Chapter 7
HELLSING
“I’m taking you back to my place,” I state flatly.
“What? No!” She stood up so fast the chair groaned, and I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
Grace had always been a live wire. That’s how she caught you.
Sharp and impossibly stubborn yet lived life however the fuck se wanted to.
I always envied that of her. She had no past or curse to blemish her future, not like I did.
“You can’t fight me on this one, Grace. Prez’s orders.”
“The hell I’m listening to either one of you! I have my home, Hellsing. I’m safe there and I don’t want or need to go anywhere else.” I watched her grow angrier by the second, and I had to admit she was twice as pretty when she was mad.
“Too bad.” I moved before she could think of arguing with me. Her keys disappeared into my back pocket with the casual theft of a man who’d been around his share of barstools and pickpockets. I reached for her purse next. “Let’s go.”
She crossed her arms, making sure to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground. “I would rather go to the deepest, most hellish of hells, before I go anywhere with you.”
I smirked. “Honey, you wouldn’t last an hour.”
“Then I’ll stay here,” she stated firmly.
“With the windows shot out, and that stench of incense and piss?” The place smelled like a rundown homeless shelter. There was no way I was leaving her here.
“I don’t care,” she replied, not caring in the least bit.
“Anyone can get in here and loot the place. Grab your stuff. Rooster and Styx will be here later to board up the place.”
“I don’t need prospects or members around my place…” she bit out.
“Stop being so damn rebellious,” I grabbed at her arm and she yanked it away with such force, I was sure she hurt herself.
““No.” She pushed at my hands, and I attempted to go in again.
“Goddamn it, Grace.” I tried grabbing her again and once again, she shoved at me. We went at this for a solid two minutes before my frustration kicked in. I finally wrapped my arm around her waist and hauled her against me.
“Get off me!” She yelled, slamming her palms against my chest.
“Why do you have to fight me at every turn?” I asked, trying to calm her.
“Why do you have to control everything and everyone around you?” Her eyes flashed red, with the kind of heat that could start a fire in any man.
For a second, whatever this was between us made us take a pause and we stood there, like two idiots, staring at one another, our lips only an inch apart, our breaths mingling. I wanted to close that gap between us so badly, but I held back. I was always holding back.
She shifted against me, taking me out of that trance, and then shoved at my chest once again.
“Whatever game you’re playing at, I’m not doing this with you.” Her words were filled with a deep refusal that hit a little harder than they should have, so I did the next best thing.
She yelped as I slid my hands down to her hips, picked her up and slung her over my shoulder. I had to hold her steady as her feet flailed and she writhed against me, trying to slide off me.
“Good to know. I’ll make sure to tie you up nice and tight to my bed. Either way, you’re staying with me tonight, babe. Whether you like it or not.”
Grabbing her purse on my way out, I carried her across the shop feeling her fists pounding against my back as the air filled with a stream of Louisiana curses.
I couldn’t help the grin that pulled at my face.
If I was honest, this was the part I live for.
That fight in her that turned to heat, the anger that melted into something worse and yet better.
“Say what you want, sweetheart. I ain’t letting you go.”
“If you do not put me down, Hellsing. I promise, I will murder you in your sleep.”
Ignoring her threat of violence, I stepped through the doorway.
Outside, the Quarter was in its usual ragged glory with that bone-deep smell of old music and bad decisions.
The sun was setting, and Rooster and Styx were already waiting.
Both of them had beers in hand, and the plywood and tools they brought with them, were placed against the wall.
The rain had slowed, but the streets still glistened under the fading streaks of sun.
“Bout time,” Rooster said, glancing at the woman I had slung over my shoulder. “You draggin’ her, or she walkin’ on her own?”
“She’s comin’ with me,” I said. “And if she keeps fightin’, I might leave her out here for the Scorpions.”
Powertrain was leaning against his bike, smirking. “You’re gonna sell your witch to the Scorpions? That’s cold, Hellsing.”
“Keep talkin’, and you’ll be next,” I shot back.
Grace groaned and kicked against me. “Put me down right now!”
I shifted her higher on my shoulder. “You’re stayin’ with me tonight, Grace. Don’t make me say it again.”
I carried her to my bike and set her down just long enough to grab her helmet. She glared at me, arms crossed, but I didn’t give her a chance to argue.
“Put that on,” I said.
