Page 23 of Ignited

“Sure,” Matéo said. “We’re having the fucking time of our lives, cooped up with the drunk humans and trigger-happy FBI agents. You owe us an entire case of beer.”

“I’m writing that down,” Bro said. Boomer could almost hear Cisco giving him the finger.

The truck surged as Bro put the hammer down. Karisma started to look a little green. Fuck. What was he supposed to do for her now?

Boomer twisted around, lifted the lid on the tool locker and came up with a flask of whiskey. Score. It might not cure her nausea, but it would help his. He opened it and took a pull.

She reached over and grabbed it. “Hey!” Boomer said.

“I know you were planning on sharing.” She took a gulp.

Bro said, “Anybody throws up in the back of my truck, you’re licking it up.”

“Fuck you,” Karisma muttered, but she gave the flask back.

Boomer took another swig, then capped it and put it down. He was overwhelmed with the feeling that he was supposed to be doing something for her, but damned if he knew what. Of all the things he was good at, taking care of people was at the bottom of the list.

Karisma was clenching her teeth and holding her stomach. He could feel tremors going through her as she tried to hold back the Change. Or the vomit. Or both.

He grabbed her hand, putting pressure on a point in the muscle between her thumb and forefinger.

“What the hell are you doing?” She jerked her hand back. “This isn’t prom night.”

Boomer rolled his eyes. The last time he’d tried to hold hands with a girl in the back of a truck was… Well. Prom night.

“Science,” he said. “It’s an acupressure point that helps calm the nervous system and control nausea. So shut up and let it work, okay?” He took her hand again.

He felt her start to relax, and then the hand Changed into a paw the size of a fucking cereal bowl. “Whoa,” Boomer said, looking down at the two-inch claws.

Karisma smirked. “I’m not like other girls, Prom King.”

He slowly moved his hand and found the new pressure point on the paw. “It works on shifter cats, too.” He’d learned it from one, as a matter of fact.

She snorted, but she didn’t try to claw him to death—and she stopped looking like she was about to throw up. So, yay science.

He was just congratulating himself for doing something right when Cisco came in again on the mobile comms.

“Unfriendlies leaving here, headed your way. Two closed vehicles, approximately a dozen armed men.”

“Acknowledged.”

“You need us to come? We’re in the truck.”

Boomer’s brother looked in the rearview and raised his eyebrows at Boomer in a question.

“Better not,” Boomer said. “We’re hoping to avoid contact.”

Cisco said, “We’ll stand by in case you fuck that up.”

“You’re all heart.”

Boomer’s brother tossed Boomer’s phone back to him, and he entered the direct route from the fight club to Karisma’s cabin into the GPS. Bro had taken a detour to pick them up, and they were having to double back.

“How long before they get there?” his brother said.

“Twelve, maybe fifteen minutes?”

It wasn’t much time.