Something About Harry(13)

“I’m the feminist overreactor aka Nina. Nobody’s gonna hurt you, Mr. IQ. We’re here to help.”

Clearly, Harry decided Nina wouldn’t pass off the plague to him. He put his large hand in her smaller one and let her yank him up. The raw, open wounds on his arms and shoulder from the thrashing he’d been subjected to with his first shift made her wince. Thankfully, he’d heal quickly.

As he swung upward, the sheet parted behind him, showcasing his ass. Damn. She’d known his ass would be one of the best parts about him for all those lunges he did. Mara closed her eyes and swallowed. Not the time to be thinking about Harry’s body parts.

“So, Harry,” Nina said, giving his hand a hearty shake before dropping it and crossing her arms over her chest. “Guess you weren’t lyin’. You really are a werewolf.”

Harry’s broad chest rose and fell before he replied, “So, Nina, ya think?”

“Was that more cocky I heard in your tone, pal?”

Harry shook his head, dark with thick hair, and covered in drywall. “This time, I’m afraid so.”

Nina slapped him on the back. “I’ll let you have it for now because, dude, your life’s gonna suck for a little while, but don’t get comfortable, amigo. Got that shit?”

Harry nodded, assessing, calculating, thinking. “Shit got.”

“Good,” Nina responded. “So now we get into the crazy of what just happened. Hold on.” She paused, rooting around in her hoodie’s front pocket, and pulling out an OOPS pamphlet. “Read this. We’ll wait while you do.” She shoved the rectangle under his nose.

“Nina!” Wanda chastised, snatching the pamphlet midair before Harry was able to grasp it. “This is not how we do things at OOPS. Go. Sit in your corner and shut it. Please.” Wanda shot a finger in the direction of what was left of the other portion of the room.

“I’m streamlining, for Christ’s sake, Wanda. Jesus. We spend too much damn time explaining what happened to the client. That pamphlet does it for us. Less talk, less balk,” she shot back, but wandered off to the other section of the room anyway, leaning against an annihilated countertop.

Brushing at her jacket, Wanda put on her you’ve-got-big-trouble-but-we’re-here-to-help face and smiled at Harry. She stuck out her hand, her simple wedding band gleaming under the fluorescent lights. “I’m Wanda Schwartz-Jefferson—”

Harry’s hand shot up, stopping Wanda mid-introduction. His jaw, usually on the hard side, now like granite. He hiked the sheet tighter around his chest, his fist clenched, knuckles white.

When he spoke, it was as though he had to push the words from his lips. “I heard all about your vampires and genies and werewolves and whatever you did to me while I played unconscious. Or rather, what she claims she did to me.” He hitched his jaw at Mara.

Mara opened her mouth to protest, but slammed it shut when she saw the disdain on his face. Oh, Harry was angry. She was fascinated and appalled. She’d never seen him anything other than affable and pleasant.

Harry, delicious and just a sheet away from naked, held up another finger to ensure no one would interrupt. “Scratch that. I know what was done to me. I felt it. Fought it like I was fighting the idea that some don’t believe man evolved from apes, but the truth is the truth. I know what I just experienced. I don’t necessarily understand it, but I just lived through it. You don’t have to convince me of what’s happened to me. I heard it all. I even saw some of it. I saw things I can’t unsee—if that’s even a word.”

Mara shook her head. “Not a word.”

Harry glared at her, leaving her feeling exposed and above all, stupid. “Unhelpful. That is a word.”

“Sorry,” she muttered, looking down at her feet. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I was just—”

“Baby-making,” he all but accused in Mara’s direction, the veins in his neck popping out with the strain of what she expected was the enormous effort to keep his composure. “I heard that, too. I’m done hearing.”

“Hey!” Nina yelped at him, stomping over the pile of debris, leaving clouds of drywall dust in her wake. She jammed her face in Harry’s. “Don’t be an asshole to her. Aside from what she did—which, if you ask me is totally your fault, you oughta keep better track of your vitaminwater, smart-man. This is a lab. You know, where shit gets tested? For all you know, you coulda been drinking Bigfoot’s piss. So you shoulda looked before you drank.”

Harry’s eyebrow rose. “Sound advice. I’ll take that into consideration and be grateful it wasn’t Chupacabra sperm. Imagine how that would have turned out.”