Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

He sounded so worried that Tara had to bite back a smile. “Yes. I want a gun.”


“You do?” He raised one eyebrow. “Christian told me to get you anything you wanted, but I’m not sure he had a gun in mind.”

“Can you get me one?”

“Probably, there’s an arsenal in the basement. Most of the security guards are armed.”

“Good, and I’ll need someone to show me how to use it.”

“Well, don’t look at me, sweetheart. I’m definitely not your man.”

“But do you know of someone?”

“Again—probably. I’ll have a word with Carl Hanson. He’s the head of security here.”

“Does he know what Christian is?”

Graham nodded.

“Is that safe?” Tara asked.

“Well, Carl’s not exactly” —he paused as if unsure of the right word to use— “normal.”

“What is he?”

“He’s a werewolf. Most of the security guys here are.”

“Right. A werewolf. Great.” She glanced at Smokey, still sitting beside her, listening to the conversation. “Are they the same as shifters?”

“No, they’re different. Shifters are born that way, or at least I think so. Weres are born human and turned. A bit like vamps, I suppose.”

“I should have guessed there’d be werewolves somewhere,” she said almost to herself. “You know, I think I might just pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep. Try to pretend all this isn’t happening. That I have my nice, normal life, that I’m not in love with a vampire, and I’m not about to have shooting lessons with a werewolf.”

Graham grinned. “You can have a normal life—all you have to do is redefine normal.” He frowned. “Hey, did you just say you were in love with Christian?”

Heat washed over her, warming her skin. She nodded.

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Am!” He laughed and patted her arm. “I’m glad. I know Christian likes you.”

“You really think so?”

“Oh yeah, big time.” He swung his legs off the bed and took her empty coffee cup. “I’m going to make some breakfast then get you a gun. God help us all.”

Tara stood in reception as the people came and went. The place was buzzing, and she stared, trying to work out what they were, wondering were any of them human. In the end, she had to ask.

“Is anybody that works here human?”

Graham looked hurt. “Hey, I’m human.”

“Well anybody else then?”

“Actually, nearly everyone is human, and only a few of them know anything about the vampire stuff—just some of the security guards. It’s not hard to keep separate.” He glanced down at the cat at her feet. “Does he go everywhere with you?”

Tara picked up Smokey. “Not normally, but he’s feeling a little insecure right now.”

“There’s Carl, come on.”

Tara studied her first werewolf. Or maybe not her first. She’d seen other security guards, and Graham had said most were wolves. Carl was a stranger though, and she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as she crossed the room toward him.

He was tall, with short dark hair and an upright posture. He wasn’t in uniform like most of the guards, but faded jeans and a khaki T-shirt. His wary green eyes met hers, and he held out a hand. Tara put Smokey on the floor and grasped it. As his palm slid against hers, a frisson of sensation ran through her. He felt it as well, and something feral moved behind his eyes.

“Carl, this is Tara.” Graham made the introductions.

“Tara,” Carl said, nodding. He brought her hand to his face and breathed in deeply. “Hmm, I can see why Christian likes you.”

“Well, I hope it’s for more than what I smell like,” she snapped, tugging her hand away.

He let her go and grinned. “I’m sure it is. Now, I hear you want a gun. What’s it for?”

Wasn’t that obvious?

“To shoot things with.”

“What sort of things—big things, little things?”

“Demons,” she said. “I want to shoot demons. And maybe fae.” She thought for a moment. “Make that, probably fae. Does it make a difference?”

“Anything else? Vampires? Werewolves?”

“You never know,” she said. “Ask me again in half an hour.”

He grinned again. “Come on, let’s go down and get you kitted out.”

Five minutes later, Tara stood in front of the gun racks and stared at all the weapons. “Wow, what a lot of guns.”

She ran her fingers over a few and came to a halt at one particular large impressive pistol. “I really like the look of this one.”

Carl ignored the comment and moved along the rack, finally selecting a small pistol. He turned it over in his hands before handing it to Tara.

She took it from him and looked at it dubiously. “It’s not very big.”

“Has no one ever told you that size isn’t everything?” Carl said.

Graham snorted behind her, and Tara scowled. “That’s great coming from someone who’s six-foot-three,” she grumbled.

“It’s a Sig Pro 9mm,” he said. “And I can give you bullets for that thing that will blow a demon into tiny little pieces.”