Frost Bite

Chapter 9

Jack

Josie and Ryan have been here for two weeks. Two weeks in my house, creating dust in the corners and leaving hair in the shower drain. Josie insisted that I go and get her things like shampoo and conditioner and hairspray in the precise brands specified to me.

Things like this make me glad for online shopping.

Ryan, at least, hasn't made any demands. But I think that's probably because he's more concerned with the fine line we walk and the careful balance of power between us. When Josie is there she acts as a buffer.

But I think if Ryan and I were to have a conversation alone things would get very interesting. Probably too interesting for his little mortal brain to handle.

Of course, his brain hasn't exploded yet. So I guess that's something.

He is, however, starting to get bored. Complacent. The fact that he hasn't been attacked again doesn't seem to – in his mind – have anything to do with the fact that he hasn't been outside in two weeks. In his brain, it's because there is no danger. It's something of my making to keep Josie here for nefarious purposes.

Like I'm twirling this black mustache I didn't know I had.

Josie, on the other hand, is aggravatingly curious. Asking me questions I don't even want to imagine the answers to. Asking me what does running a mile have to do with her ability to punch someone – and I told her that obviously it was because she should run away first, being small and mortal – and why the hell she can't just rely on a knee to the groin to solve her problems. And what do I mean she can't have a bowl of ice cream she just ran four miles.

Despite all that, however, she's horribly amusing. Unlike Ryan, she seems to understand that all the ice in my voice and demeanor is all bluster. Unlike Ryan, she seems to have an endless fuse with no temper at the end. She just shrugs it off and tells me to piss off or suggests something equally offensive back to me.

It makes me smile.

She doesn't complain about the work I put her through and she's already stronger, faster, quicker. She's naturally athletic, despite her cerebral tendencies.

"Jack, don't you think it's time I actually learned to punch somebody?" she asks, raising her eyebrows at me and folding her arms across her chest.

There's a word for her expression.

I think it's something like condescension. Only slightly less offensive.

"Trying to tell me what to do?" I ask, and I step closer to her because mortals have a thing about personal space.

Josie just steps closer, too, rising to the unspoken challenge in my physical presence. "Politely," she assures me.

I try not to smile and I'm pretty sure I fail.

She surprises me.

Ryan is afraid of me. And I think that's the real reason he can't forgive Josie's friendliness toward me. Because he worries I'll do something to her. And part of me wonders if he should be worried. Because when I look at her something pits inside my gut and I don't know what it is and it's so distracting. Like an itch I can't scratch and it's absolute murder.

"Well, since you're telling me politely I guess I can show you," I say and I'm not able to hide the amusement in my voice.

"What's the first rule?" I ask.
 Josie smiles ironically. "Don't talk about fight club."

"I'm serious. What's the first rule of fighting?"
 "Keep moving?"

I smile frostily. "Yes, keep moving. In the opposite direction. You're five foot three, a hundred and fifteen pounds, with no fighting experience. Run away. As fast as you can. That's the first rule."