At the Behest of the Dead by Timothy W. Long Page B

anyway.”
    “And it got your ass saved.” She finished the argument succinctly.
    I lay on my back for a few moments, reveling in the aftermath of the battle and the fact that I was still alive. Then the shakes set in and I had to roll on my side and pull my legs up to stop from throwing up. I must have been a sight. It was a wonder the detective didn’t laugh at my bravery.
    “Is he okay? I have more water.” A familiar voice chimed through my thoughts, which were going in at least fifteen different directions.
    “I think I’m good, ” I muttered and wished for a pair of Percocets. I supposed I could have gotten snarky and asked the detective for some.
    Andrews didn’t stick around for our conversation. She rushed to the man that had been injured and leaned over to talk with him. The detective crouched by his side and looked the guy over. I had a tincture in my kit. Something I could use to help him stay lucid until the ambulance arrived. I should’ve probably been using the stuff on me as well.
    I sat up and attempted to stand, and then I landed on my butt again. Ashley patted my shoulder like I was a kid , but she stared at the body on the floor. Her hand slipped and she almost fell down. She landed next to me, putting on a show as if she meant to do that.
    “Are you okay?” I asked.
    She turned her eyes on me but didn’t smile. Her face was a mess, covered in soot, with a piece of wood stuck in her hair. She looked shell shocked, almost in a daze. I didn’t feel much better, but I still reached out and plucked the chunk from her curls.
    “What. Was. That.” She stared into space.
    “Changer. A very very angry changer.”

“He looked like a … a dog.”
    “Werewolf,” Detective Andrews said. She was back at our side, looking me over this time.
    “I don’t believe it,” s he said.
    “I wish it hadn’t been real too.” I said matter of factly.
    “Me too. H e was dangerous. Made a real mess in here,” Andrews said.
    “That’s not it.”
    “What?” Andrews asked.
    “Second one in two days,” I muttered.
    “Second what?”
    Andrews found a pile of napkins that had been scattered across the floor and picked up a handful. He shook them out then handed them to me. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to cry into them or wipe the water off my face.
    “Second time someone’s tried to kill.”
    “Now why would someone want to kill you? You’re so charming.” The detective scoffed.
    “I wish I knew,” I said, then leaned against Ashley. If she was going to sit next to me, I was going to take advantage of the situation. Detective Andrew eyed us but I couldn’t read her look. For some reason, I got the feeling that she didn’t like seeing me with the other girl.
     

    Chapter Six
     
    M y kit was still in one piece but the leather was singed. Shame. I loved that bag. Salazar had given it to me when I was just a kid.
    I applied a salve to a small cut on Ashley’s chin. It wasn’t deep but there was a small trail of blood . I dabbed at it with a fresh piece of cotton that was miraculously dry. She kept her chin tilted upwards. Her teeth bit and pulled her lower lip up so her skin pulled taut. Ashley’s complexion was unblemished, skin smooth and so soft I wanted to do a little more touching than with just the cotton. Her eyes stared down at me as I worked at the wound. It was a job that only took a few seconds but I managed to stretch it out.
    She even wore a hint of some flowery substance that was able to mingle and even overpower the stench of smoke. A few strands of her hair had been touched by a flame. I ran my hands over the area and thought of a spell that might restore it in a matter of days instead of weeks, but I had nothing left. If another werewolf walked in the door and demanded my heart, I wouldn’t have had enough energy to beg for him to come back tomorrow.
    “So.”
    “So,” I said, but avoided her eyes.
    “I thought you repaired chairs.”
    “Sofas.”
    “Right.” S he