Page 76 of Throwing Shade
18
The city had falleninto a 3AM dream-like hush. This stretch of the downtown east side was deserted, save for a couple of downtrodden men trudging wearily to one of the single room–occupancy hotels nearby. Vancouver was full of contradictions: gentrification butted up against one of the poorest neighborhoods in Canada down here, a mandate to be green and bike-friendly warred with luxury gas-guzzling vehicles, and attempts to situate it as a world-class destination contradicted its local nickname of No Fun City.
The marginalization in this predominantly Sapien neighborhood was hard to reconcile with the lush seductiveness experienced in Blood Alley.
I jumped at every little sound while I hurried to my sedan, dropping into a crouch with my keys thrust outward between my fingers when a car backfired. I peered into my back seat for any more vamps trying to get the jump on me, and only once I’d made absolutely certain it was safe did I get in my car.
The vampire had been a rabbi, so the myths of holy water and crosses were out. Could he enter my home without an invitation? Lindsey had broken into my car. Was that the same thing?
I actually took a moment when I was locked in my vehicle to search online for industrial flashlights that took full spectrum bulbs, but didn’t find any useful options.
When I got back to the storefront, the wolf was prowling back and forth inside the door, his tail stiff, and the golem was still asleep. I motioned to the open back door on my car. “I’m tired, so skip past your temper tantrum and get in.”
Laurent’s compliance was less obedience, more sheer exhaustion, because the second he scrambled onto the spacious seat, he lay his head down on his paws and closed his eyes. I covered him with an old blanket that I kept in the trunk, mostly so that anyone who looked in the car wouldn’t see a giant wolf, but also in case he shifted.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up.” I touched Emmett’s shoulder.
He jerked awake and karate chopped my forearm, ducking his head when I glared at him. “Sorry.”
I wheeled him to my open trunk. “Get in.”
“Oh sure.” He stabbed a finger at Laurent. “Pretty boy gets to ride in the chariot, but I have to role play an Amber Alert victim.”
“Red clay isn’t a normal skin tone and I have nothing else to hide you with.” I crouched down so I was eye level with him. “I am going to count to three and if you’re not in that trunk, then I will leave without you. One…”
He notched his chin up at me.
“Two…” I slammed the trunk shut.
“You said I had until three.”
“I lied. Bye now.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll be good.”
I unlocked the trunk again.
He climbed in unsteadily, his broken leg left behind in Zev’s office, and curled into a ball, resting his head on my emergency kit. “See? A perfect angel.”
“Uh-huh.” I slammed the trunk shut again.
A werewolf and a golem walk into a bar… damn, a drink sounded good.
I drove with the windows down to stay awake. A few blocks before we reached our destination, there was the sound of skin tearing.
All I could see in the rear-view mirror was a rolling, bumpy movement under the blanket. Ripping skin sounded remarkably like roughly crinkling a paper bag, which wasn’t so hard to listen to, but I flinched at the ongoing percussion of breaking bones. Laurent’s guttural groans and heavy breathing reminded me of being in labor. If that was the level of pain he had to go through every time he shifted and he didn’t have a cute baby at the end of it, I didn’t see how it was worth it.
After a few minutes, I heard a deep sigh and the final pop of a joint falling into place.
It had taken me years to let my guard down around Goldie, and a lot of that growth had regressed when my marriage fell apart. Everyone was shaped by negative experiences, but there was a wariness with those of us who’d lived through deep trauma. I recognized them by certain smiles that never quite reached their eyes—which matched the ones I’d practiced in the mirror when I was younger—and the way they angled their bodies slightly away from others.
Laurent fought hard for people, but who did he let into his corner? The first time I’d been around him when he shifted, he’d chased me off. Had he done it with me here out of necessity, or was this, even as much as he’d hidden under the blanket, a sign of trust?
The battered front illusion of Hotel Terminus came into view.
Pulling up to the curb with a lightness in my chest, I put the car in park. “You okay?”
Laurent sat up, once more human, the blanket draped over his head and held tightly together in the front. Good. I didn’t want him flashing his tight abs or powerful thighs or…
