Trail of Dead

I managed to wound the diabolical paper target with five of the next six shots. “Good, good!” Jesse said happily. I set the gun down gently on the table and turned my face to his, accidentally grazing his mouth with my cheek. We both froze. I didn’t meet his eyes, but a long moment of silence lingered as we both considered the possibility that lay between us. Well, considered it again.

 

We had gone on one official date, just one. It was right before I left for New York, and the idea was to do something normal. Human. He picked me up and took me to the ArcLight in Hollywood for a movie and a nearby sushi restaurant for dinner. We talked about the movie and our favorite actors, and he told me stories about his parents’ mischievous pit bull. For once, there was no talk of vampires or werewolves or witchcraft or anything else Old World. And it was amazing. I felt guilty about Eli, but he and I had had nothing but awkward work conversations for months, and Jesse…he looked at me sometimes like I was just another person, which no one else had done in the last five years. I couldn’t resist it.

 

At the end of the night, he offered to walk me to Molly’s front door, which was sort of sweet. I’m generally more of a one-night-stand girl than a chivalry girl. But when we got there, he reached out and stopped my hand before I could turn the knob. His eyes were troubled, and when he opened his mouth I was sure, just convinced, that it was going to be the start of some big “what are we doing” analytical conversation, and I just felt this great rush of…something. I took a step forward, and I kissed him. He wasn’t as tall as Eli, and in my high-heeled boots I just had to reach up a little bit and he was right there. His mouth was cool and hesitant at first, but when I didn’t resist he took my shoulders and pushed me gently against the door and kissed me hard.

 

It was incredible. It was like I could feel both of us let go of all of it, the Old World and the police and Jared Hess. For just a second there was no weight of history and magic between us. We were just Jesse and Scarlett. I’d never felt like that before.

 

And then my phone began to play “Bad Moon Rising,” which Molly had recently programmed as Eli’s ringtone.

 

I figured it had to be business, since that was all Eli and I talked about anymore, so I stepped a few feet away, still breathing hard, and turned my back on Jesse to take the call. I had been right: two female werewolves had managed to get into a drunken fight at the bar, and Eli just wanted to know what would get blood out of hardwood floors. It was an easy, one-minute conversation, the kind I’ve had with my brother when he desperately needed to know how many teaspoons went into a tablespoon. But when I slid the phone shut and turned back to Jesse, he was shaking his head.

 

“I can’t do this, Scarlett.”

 

“Because of my job? It was just a stupid bar fight; everyone is fine.” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice.

 

“Tonight everyone is fine. Tonight it isn’t a big deal,” he said, sounding sad. “But I can’t be around you and listen to you discussing crimes and bloodshed like they’re nothing. I’m not…wired like that.”

 

“Jesse—”

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought I could get past it, but I don’t think I can. Every time your phone rings, I’m going to wonder if what you’re doing is even legal, or who might be getting hurt because of it.” He took my hand, squeezed it gently, and took a step back. “I think we should stop here, before we do some real damage.” Then he walked away from me, leaving me standing there with my mouth dropped open.

 

I went into the house, and for the first time since my parents had died, I cried. And the next time I’d seen Jesse, he was picking me up to take me to Erin’s murder scene.

 

At the gun range, I broke first, turning to face the table in front of me.

 

“Uh, thanks for doing this, Jesse,” I said, in the general direction of the gun.

 

“Yeah. Of course.” He stepped away from me, and I watched him back up to where he’d dropped his duffel bag. “Look, I have an extra gun and holster. I did your paperwork this morning, and I’m pushing it through as fast as I can—”

 

“Wait. What?” I said incredulously. “Look, I agree that it’s good to know how to do this, but I’m not actually going to carry a gun.”

 

“Come on, Scarlett. It’s a good idea. If you have a gun, and Olivia gets in your…zone, or whatever, you can keep her from taking you down. And even if she’s a vampire, it’ll slow her down a little, right? What’s the problem?”

 

“I don’t…guns just…” Words completely failed me, and I gestured helplessly. Using one very carefully in a controlled environment with an LAPD cop literally at my back was one thing. Carrying one with me in the real world was another.

 

Jesse saw my panic and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, let’s drop this for the moment. Your paperwork’s not done, and I’ll be with you for a while anyway. But I do have something else for you.” He reached in the duffel and pulled out something long and black. I poked it and saw the little Kevlar logo.

 

“Merry Christmas.” He held it out to me.

 

“A bulletproof vest?” I said skeptically. “That’s completely pointless, Jess. Nothing Old World uses a gun. It’d be like…carrying a homemade machete to a British fencing match. Tacky.”

 

“There were plenty of guns last fall when we took down Jared Hess,” he pointed out. “They’re starting to think outside the box. Besides, Olivia is coming after you, specifically. She’s gonna know a gun’s the best way to kill you. It changes things.”

 

That scared me enough to consent. I slid out of my comfortable canvas jacket and let him pull the thing over my head. When he fastened the straps, though, the vest rode way too big, armholes hanging down to the sides of my breasts. The vest’s shoulders spiked out a couple of inches past the end of my own shoulders, giving me a Joan-Crawford-from-Hell look. “Jesse, I can’t raise my arms. Who does this belong to? Copzilla?”

 

“Hey,” he protested. “It is a woman’s vest.”

 

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