I was supposed to think of good things, and for the life of me, everything ended badly. I know, but maybe Nathaniel could go? What? Go down to a bar in maybe a bad section of town and arm wrestle a werewolf so new he can't drink safely? I shook my head. There are safe words, and once that agreed-upon word is uttered, then it stops, it's over. That's the Anita I've come to love and know.
A woman with skin white as bone, lips red as blood, and hair like golden spiderwebs. I kissed his neck, and he made a small noise, not of protest, but of eagerness. That'd be nice, he said. Yes, Requiem said from the back, yes you have.
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