Page 75 of Hounded

Joss’s face paled. “Can we not do this here?” he asked, increasingly unsettled. “Please.”

I couldn’t if I wanted to, not with Indy and Sully watching. But delaying gave him a chance to run, and me the task of tracking him through the city. It was much easier to shoot fish in a barrel.

“Hey, buddy, you about done?” someone called from behind me. “Let somebody else have a turn.”

“Chill out. We just got here,” Indy retorted as I spun to see the cause of the commotion.

Judging by the flush on his face and the wine glass in his hand, the barrel-chested man currently staring Indy down had been indulging heavily in the open bar. His nostrils flared, full of hair that tangled in his bushy mustache as he fired back, “I wasn’t talking to you, faggot.”

Indy stomped one combat boot, and his fists balled. In another life, I would have worried about him launching a fiery assault but, like I’d told Sully, this Indy was powerless, weak, and mine to protect.

My lips pulled back in a snarl as I glowered at the drunk man. “If you have a problem with my boyfriend, you can take it up with me.”

The fact that I towered a good five inches over the instigator should have been enough to cow him, but he’d had more than his share of liquid courage, and he rose unsteadily to the challenge.

“Anothercocksucker?” He scoffed. “You don’t scare me.” Taking one shambling step, he thrust his wine glass at Indy. “Hold this.”

Rather than passing the drink, the drunkard tipped his glass sideways, splashing rich red wine onto Indy’s shirt, jacket, and skirt. It dripped down Indy’s bare stomach and puddled on the floor between his feet. The empty glass toppled after it, shattering on the ground with a loud pop.

Somewhere in the background, Sully called for security. She might have said my name, too, knowing what was coming before I did. I lunged at the man, grabbing his suit coat lapel with one hand and bringing my other fist forward and down in a haymaker punch. My knuckles cracked against his teeth, and his head rocked backward, slinging bloody drool through the air, then his body went limp. I dropped him in a heap.

On my left, Indy gaped at the unconscious man, then at me testing my fingers while pain pulsed from my knuckles. I would have hit the bastard again if he had stayed upright long enough. As it was, a single punchwould have to do.

Sully shouted again, and two uniformed officers rushed to the scene. I stepped back, and Indy inserted himself between them and me.

“It wasn’t his fault. He was protecting me,” he hurriedly told the guards.

One of them nodded while stooping to heave the unconscious man off the floor. “We saw the whole thing, kid. You’re good.”

Sully joined us, covering a smile with her hand as she watched the guards drag the drunkard toward the exit. “Damn, Lore. Go off, why don’t you?” She snickered, then turned to Indy. “You all right, sweetheart?”

He glanced down at the splotches of wine staining his outfit. I hadn’t noticed before, but I saw now that he was trembling. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Wish I’d brought a change of clothes, though.”

Sully offered a sympathetic smile. “My apartment’s upstairs. I’m sure I have something you can borrow.”

With the troublemaker removed, Joss’s fan club had filled the gaps in the receiving line and pushed us out into the middle of the room. I glanced back at the artist, who dodged my eyes while shaking hands with a middle-aged woman wearing a newspaper hat.

“Why don’t you take him, Lore?” Sully’s question drew my focus back to her and Indy, who was shrugging out of his denim jacket.

It seemed Joss’s request for a stay of execution had been granted. I took Indy’s coat the second he was free of it and draped it over my arm, then wrapped my other arm around his shoulders. Without a word, I ushered himtoward the back of the room and the door to the stairwell.

Once we crossed the threshold, the din of the party muted. The newfound quiet helped me relax as we climbed the steps to Sully’s flat. I kept my grip on Indy, who stopped shaking by the time we reached the third-floor landing.

Passing my hand over Sully’s door prompted it to open. If Indy noticed the lack of a knob or lock, he didn’t comment. In fact, he didn’t speak at all as we entered the apartment and went straight to Sully’s bedroom.

A rug blanketed the floor around a canopy bed. Mismatched side tables held lamps tented with colorful scarves. Beneath those, a partially burned bundle of sage and rosemary lay in a metal tray along with a stack of books that had made their way in from the living area. A long dresser lined the side wall, heaped with candles, crystals, and a taxidermized crow on a perch.

Indy paused and turned in a circle to survey the wonders on display. All of Sully’s spaces were crowded, borderline cluttered, with a lifetime’s collection of bits and bobs. I wasn’t sure of her age but had determined she was younger than me but older than she looked. Magic maintained her apparent youth and added years to her lifespan.

While Indy marveled, I laid his jacket on the foot of the bed and headed toward the closet.

“You were kind of amazing back there.” He lingered at the edge of the room, stripped to the waist and using his newly removed crop top to mop the wine off his stomach.

“Lucky Sully didn’t throw me out for ruining hershow,” I mumbled. “She’s been looking forward to it, for whatever reason.”

I pushed the vented bifold doors apart, revealing a wardrobe of all the skirts and tank tops Indy could dream of.

Stepping out of his boots, he padded over to peer at the rack of clothing. “You didn’t ruin anything.” He glanced at me. “Is your hand okay?

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