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“How much will it hurt to cleanse the bite mark?” Olaf asked.
“Like pouring acid in a wound,” Edward said.
“Like shoving a red-hot blade against the wound, except it’s liquid so it’s more like pouring molten metal on the skin,” I said.
“That is a great deal of pain.”
“Yeah, I’d hoped to never have to do it again.”
“It’s usually done over a series of days,” Edward said.
“But just like last time I need this cleansed before dark, because he’ll get more powerful once the sun sets.”
“Last time you held still for me to do it; I think Deimos will force you to fight this time,” Edward said.
“Agreed.”
“One of us will have to hold you or pin you down while the other one pours the holy water.”
“Even through a gag I’m going to scream, so better warn the other cops, or they’ll come running.”
“It made you scream last time?” Olaf said.
“Oh, yeah.”
“I would like no gag, if possible,” Olaf said.
“You say that now, but we did it in a small bathroom, my ears were ringing from her screams.”
“I’m sorry, Edward, you never told me.”
“If you could be that brave, then I wasn’t going to complain about my ears ringing from the sound of abject pain.” He smiled a little as he said it. It helped me smile back. We’d done this once; we could do it again.
“I’ll pour the holy water, Olaf will hold,” Edward said.
“Why can’t you hold?”
“Because you’re more than human strong, and he’s a shapeshifter and I’m not.”
“Shit,” I said.
Olaf came up behind me and asked, “Are you ready?”
I looked at Edward.
“We’re losing daylight.”
I nodded. “Do it.”
Olaf wrapped his arms around me from behind like Richard had, but luckily Olaf was nearly a foot taller than Richard, so my cuffed hands weren’t as close to a certain area of his body as they had been with Richard. I was happy with that, but Olaf was still pressed as close as he’d ever been to me, and my hands were already tied behind my back and he preferred his women tied down. He wasn’t really doing anything I could complain about yet, so why was my heart already beating faster?
“Guys, are we sure this is a good division of labor?” I asked.
“I have done nothing yet, but you are already afraid,” Olaf said, stroking his free hand through my hair, exposing my neck and the bite marks.
“Tell him the truth, Anita,” Edward said, pulling out a vial of holy water from the equipment bag he’d rucked in from his car.
“I already fit your victim profile of petite dark-haired women. Now I’m handcuffed, weaponless, and in your arms. Why shouldn’t I be afraid?”
