Reflection

The air had a slight damp chill to it now and the lack of extra cover on my back didn't help matters.

I took in a deep breath as I went down the handful of concreate steps when something made my nose twist. It was the smell of a shifter and crispy chicken, so I felt out with my aura a little and couldn't sense anything nearby. Because the smell remained, it hadn't been here too long ago. Shifters are scarier then most Others in the fact that unless you knew a person's eye color and dental make up, you wouldn't even be able to tell they were a shifter..   

Going in and order food and a couple beers, I gave my thanks to them for staying open 10 mins longer then usual. I had just walked in when they were stacking chairs.

Chittlers is a mom and pop chicken joint that had its regular late-night drinkers and munchers to keep it open. They aren't elaborate, and I'm not sure who the owners are. Either way, it was definitely one of my favorite places for fried chicken.

Leaving, I noticed the smell of shifter from earlier had dwindled done to almost nothing in the cool night breeze that came. I text Reggie once I got back in the apartment building and asked her to get me a name and number of someone who may have a safe hose available. I had a few I could call but decided it was easier dealing with someone new then someone who may have too many questions. 

Coming up to Cash's door I could hear angry, and could feel it too. The metal door was projecting garbled words being shouted into what I assume was his cell phone. I couldn't eavesdrop so I just stood there tracing the random wall of bumps under neath the paint until he had finished whatever argument he had going on. Only 2 mins passed before silence and I knocked. There was moments worry he wouldn't let me in but the door clicked and opened.

Cash looked at me for a moment and then glanced at the bags before looking back up at me and finally gesturing for me to come in. I went straight to the kitchen and he followed me. I pulled the beers out first and handed him a cold can. He immediately popped it open. The sound a of a beer being opened is close to what finale bliss could be like. I wanted one so bad but settled for water and a plate of golden crispy goodness. Grabbing a plate and mug out of the cupboard, I wanted to ask what had this wolf in such a tizzy, but decided to let him tell me if he wanted. Grabbing the chicken out of the bag and setting it out on the table I heard a knock on the front door. Watching Cash set the beer down on the coffee table and head for the door, I stopped him.

"Wait, let me check it out." I started for the door but he beat me to it and opened it. It was the Pixie next door. I eased my aura back in as a bit slipped out ready for what could have been on the other side.

"Crist said you'd make good use of this since he already ate the other one." She had that 'Lets read a story!' type voice, one you could get lost in.

"Thanks Robin, tell him I appreciate it." She handed Cash a pizza box and my eyes lit up. She nodded, gave me another odd look before Cash closed the door. Chicken and pizza? It was my lucky night!

I danced a bit excitedly as Cash walked over to the larger sofa and set the pizza box down on the coffee table. He slammed the remainder of his beer and came to the kitchen to get another. The silence was killing me so I decided I would break the ice with pizza.

"I didn't know you eat pizza, I thought you were a meat only type of guy?" I said it as neutrally as I could because he was on edge and I could tell. 

"I indulge on occasion. I'm not in the mood for it tonight, so you can help yourself." Hearing those words, I jumped up with plate in hand and went to the sofa.

The smell of baked goodness covered in gooey cheese and mushrooms hit my nose. My feet did a little dance on the carpet as I sat down. Opening the box, I surveyed the pizza. It was important to pick a slice that looked good. It's a part of enjoying the whole process so I picked one that had a dough bubble. With a chicken leg in one hand and slice of pizza in the other I eyed Cash.

He was drinking his second beer seated at the table and scrolling on his phone. I figured it was time to start getting serious about the situation. 

"I'm waiting for a place we can go until we find out who put this hit out on you. You'll have to swallow your pride and not go anywhere, not even to work. If you your work is an issue, make some calls, this isn't negotiable. Please don't make it harder than it has to be. I first need to know, though, who you pissed off, who might want you dead, and what's making a pack of wolves go as far as hiring a hitman to kill an Alpha." He is Alpha, and that was clear as day just by looking at him.

He shrugged and scooted himself out of the chair. Turning towards the sink I could hear a deep sigh coming from him.

"I may be a wolf, and most wolves may need a pack , however, I do not. I like my solitude, I like my peace and quiet, and what I like the most is not having a barking female up my ass day and night wanting to fuck like rabbits just so our genes can scatter in the wind. Does that satisfy your curiosity?". His response came out in a rush with anger tied to each word and I almost felt bad for him.

I had a thought flash in my head and my brain couldn't override my mouth before blurted it out.

"Do you not like sex? Or can you not, like, do 'it'? If that's the problem, I definitely know some Others that are doctors, they can work miracles for you. That is if you want." My talking didn't stop there as I continued on a tirade about if he had 'performance problems', it could easily be solved, and he should just join the pack, just for his safety. I could tell I was tired as it became more of a rambling as he just watched me talk. 

Insert total regret here, because at the moment I paused, he was on me. I was pressed into the sofa with his hands swallowing my shoulders. Sometimes I am not as quick witted as I would seem and can end up inserting my foot, shoe or even pants in my mouth. His gaze only a breath away from mine told me that I inserted more than pants this time.

"And what, my little feathered bodyguard, makes you think I have a performance 'problem'? You think that's what makes me reluctant? Would you perhaps like to test the theory" I caught my breath from his words.

I could feel him straddling my legs and it almost felt good.

His gaze was filled with anger yet soft with the attempt of seduction. His words felt like a fine warm mist hitting my body and I needed to get out of this before I got drenched.

At that moment his lips pressed hard into mine startling me. I pulled at my aura and used every ounce of strength as I pushed him off. He managed to stumble backwards over the coffee table that was littered with chicken and pizza before he came crashing down on it all. Like the ice cream coming off your cone on a hot summer day to splatter the pavement, I wanted to cry. I didn't even manage to save the chicken leg I had firmly grasped for dear life a moment ago.

Our eyes met as we stared at each other, then he chuckled, breaking eye contact.

"Scared you may be wrong?" His grin widened as my cheeks had turned a nice cherry red.

"It was just a question. No need to get upset, its protocol for me to ask what the issues are and try to resolve them before inevitable violence comes our way. I am here to protect you, not judge your, length, of ego, or any such thing. It was merely a question and assumption." I responded standing up.

Walking over to the kitchen sink, I washed my hands and realized the bottom of my leathers were splattered with pizza guts and wasted chicken. This will be the 3rd pair in 4 months I've had to replace because of food. I think I'll start filling out a reimbursement sheet and ask Michael to deliver it upstairs. Hazards of being attacked by food. 

I turned around to see Cash stand up and pull the pizza slices off that had stuck to his jeans. He looked at me again, "I'll play your little game, I don't know exactly who you are, but if the Almighty upstairs has a misconception that my body needs some kind of protection, then so be it. It's your death, not mine." He turned from me and headed to the bathroom. 

I laughed softly to my self out loud, "Ha.. My death? Okay, should I pretend to be scared?"

I started wiping the chicken grease from my mouth with my ripped hoodie sleeve. How many times did Michael tell me to carry a backpack of cloths, wipes and necessities for when I went out on a job? Too many. I whined it would weigh me down, but here I am again, covered in food guts instead of animal guts whishing I had listened. Nothing like lack of foresight to make food taste bad.