Chapter Thirty-Six: Manila Hurts

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Faye was out cold as soon as her head hit the pillow, but sleep was the furthest thing from Cyrus' mind. Even with her curled into him, he found it impossible to shake his unease. He began second guessing leaving Richard's body behind, though it seemed like the only option at the time. He found himself wondering if it would have been wiser to have disposed of it.

Cyrus knew that Dmitri would realize he knew Richard had betrayed him. He would not have killed him otherwise, but then again, neither position would really be strengthened by that knowledge. They were out a cohort, and he had more curiosities to address, like how Dmitri got involved, and what happened to Hector.

Then there was the matter of the hard drive he needed to dissect and the phone numbers he needed to track. But, what had him really anxious was thinking about Faye's reaction to it all. He couldn't imagine how she was going to respond when she woke clearheaded and they revisited the incidents from the night before, or what it was going to do to her when she had that damn manila folder in her hands. He had been so sure it was the right thing only hours before, but right then, he was filled with doubt.

It was just after dawn when Cyrus reached his breaking point. His thoughts were drowning him.  He needed to do something, take some kind of action, so he kissed Faye and slipped from the bed without disturbing her. He paused on his way to the bathroom and looked out the window noting there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It would have been a nice day to take Faye out exploring under different circumstances. As it stood, he'd be lucky if Faye got over the bomb he was going to hand her.

He took a quick shower, and by the time he was out and dressed in his usual jeans and a tee, he could hear Elsie moving around. He found her in the kitchen taping her fingertips on the countertop, bobbing her head to some internal tune while she waited for a pot of coffee to finish brewing.

"Hey," she said, sparing him a glance before looking back to the coffee pot like it wouldn't fill if she wasn't watching.

"Hey," Cyrus replied, then inhaled deeply, catching a rather strong whiff of wolf.

"How was your trip," she asked.

"Eventful, and your evening?"

"Eventful," she replied, amused.

He noted the three empty wine bottles on the counter and said, "So you got Faye drunk and shifted in my house?"

She looked at him sharply, narrowing her baby blues into slits, correcting, "She got herself drunk."

"Fair enough, but was this before or after you showed her your other side," he asked, uncertain if he needed to be angry.

Both of Elsie's hands went straight to her hips and she said defensively, "Before you give me any shit about it, I'll have you know, she thought it was cool.  She thinks I'm neat."

"Neat," he questioned.

"Yes, she was fascinated, and since we're asking questions... why is there a towel in that bathroom with your blood on it?"

He shrugged.

"Well, whatever happened, you've obviously recovered."

"Yes, and you're certain Faye has as well?"

"Faye has what," she questioned.

"Recovered from your display. She fainted the first time I showed her my fangs."

Elsie gave a little snort of a laugh and said, "There was no fainting, and I assure you the only thing she needs to recover from is the wine. If I didn't have the metabolism I do, I know I'd be hurting about now too."

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