“Could you not screw me over?” Dey stared back at him, not catching his emphasis, before letting out an exasperated sigh and halfheartedly throwing her hands up. “Look, guy, I just want some weed and tickets to see Beyoncé
and Jay, mostly
Beyoncé, that don’t involve me selling an organ on the black market. Could you steal me some tickets? Or point me in the right direction? I’ll pay you a finders fee. Well, depending on the ticket costs.” She offered the slightest pout.
“You’re barking up the absolute wrong tree for all of this. When I say drugs, I mean actual drugs, not weed.” Mostly because he dealt to things that weren’t human and weed wasn’t usually strong enough for most non-humans he dealt with. It damn sure wasn’t for the demon he sold to on a regular basis. “Completely different circles of criminals, sweets.”
“Well…after he threatened my life, numerous times, excuse me for being slightly weary of him and his family.” She mumbled, still gazing regretfully at her hand. Healing it would take time, or at least entrusting her hands in the care of a healer she didn’t quite know. She was an idiot.
“Can you at least be helpful anddo something?”
“An’ ya’ve known me longer ‘n tha’ an’ I ain’ ne’er threatened yer life. Judas an’ I are differen’ mixes. My ma’s a tricks’er.” He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so exhausted talking to anyone that wasn’t family but this was getting pretty damn close to that level.
“I could take ya ta my aun’, but I don’ think she’d appreciate ya takin’ a swing a’ her either.”
“Does it matter?! Look at this!” Ara seethed, cradling her mangled hand. The searing pain had caused tears to flood her eyes, and she was almost certain that she had broken at least some of her fingers.
“—God.” A small whimper of pain escaped her as she observed her digits. “You’re just as much trouble as him.”
“Yer the one tha’ hi’ me! Ain’ no one tellin’ ya ta go ‘round hi’in’ people tha’ ain’ human!” he countered, tossing his hands up in exasperation. He couldn’t do much for her hand, he wasn’t a healer, but he knew Nia could if he called her. Hell, even Evangeline could help, but he knew she wouldn’t.
“Oy, don’ go comparin’ me ta my cousin. Tha’s jus’ a low blow.”
“Motherfu—” The girl swore fiercely, shaking out her hand. A bright purple bruise was already blooming across her knuckles. She hadn’t expected the consequences of her action to be so immediate. The punch had been somewhat of a surprise to her—a knee-jerk impulsive decision she hadn’t entirely thought through. It seemed that the hit had been a shock to the other as well. They were reeling from the force, and she was far smaller than her victim.
“Your face broke my hand!”
Chayton stumbled back, rubbing his jaw and staring at her for a moment. He hadn’t really expected her to actually take a swing at him and it had startled him enough for his markings to shine through. A loss of control he never really had to deal with.
ofviolentdeath 