by Martha Woods
“Well, that couldn’t have been a stronger sign that it’s time to eat some actual food. I didn’t have breakfast and I gather you didn’t either.”
He steps out of the tub, grabs a towel and says, “I’ll go make us some sandwiches. Take your time.”
With that, I’m alone again. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with my body – nearly broken not long ago. Alone with my ghosts and regrets.
Chapter 2
The buzzing of my alarm clock sounds like a jackhammer.
I fumble around, cursing as I try to find the snooze button. I am generally pretty anal retentive about getting up right when the alarm goes off. I’ve always believed that consistency of habit is the best way to be productive. I get up at the same time each morning. I would walk my dog. I would work out. I would watch the news and wait for the call to come to an investigation, or I would go straight to the lab.
Snooze is not a word in my vocabulary. Or, at least, it wasn’t.
“Dammit,” I mutter as the incessant hammering assaults my sleepy senses.
“Gonna get up this morning?” Damon murmurs from his spot beneath the covers.
I finally shut the whole thing off, but immediately reset the alarm for half an hour from now. I’m awake, though, after all that fiddling.
“I am,” I say with a big yawn and stretch. “I thought I might sleep in a little but I’m not that good at it. Obviously.”
“Well, if you have a few extra minutes, I can think of ways to help you ease into your day.” His voice is thick with sleep. He usually sleeps all day after working all night.
“I’m surprised you’re even awake,” I comment.
“I can be persuaded to stay in bed a little longer,” he says, pulling me closer, spooning his big body around me, his hand sneaking to find my breast.
“I should get up,” I say with a groan, throwing my arm over my face.
“Just a little longer?” Damon asks, kissing my shoulder.
I roll to my back and Damon’s mouth immediately meets my nipple. I may be confused about my emotions, but my body knows just what it wants. I arch into him and he chuckles.
“Greedy this morning,” he grins, pulling away. “But I don’t want you to be late on your first day back to work.”
“Don’t tease,” I say, reaching out to stroke him, already hard and ready. “Maybe it’s okay if I’m a little late…”
He shakes his head, his eyes sparking with mischief as he moves down my body, his lips on my stomach first, but moving quickly down below the blanket. When his tongue meets that top-secret spot between my legs, I let out a sigh of pleasure, my hands finding his hair, pulling him closer. He pushes me close, so close, and chuckles before moving back up my body, his lips finding mine, my scent and taste all over him. He pushes, hard, into me, not breaking the kiss. I suck in a breath, shocked and titillated by the suddenness of it. When he moves, the familiar friction is so good I begin to again feel the build-up immediately.
I reach back to grab the slats on the headboard, my breasts jutting for his mouth to devour. He moves fluidly, his body so perfectly fit to mine as I push my hips to meet his thrusts.
We’re both sweating by the time we find our release, and Damon makes a comment about missing my morning workout.
“How many calories do you think I just burned?” I ask.
“Enough,” he says, slapping my butt as I head for the bathroom to clean up.
Indeed.
* * *
Fashion has never been my strong suit, so it will surprise no one when I show up to work in a slightly wrinkly but kind of pretty blue sweater and the same black dress pants I wear every other day, in between the same pair in khaki. It just doesn’t seem important how I look when I’m out investigating crime scenes and dead bodies.
Still, I feel less put-together than usual as I run out the door, pulling my shoulder-length hair into a ponytail, the heels of my boots clacking against the tile. I’ve got twenty minutes to make forty-five-minute commute. Great, Rick isn’t going to be impressed.
Just as I push the elevator button, Damon pops out the door and asks, “Why don’t I drive you?”
I hit the down button a few more times, impatient. “It’s okay,” I say. “I don’t want you to have to pick me up.”
He shrugs. “I’m ok with that. I can get you there a little faster and you won’t have to waste time finding parking and walking. You’ll only be a little late instead of a lot late. Plus…it was kind of my fault you’re running late in the first place.”
Part of me relishes the fact that he is offering. First, this is not a normal time for him to be up and about. Second, the offer to drive me into work is so…normal. It’s such a sweet, couples gesture from a man who was not supposed to allow himself to have attachments like this.
The other part of me needs time away from him, time to think. I’ve found myself distracted by our sexual chemistry, which is nice, but I’m still unsure of my feelings. And it’s not fair of me to let him make all of these life changes for me if I am not completely committed to being with him.
As the elevator doors open, he awaits my answer, so I nod and he steps into the elevator beside me, taking my hand.
I bristle a little at his touch, not so much because I don’t want him touching me, but because it makes me feel guilty. Hunters are not supposed to have attachments. And here I am, luring Damon away from what he was born to do.
I’ve never been a believer in monogamy. I’ve had relationships, of course, but they’ve never worked out and I’ve always been realistic about that. I’m not sure I ever believed that two people could fall in love and stay in love until the end of time. It seems impossible, and I know that the data backs up my opinion.
