The blood in my panties didn't surprise me. Sex always encouraged my period when I was close, and I'd been having me some sex. Fortunately, I had an emergency stash in my duffel and took care of business without forcing Vincent to make a special stop. He wanted to get on the road at first light, and just as the buzz from my first cup of coffee wore off, we were on the road heading east. Vincent had taken refuge behind a pair of mirrored sunglasses, keeping his thoughts to himself, so I did the same, using the drive time to catch up with the world via my phone.

Back in town, we stopped at Jin's market first thing, picking up items for chili as well as coffee for Mr. Pearlman. A moving van stood at the curb of my apartment building when we arrived, so we hoofed it around the block with our arms full of groceries. My nosy neighbor, Lilly, from 1A stalled us at the door. Apparently, the wife of the dentist Lilly slept with got her black-listed from every hygienist job in town, so she was moving back home to Nebraska. The news didn't surprise or disappoint me.

Once Vincent and I had the groceries unpacked, I ventured next door to see Mr. Pearlman. The last time we saw each other, a couple of guys with horns and wings escorted me out, and the memory of that fateful night had my chest tightening as I knocked.

"Mr. Pearlman. It's Reese," I said, knocking again when he didn't respond right away. "I know you're in there, you old fart. I can smell your cigarette from here."

"Give a guy a chance to put on his robe," came his grumpy reply, followed by a rattling cough. At least he was alive and breathing.

The door clicked open and Mr. Pearlman stuck his bald head out the door, along with a puff of smoke. "You look well," he croaked.

"What did you expect me to look like? Night of the living dead?"

He gawked at me curiously, probably because he didn't know what I was talking about. "Well, those boys you left with may have appreciated a good story from an old timer, but that didn't make them proper company for a young lady. It was damn hard watching you leave with them. I sure hope they didn't hurt you."

I swallowed the lump threatening to choke me as I stared at my cranky neighbor. Apart from his war stories, I'd never heard him string that many words together in one breath. Granted, he had to take about ten breaths to get through it all.

"They didn't hurt me, Mr. Pearlman, and I know you were worried about me. I'm sorry. I hear Colin came by to check on you."

"Yes. He brought me a cup of coffee that tasted like a milkshake."

"Oh, that reminds me. Here's your coffee," I handed him his cheap stuff and he took it with a trembling hand.

"Are you keeping up with your meds?" I pushed the door open and walked inside. The smell of stale tobacco and old man had gotten out of hand, hitting me right in the nasal passages. I picked up his pill counter and opened it to find all his meds still there. "It's almost ten. You should take your meds now."

"I need to take them with food, and I haven't gotten around to eating yet."

"I'll make you cinnamon sugar toast." I handed him his pills and got started on breakfast without waiting for his reply. "Your apartment needs a deep cleaning. You've left enough breadcrumbs here to keep the Borrowers fed until next year."

"The Borrowers? Is that some new cult?"

I laughed as I filled his sink with soapy water to tackle the mound of dishes he'd amassed. "No, it's a story my parents read to me when I was a kid. It's about a family of tiny people..."

Mr. Pearlman waved my explanation away. "I don't want to hear any more make believe nonsense. I've had enough of that for one lifetime. Oh, hello Vincent," Mr. Pearlman said as Vincent stepped into the open doorway.

Vincent offered Mr. Pearlman an easy smile, looking pointedly at the mound of pills in Mr. Pearlman's hand. "Hello, Henry. I hope you're feeling well." 

"I'm upright. That's all I hope for these days."

"Don't talk like that," I said, wiping my soapy hands on my pants before pulling the bread from the toaster. "You're still walking under your own power."

"That's what I said. You don't have to carry me down the stairs for my weekly walk."

I sprinkled the premixed cinnamon sugar over Mr. Pearlman's toast before the butter completely melted, letting the flavors blend the way he liked it, then I walked the plate to his recliner. Mr. Pearlman followed at a slow, shuffling pace, and I cleared debris from his tray table, stuffing an empty coffee cup under my arm as I helped him into his seat.

"I'm making turkey chili for lunch. I'll bring some over."

"Let me get through this meal first... but turkey chili would taste great on that potato in my cupboard," he said, wheezing into his scruffy collar.

"That potato has eyes as long as your toenails. You need to throw it out. I'm serving the chili over rice. That way you get the protein benefits."

"Protein is fighting a losing battle inside this bag of bones."