“I already told you I’m not goin’ anywhere with you.”
“Well, you’re not stayin’ here.” I met her eyes. “Not after all the shit that’s gone down. So you either come with me, or I’ll call your daddy and see what he has to say.”
For a second, I thought she’d keep pushing, but then her shoulders dropped and she let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. But I’m not staying long.”
“Didn’t ask you to,” I muttered, handing her the helmet.
“You boys need anything?” I called back to Styx and Rooster who were discussing quietly how they were going to place the boards.
“We got it!” They shouted and I turned back to my task at hand.
Revving up the bike, we took off. The ride back to my house was short and quiet.
The air smelled of fresh grass after a rainstorm, and the city was slowly waking up.
She clung to me tightly, her hands pressed against my stomach, and I could feel the tension in her fingers. She was angry, but she was scared too.
When we reached my place, I parked the bike in the side lot and killed the engine. The world went still except for the faint rumble of thunder in the distance.
Inside, the air was warm. It smelled like leather, coffee, and the faint burn of motor oil that never really left the place. I’d kept it simple, dark wood floors, old leather couch, a couple framed photos that didn’t mean much to anyone but me.
Grace walked in as if she were inspecting the old place. She took in the walls, the shelf of helmets, the patch jackets hanging by the door. “Charming,” she muttered, brushing her hair off her shoulder.
“Didn’t invite you for the décor,” I said, locking the door behind us.
She turned on me then, eyes flashing. “You could’ve just told me you were worried instead of playing caveman in front of your friends.”
I stepped closer, my voice low. “You think this is about my pride? You were a target last night, Grace. The Scorpions don’t miss twice.”
Her jaw tightened, but her voice dropped. “You think I don’t know how dangerous this is? My father raised me for this kind of world. I can handle myself.”
I shook my head. “You’ve got his fire; I’ll give you that. But right now, that’s not enough.”
“Then teach me,” she snapped. “Don’t just drag me around like I’m some damsel in distress.”
I let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “You don’t want me teachin’ you, sweetheart. Not my kind of lessons.”
Her lips curved, part smirk, part challenge. “You underestimate me.”
“Not even a little,” I said, watching her settle onto the edge of the couch. “You just don’t listen.”
“Maybe I don’t take orders well,” she said, eyes locking on mine.
“Then we’re gonna have a problem,” I said, my voice dropping lower.
For a few seconds, neither of us said a word. The rain outside picked up again, soft against the windows. She looked away first, her fingers brushing the sleeve of her jacket where a bit of ash still clung from the shop.
“What happens now?” she asked quietly.
“Now, you stay put. You eat somethin’, you rest. Tomorrow, we deal with the shop.”
“And you?”
“I’ll stay up and keep watch. The bedroom is down the hall,” I said.
“No, Hellsing. I mean, what are you thinking of doing about Bael?”
“First, I need to figure out why the hell the Scorpions went after you in the first place. I’ll deal with the demons later.”
She tilted her head, and I could tell by the look on her face, that she was trying to read me. “You sound like my father.”
“That’s ‘cause I promised him I’d keep you safe.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I saw something flicker in her expression. Surprise, maybe. But she didn’t press.
Instead, she sank back against the couch, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. “You always this bossy?”
I smirked, taking off my jacket. “You always this stubborn?”
She gave me a small smile. “Always had to be, did you not meet my father?”
I poured two glasses of whiskey, handed her one, and leaned against the table. She took it without hesitation. For a minute, the silence between us wasn’t heavy, just steady. But it was familiar.
Maybe too familiar.
Because for the first time in a long damn while, I wasn’t thinking about demons or deals or promises I’d made to ghosts. I was thinking about her.
And that was a dangerous place to be.
“Come on.”
I urged her to follow me down the short hall to the bedroom. The place wasn’t fancy, just clean enough to sleep in and close enough to reach my gun if I needed it. I pulled open the closet, grabbed a set of clean sheets and a towel, and tossed them onto the bed.
“Bathroom’s through there,” I said. “You can shower, get some rest. I’m only a few feet away if you need me.”
She hesitated for a second, like she wanted to argue, but then just nodded. “Thanks,” she said quietly, heading for the bathroom.
I waited until I heard the water running before I sat on the edge of the bed. My hands dragged down my face, exhaustion clawing at me, but it wasn’t just that. The silence made it worse.