“Oh, right. It’s scabbed over by now. I’m fine.”
“Wounds can get infected,” he tells me.
“I know, but I’ve never had that happen before. I’ll get a freaking band-aid if it appeases you.”
“Yeah,” he snaps. “It would. You’re more human now than ever,” he reminds me.
“I’m aware.” I let out a sigh and go back into the bathroom, turning on the sink to let the water warm up. I grab a washcloth from the little linen closet next to the shower, and run it under the water, getting it just wet enough to gently rinse the cut on my arm.
“Does it hurt?” Lucas asks, leaning on the door frame.
“It didn’t. I wasn’t even aware I got cut. But now that I’m scrubbing my scab off it hurts.” I squeeze the water out of the washcloth and press it against my arm, holding it there for a few seconds. “There, I’m fine now,” I snap.
“You’re mad I want you to clean your wound so it doesn't get infected?”
“I’m not mad,” I counter. “It’s a little annoying. I’m fine.”