I shushed him as I leaned over his chair to close the window. "There's a cold front moving in. You'll want to keep your window closed for the next few days."

As I walked back to the kitchen to unload the dirty dishes into the sink, Vincent watched me from his position at the doorframe. "Can I help?" he asked.

"No, I'm good. I'll just clean these few things and be over to start lunch."

Vincent scaled the small kitchen in two steps, sliding up against my hip. "Your strength is an aphrodisiac to me," he whispered. "I know your menses must be draining you, but here you are... care taking."

I offered an embarrassed smile. "My menses is not draining me. I've been blessed with reasonably cooperative female parts."

"Mmm, yes you have." Vincent nipped the tip of my ear with his teeth, setting off signals down below, where they shouldn't be signaling.

"Really. I'm fine. Go command your empire next door. I'll see you shortly."

Vincent kissed me, making the exchange G-rated and leaving me wanting more. He wasn't quite out of earshot before Mr. Pearlman spoke up.

"That boy is smitten with you."

"I would hardly categorize Vincent as a boy. He's the head of a major foundation and owns several multinational companies."

"Yes, you mentioned that already, and he would give them all up for you."

My response came in the form of a snort. I didn't think Vincent would give up success for me, but he had given up damn near everything else.

~ ~ ~

When I returned to my own kitchen, I found Vincent reclined on the couch with his laptop perched against his knees, squinting from the glare of the window.

"That doesn't look very comfortable," I said.

"It's fine for short periods. I was just about to get up and stretch. Care to join me?"

"I've got to start lunch."

"You've got plenty of time to make lunch. It's only ten AM."

"Oh, shit. My parents are going to..."

As if my revelation had triggered the call, my phone rang in my pocket. I slipped out of the room as I answered, and Mom started chatting right away about Thanksgiving. When she probed me for highlights of my week, I filled in the blanks with stuff that happened before I was abducted by demons, adding in the cabin story, which had worked well on Sylvie. All in all, the convo turned out to be less difficult than I originally thought.

When I returned to start the chili, Vincent was reclining on the couch with his eyes closed. He looked peaceful, like he'd found comfort there on my craigslist bargain, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I chopped onion and garlic.

"Am I amusing you, Miss Kentwell?" he said through barely open eyelids.

"How do you always know when I'm looking at you?"

"I have very acute senses. I also know when you want sex." His lips lifted into a smirk and I joined him.

"That sounds like a handy skill. So, when do you have to go home?"

He raised his lids all the way and sat up, brushing his hand over his V-neck to straighten it. "If you don't mind putting up with me, I was hoping to make your apartment my home until this mess is cleared up. I'll just run to Exchange Place every day to check-in."

"Oh. Does that mean we're officially living together?"

"Yes. I would like to make living together permanent. If you don't object."

I stood at the stove with the spoon lingering at my mouth. "What about Bonnie and Clyde. Your babies will miss you."

"Griffin has been keeping the whippets occupied in my absence."

"Oh." I took a small taste off the spoon, assessing the spice level. "And what happens when you piss me off and I want to walk around the block to vent my frustration? Will you let me do that without an escort?"

"That depends on the time of day and whether I think you're mad enough to take off."

"Do you think I'm going to bolt every time I get angry at you?"

He rubbed his scruffy chin with his thumb. "Part of me says you're just skittish enough to do it, and part of me says you wouldn't stay away for long."

"I'm skittish, huh? Like a squirrel who can't decide whether or not to cross in front of traffic?" I abandoned the spoon and walked over to the couch, plopping down next to him. "I don't think I've ever been called skittish. Is it a substitute for a different word you're trying not to use, like frightened or freaked-out?"

"You don't seem to frighten easily, but you do have an unpredictable temperament. It may take me a while to learn your limits."

Vincent pulled me into his arms and we canoodled for a bit. I had come to covet the moments he held me close. They offered more reward than cream cheese on an everything bagel. "This thing with us... It's going to work out, right?" I said. "Your family doesn't hate me because I'm a hybrid who's plotting to taint the Valentino gene pool?"

His finger came to rest on my lips, stopping whatever fears waited to be voiced. "They do not hate you. Obviously, the situation is less than ideal, but I have chosen you as my mate and that is non-negotiable. I hope you realize you're in this for better or for worse." 

My heart skittered inside my chest, which was probably a close cousin to skittish, and I spoke my muffled response into his chest. "I do."