Kinsey Holley - KISS AND KIN

«Coming through, let us through please,» said the second officer through the door. «Please, folks, everyone go back to your apartments. We need to talk to the folks in here. Thank you,» he finished as the neighbors drifted back to their own units, speculating on the cause and nature of the disturbance and the very large guy on the floor holding Lark in his lap.

He tuned the neighbors out and turned his attention to the officers, one of whom said, «Excuse me, ma'am? Detective?»

Lark mumbled something about washing her face and fled to her room.

Taran showed his badge to one of the officers, whose name was Hinojosa, and gave his statement. He recounted almost everything; he left out the part about sitting in the cul-de-sac for three hours, saying he'd arrived at the same time as the two wolves.

«He pulled a silver knife on you?» Officer Hinojosa asked with raised eyebrows.

«Yeah, that one there, sticking out his back,» Taran replied.

«Pussy,» the cop sneered.

The EMTs wanted him on the stretcher and into an ambulance, but since neither was a wolf and they didn't have a tranq gun, they couldn't make him do it. He let them help him stand up-he knew he couldn't do it alone-and he agreed to let them look at his thigh.

Lark came out of the bedroom with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She flinched a little, uncertainly, when he put his hand out to-what? Hug her? Stroke her face? Kiss her in front of the cops and the EMTs? Their moment of intimacy had passed, and he would deal with it.

He hated dealing with it.

«I'm going to let these guys look at my leg,» he told her quietly. «You talk to the officers. When you're done, pack enough clothes and stuff to be gone for a few days, maybe a week.»

«Why? Where am I going?»

«My place.» She started to argue. «Lark, I'm not discussing it with you. You can't stay here, they may try again. I need you where I can protect you and know you're safe.»

«But I don't want to get in the way,» she said fretfully, crossing her arms and hunching her shoulders, «or cramp your style or anything,» «I don't have a style. Or anything. I have five bedrooms and I only use one. Talk to the cops, then pack.»

«Taran? Dude, what the fuck happened?»

Taran turned in surprise at the sound of Denardo's voice. Too tired to reprimand a beta rookie for calling him dude, he recounted the evening's events before he let the EMTs do a quick repair job in the bathroom.

He returned to the den to hear Denardo complimenting Lark on her composure, which she seemed to appreciate. Taran had noted her composure, but he didn't compliment her.

He never complimented her, he mused.

«Hey, Danny,» he said loudly, «how'd you know I was over here?»

«When Lark called it in-« the beta put his hand on her shoulder as he said her name, and Taran very consciously refrained from growling, «-she told the dispatcher who you were. I was at the precinct when we heard about an officer down. You going to the hospital now?»

«No,» he said shortly. «Don't need to. He missed the important parts.» You could pump a beta with whiskey and speed, but you couldn't make him a decent knife fighter. «They gave me an antibiotic shot. I'll just stay off it a day or so.» He couldn't protect her from a hospital bed. He'd feel like shit for a couple days, but he'd recover shortly.

«Look, werewolf, I don't mean to tell you what to do,» his trainee said diffidently, «but you look like hell.»

«He's right,» Lark said. He almost told her to back off, but she put her hands to his face, feeling his cheeks and his forehead, so he stood quietly and soaked in her touch.

«Taran, you're cold,» she fretted. «You've got silver poisoning. You need a doctor.»

He looked at her eyes. She lowered her gaze, but not before he'd seen the worry there-worry for him.

«I'll be fine for tonight, silly brat.» he said softly, venturing a quick kiss on her forehead. She jumped a little, smiled nervously, and gave him a quick hug before backing away. They looked at each other uncertainly for a moment.

Taran cleared his throat. «I called Nick while the EMTs worked on me. He's sending a couple of guys over here to put your door back up.»

«Thank you.»

«Lark says she doesn't recognize the dead guy,» Denardo said.

«No, I don't,» she confirmed. «That's sort of scary. I mean, he could be one of them,» she continued, pointing at the corpse still face down on the door in a small pool of blood, «or I could run into one of them on the street, and I wouldn't even know it.»

«Which is another reason for you to stay at my place, till we get a bead on these assholes,» Taran said.

«It's the drug,» Denardo said to Lark. «GHB wipes out memory of everything that happens after you take it. That's why it's a date rape drug. I'm surprised you remember anything at all. You need anything from me?» he asked Taran.

«Nah, I can drive.»

They both looked at him incredulously.

«Taran, you really shouldn't-« began Denardo.

«No way,» Lark said. «I'm driving you.»

«I'll follow and help get you settled,» Denardo chimed in.

«Goddamn it,» Taran said, «I'm not that wounded. I don't need help getting to bed.»

«Taran…» Lark crossed her arms, this time not in a fearful, hunched up way but in a bossy, female way, «…if you don't let us help you, I'm telling your mother you got stabbed.»

He couldn't answer that. At least the beta had sense enough not to laugh.

She pulled up to Taran's isolated Memorial home around midnight, Danny right behind her.

Taran didn't speak during the short trip, and he didn't watch her every move as she drove his car, so she knew he was exhausted and in pain.

Werewolves ran fevers when ill, except for silver poisoning, which lowered their body temperature. It indicated infection, and she hoped the antibiotic got it. If his temperature still ran low in the morning, she'd call Nick, who'd order Taran to the doctor.

She gave in to temptation and pressed her palm to his left cheek. He felt marginally warmer than a while ago.

He opened his eyes and looked at her.

Before she could snatch her hand back, he pressed it to his shoulder with his cheek. He turned his head and lightly kissed her wrist.

«You all right?» she asked in a shaky whisper.

He nodded against her palm. «Yeah. I just want to sleep.»

He looked about to say something else, but Danny appeared at Taran's window.

«Is he okay?»

Lark sighed and got out. Danny helped him into the house and to bed.

Taran insisted she take his room. She refused-she couldn't handle sleeping in his bed, even if he weren't hurt. Denardo went home, Taran fell asleep, and Lark unpacked her stuff. Then she lay awake in a guest bedroom until about four o'clock in the morning.

Lark loved the rambling, one-story ranch-style house built in the fifties. This had been Taran's childhood home, before his wealthy father passed away and his mother married Uncle David. He'd thoroughly remodeled and updated it when he left the Army and returned to Houston. He'd left some of the original features intact, including the brick walls, exposed ceiling beams and huge stone fireplace in the den.

She sat at the breakfast table in the huge kitchen Monday morning, enjoying an unhurried mug of coffee. Taran walked in, dressed for work in another fitted sweater, this one black, and a pair of dark blue jeans. Lark still wore the purple and white striped rugby shirt and purple sweats she'd slept in.

«You going in late?» he asked as he poured coffee for himself. She noted his slight limp and the barely perceptible wince when he lowered himself into a chair across from her.