A Perfect Blood

squirming as he felt in my coat pockets.
    “Looking for your keys,” he said, and my hand met his cheek in a loud smack.
    “Get off!” I yelled, and I heard the jingle of keys as he backed up. “What in hell is wrong with you!”
    His head lowered, Wayde backed off, my keys in his hand. His face was red where I’d hit him, but he didn’t seem bothered about it. “You’ll thank me for this later,” he said, looking as if he’d won. “I know you’re mad about Eloy, but running out and trying to find him isn’t going to help anyone, least of all you.” He jiggled my keys as if he had the world by the nads, and I frowned, tugging my coat straight. Now? I wondered. Can I use my demon magic now?
    Trent hadn’t come in yet. I knew he was watching this, and my thoughts whispered restraint . I could walk away, but if I did, he’d just follow me in my car. I needed my keys. “You,” I said as I limped toward Wayde and he backed up, blinking, “haven’t known me long enough to give me advice that I’m not going to take. Give me my keys.”
    “No.” He raised them high over his head as if it were a game. “Let’s go upstairs, have some pizza, beer, and burn HAPA in effigy. Tomorrow when we’re done with our pity party, you’ll make some charms and we’ll find out where they went. We don’t have to tell the FIB or the I.S. We can take care of this ourselves.”
    Taking care of this myself was exactly what I intended to do. Adrenaline seeped through me, erasing every hurt, making me alive. “Keys,” I said, backing him up until we were at the elevators again. “Give me my keys!” I demanded, my hand out, and he held them in the air like a school bully. “Wayde, I’m not afraid anymore to hurt you!”
    He shook his head. “My God, you’re a bitch when you’re on pain meds.”
    “That’s alpha bitch, buddy,” I said, shaking, “of an honest-to-God pack. And you will respect that. Give me my keys, get in that elevator, and go away, or I’ll pin you to the ground and rip off your ear.”
    Face grim, he shook his head. Pity had slipped into his eyes, and he slid the keys into his pocket. “He hurt you, Rachel, and I know what that does to you. My sister is the same way, and she hurts herself worse trying to get back at them. It doesn’t make anything better.”
    I looked at him for a good three seconds, feeling my impatience grow. Trent was waiting, and Wayde wasn’t listening. My ankle was starting to hurt again. Maybe I shouldn’t have busted my crutch. I had tried. My idea of no violence wasn’t working. “Maybe you’re right,” I said, relaxing my body as if I had given up.
    Wayde smiled. “Good,” he said as he looked away to push the up button.
    I lunged forward, grabbing his shoulders and slamming his head into the wall. “Sorry,” I breathed as he howled, reaching behind to get me.
    “Son of a whore!” he swore, and I hooked my good leg behind his and pulled. We both went down, but I was expecting it. Arms pinwheeling, he fell headfirst into the ashtray beside the elevator. Kneeling beside him, I grabbed the heavy metal bowl and slammed it on his head.
    Wayde yelled, and I hit him again, adrenaline pulling a scream of outrage from me. He went quiet, and I held my breath to make sure I could hear him breathing. I suppose I could have used my magic on him, but this was a lot more satisfying.
    “I never should have helped her off the couch,” he whispered, and I hit him again, the ashtray bonging with hard certainty.
    He groaned, and this time, he really was out. There were three lumps on his head, and I shoved him over so I could pull his eyelids back to make sure that his pupils were dilated properly. “I told you I wasn’t afraid anymore,” I said as I slowly got up, shaking. Good God, my mother would laugh her pants off. I’d beaten up my bodyguard.
    I gave a moment’s thought to taking his belt off and tying him up, but Trent was flashing his lights at me. Not wanting Wayde to follow, I felt his pockets for my keys and fished them out. Still shaking, I got up, made a salute to the camera in the corner, and hobbled out.
    The cool night air was like a balm, and I headed for Trent’s car with my thoughts swirling. I’d hurt Wayde, but he’d be okay, not dead like if he followed and ended up shot. “You could have helped me out there,” I said as I yanked the handle up and slid into the sharp little black two-seater, finding the seat warm from the electronic