A Perfect Blood

against you have no validity.”
    My lips parted, and I sat up straighter. I’d known that David and Trent had been working together to both put laws into place to give me back my rights as a citizen and minimize the damage that me being me wrought, but this was new. “I wasn’t legally a demon when most of those suits were brought against me,” I said, and David smacked a hand on my knee, clearly in a good mood.
    “Yes, you were. You were born a demon. The miracle is that you survived it.” I began to smile, and he added, “My lawyer is having a field day making a name for himself. I think he should be paying us to retain him.”
    I snorted, relieved that something good had come out of it. “Glad I could help,” I said sarcastically. The woman talking to Wayde was looking at me. Her expression wasn’t eager, and I waved at her. That went over really well by all accounts as she frowned at Wayde, and I watched her say, “I’ll ask her. Wait here.” The glass door shut, and Wayde turned, shrugging.
    “Come on,” David said as he opened his door again, clearly in a much better mood. “Let’s see if she’ll let you in.”
    A shiver of excitement tempered with dread sifted through me, and I got out, almost tripping on the curb, David had parked so close. Bag high on my shoulder, I shut the car door behind me with a thump that echoed in the rain-wet streets. I looked at the damp, world-weary buildings around me, able to tell that the river wasn’t that far away.
    “I’m sorry, David,” I said, and he smiled at me over the hood of his car. “I should have done this a long time ago. Thanks for putting up with me.” Why could I admit I was wrong to David, and not to Trent?
    “Not a problem,” he said, then gestured to the store. “Shall we go?”
    I nodded and started across the road. There were more lights on now. My head down to watch for the potholes, I made my way to the front door, David beside me. Upon reaching the chipped curb, I peered past the old posters and into the shop, avoiding Wayde’s disgruntled stare. The windows were so thickly covered with colored images that it was hard to see in.
    “I’m not going to run away,” I said when Wayde leaned over, almost pinning me to the door.
    “Good,” he said shortly, not backing up. “Emojin is on her way down. She’s not sure anymore that she wants to ink you. Way to go, Rachel.”
    “Not ink her?” David dropped back a step. “I already paid for it!”
    Wayde’s expression was hard. “Then you should have gotten her here before she stood Emojin up five times.”
    “I’m sorry about that!” I said loudly, hearing my voice echo in the deserted street. “I wasn’t ready, and I don’t like being pushed!”
    The door was being opened, and Wayde turned to face it. “Then I suggest you tell her.”
    Inside, a shadow moved, outlined with a sudden light when an interior door opened. There was a glimpse of a stairway up, and then the door shut. David dropped back, and the outer door was opened by a barefoot, heavy woman in a blue-and-green sari-like garment.
    I froze. The woman was absolutely gorgeous. I’d never seen a woman this large who carried herself with so much elegance and dignity. Her skin was a pale cream with absolutely no blemishes or marks from a tattoo needle, looking as soft and supple as a newborn’s. Her hair was a silvery white, braided up off her neck. She had comfortable folds of wrinkles that said she smiled a lot, but she wasn’t smiling now. Native American and French, perhaps? I didn’t know.
    “Emojin,” David said through the bars. “Thank you. We finally cornered her.”
    “I haven’t said I’d do it,” she said, and I stepped on Wayde’s foot. He backed up, and I felt better. “Rachel Morgan?”
    I felt trapped as her brown eyes hit me. “Uh, I’m sorry,” I said, feeling like I was back in kindergarten. “I was an ass for standing you up, but I wasn’t ready, and I don’t like being pushed. Will you accept my apologies?”
    She took a deep breath, holding it as she looked me up and down again. “Maybe. Come on in and let me hear you talk some.”
    Hear me talk? I mused, but she had unlocked the wrought-iron door and turned away, moving her bulk with grace as she went deeper into the store.
    David opened the door for me, and feeling like I was being coddled, I went inside. Wayde came in behind me, and finally David. They shut the door with a soft thunk, sealing us inside. I took a