Because in that instant, my blood had been Jean-Claude's, and his mine. One of our fellow hunters was still in prison for doing his job before the paperwork came through. Teddy had started commenting on how much cussing I did. Nothing human, nothing illegal, promise.
Calmed me because he'd spent centuries perfecting his calmness. He slid his fingertips just inside my mouth, playing along the edge of my lips. It had no shape that my eye could see, no weight, nothing to touch, nothing to hold, but it was there, and it was real, and it was me, mine, sort of. I'm fine, Zerbrowski.
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