So add those two things together – my guilt over Damon’s choice to leave his hunter brotherhood and my general feelings about the impracticality of long-term relationships – and you have a recipe for drama. And as Amy is usually a “No Drama Llama,” I am feeling itchy about this odd feeling of love limbo I am in right now.
I chew on my lip as we ride the elevator down and then make our way out to Damon’s old, white pickup truck. He opens the door for me and lifts me up into the seat, the action unexpected, making me giggle.
“You know I can get into the truck on my own. Done it a couple of times,” I say playfully.
“Just helping out my girl,” he says with a shrug as he starts the engine. “You’ve been through a lot lately.”
“I’m good,” I say. “I swear.”
He puts his hand on my knee as we drive. “I can’t help but worry,” he says. “You lost a ton of blood. And I felt helpless knowing you’d gone through that and that I hadn’t been there to help you. You saved me once, I wish I could have been there to save you, too.”
I reach for his hand and squeeze. “First, this isn’t a competition,” I say. “Second, there’s no clause in our relationship that says you have to fight my battles for me.”
“I know, but supporting each other is part of a healthy relationship,” he argues.
“Not when it comes to monsters,” I reply. “Supporting someone going back to school or starting a new career is normal for a relationship. Running into the fray with a bunch of monsters is above and beyond the call of relationship duty.”
“Not when one half of the relationship is a Hunter,” he says. “Our relationship is different. You shouldn’t have gone without me.”
“Maybe not,” I concede. “What I did was impulsive, but I thought I could save two lives and I acted. I work on the police force, protect and serve is our motto. I wasn’t just going to let Cara be bait for vampires.”
“And Vincent,” he says. “You went for him, too.”
I’m quiet for a moment, looking out the window.
“I did,” I say quietly.
“And you didn’t trust me enough to ask for help?” he asks.
“I didn’t trust you not to kill him. Or her, depending on what state she was in. You’
ve made your opinions clear on how you feel about vampires. They are all the same to you.”
“Well, that’s on me, then,” he says, shaking his head. “My prejudices put you in danger.”
“Don’t martyr yourself like that,” I say. “I made my own choice.”
“I don’t love that you risked yourself for a vampire,” he answers, “but I understand why you did. I just want to get to a point where you trust me enough to ask for help when you need it.”
“I’ve never been good at asking for help,” I admit. “I’ve been on my own a long time.”
“We both have some learning to do,” he says. He takes a moment to think. “He did do the right thing, I guess. He brought you back to me. I guess I didn’t realize that you genuinely cared for him.”
I scan his face to see if there is hurt there. He seems more thoughtful, though.
“I do care for him.” I say. “I won’t lie about it. But I love you. And I know you want to keep me safe. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I was a jealous asshole,” he says. “Let me make it right?”
“There’s nothing to make right,” I say. “I think we are both learning, here.”
I scoot over on the bench seat and rest my head on his shoulder until we turn a familiar corner and pull in front of my office building. As he parks, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his big body, kissing my forehead.
“You aren’t allowed to park here,” I comment.
“Always with the rules,” he grins. “You’re such a goody two shoes.”
“I just don’t want you to get a ticket,” I say, giving him a look of faux-annoyance. “Seriously, they’ll ticket you while you sit in the car. They don’t care.”
“And so stubborn.” He leans in for a quick kiss. “But fine. You need to get in there before you’re late. Getting you here on time was the whole point of me driving.”
I scoot away, opening the door and hopping out. Giving a little wave, I say, “Thank you. See you tonight.”
“I love you,” he says. “Good luck today.”
“I love you too,” I say automatically, flushing a bit at the sentiment.
As I make my way into the building, it occurs to me how nervous I feel. Which is stupid, because I literally just spent a week in hell, nearly losing my life. Going back to my routine and my job should be easy, right? I am passionate about my work and I am damn good at it, too, so this should be a piece of cake. It is laughable to think that I would be afraid of my boss more than I was afraid of a bunch of murderous vampires.
As I make my way to the front desk, I expect to see the familiar face of Michelle, but she is not there. I find myself frowning as I approach, not liking to see change right off the bat.
The new receptionist is on the young side, with short, curly, dark hair and big brown eyes. She’s very cute, smiling genuinely as she asks, “Can I help you?”
“I’m Amy,” I say, more tersely than I mean, “I work here.”
She hops up from her seat and holds out her hand to shake. “Oh, Amy, nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you
“Well that makes me nervous,” I say.
“Silly,” she says with a wave of her hand. “People here love you. I heard you’ve had some health issues lately. Hopefully you’re all better now?”
“Fit as a fiddle,” I say.
“Oh, good,” she says. “Well, let me know if you need anything today. I’m Vivianne.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” I say. “Just curious – where’s Michelle today?”
“She had a family emergency,” she says. “I usually work shifts at the second precinct so they asked me to fill in for her today.”
“Oh,” I say. “Okay. She hardly ever misses work, so it was jarring not to see her face this morning.”
“Oh I bet,” she says. “But hopefully I’ll do the job justice.”
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” I say. “I’m the one worried I won’t get right back into the swing of things.”
“Everyone has rough patches,” she says, settling back into her chair as the phone rings. “I’m sure it will be just like riding a bicycle.”
I wave as she answers the phone, still smiling at me. I am a little leery of being greeted so warmly by someone I’ve never met before. Maybe she is just a nice person, but the investigator in me has her hackles raised. Of course, it could be that she is quite a bit younger than I am, I think. It is kind of messed up to get life advice from a kid barely out of college. She probably hasn’t seen half of what I have.
Not that I would wish it on anyone.
Chapter 3
“So how ya feeling, kiddo?” Rick asks from the doorway as I make myself a cup of coffee. “Settling back in okay?”
I smile warmly at the man I consider a father figure. “I’m good,” I answer. “I was really nervous when I got here, but everything feels the same. Other than the new girl at the front desk.”
“She’s cheerful, isn’t she?” he says with a wink. “She’s been covering for Michelle all week. We haven’t worn down the optimism of youth yet. Give it time.”
I laugh. “Isn’t that the truth?”
“So you’re really feeling okay?” he asks. “I need you at a hundred percent. If you’re not there, then take more time off.”
“I mean, I tried running today and felt like a first-timer,” I say with a cringe, “but other than being out of shape, I think I’m doing pretty well.”
“It’ll come back,” he says. “You’re tough. Just keep your head in the game, Amy. I need you here.”
It feels like old Rick, part cheerleader, part father, part whip-cracker. I like it. It feels normal and I really need normal right now.
Unfortunately, he has not changed his mind about limiting my duties for a while. He says it is about my health, but really, I think that there is a part of him that still does not believe that I know nothing about the disappearance of James Roberts. He simply does not trust me as implicitly as he once did. This is hard for me. I am an overachiever and my job has always been a top priority in my life. To have someone I respect lose respect or trust for me? Well, I die a little inside every time I think about it.
I did not invite the supernatural into my life, but it has wreaked havoc on everything meaningful to me. Not only did I lose my beautiful dog Bella, see my home in shambles, and watch my best friend fall down a rabbit hole of vampire-thrall, I am now relegated to the position of “Assistant Forensics Investigator.” This means I assist other officers. I do not lead a team. I do not investigate on my own. Getting coffee for the “real” investigators had better not be on my list of revised duties. If it is, coffee might end up in someone’s lap. Oops.
It is not an official suspension, if I am looking at the bright side, but it is definitely a demotion, however temporary. My ego hurts a little, but I guess that the best thing to do is to be the best assistant investigator possible. I need to kick ass and take names and earn my spot back at the top of his “favorites” list.
When Rick says he needs me here, he means physically and mentally. As well, he needs to know he can trust my decision-making, my sanity, and me. I have not given him reason to believe that he can do any of those things lately, so I will have to work three times as hard as everyone else in order to reclaim my spot at the top of the food chain here.
I am a hands-on investigator and I live for the process. I am truly passionate about what I do. The idea of getting someone’s coffee or typing up their reports makes me die a little inside every time I think about it. Still, I know I have not been a hundred-percent lately. I believe in earning respect through hard work, so that is what I will do.
The desk part of my reduced role does have a plus side, which is learning a new software and new scientific protocol, on which I will train others. I enjoy learning new things, so this should be a nice distraction.
Most of the cases of late have been run-of-the-mill, I realize with some relief, as I review th
e case files. Some have been committed by monsters, sure, but not the supernatural kind. This is good news, as the further I can stay away from monsters that go bump in the night, the better right now. If I am ever to have a sense of normalcy back in my life, I need to go back to being ‘just Amy.” Even the witch in me needs to stay dormant, though that will certainly be tough.
As I laboriously sit at my computer, going through the few requests sitting on my desk, the boredom is starting to kill me. Suddenly, a loud bang nearly makes me jump out of my seat. In my sudden jump, I hit my knee on the edge of the table and I start yelling a string of curse words, just as Rick walks by. Great.
“Everything okay in here?” he asks.
I’m surprised to see one of our DNA trays on the floor, glass vials of blood and other samples broken all over the place. I look around, confused.
“Did you see anyone come out of here?” I ask.
“Nooo,” he draws out, looking suspicious. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “Spooked, I guess. I was reading some files and heard a noise. I thought maybe someone had been in here.”
“How did these samples end up on the floor?” he asks.
“No idea,” I say. “Must have bumped them when I jumped up from my desk, but I didn’t know they were there. I’m so sorry. That was not awesome and it won’t happen again.”
I pull on rubber gloves and grab the clean-up kit, falling to my knees. Rick peers down at me, crouching and looking concerned.
“Are you sure you are ready to be back?” he asks.
“I’m totally fine,” I assure him. “I just need to get back into a routine. Maybe go get my butt kicked in a gym to toughen me back up.”
I give him a wan smile, hoping to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t smile back.
“This isn’t something to joke about, Amy,” he says. “If you’re not really better, I can’t have you here.”
“I’m not joking. Just a little jittery. Heard something, and turned a little too fast. Bam. Everything hits the floor,” I say with a shrug.
