In Sickness, Health, and Full moons

Chapter Fourteen [Azrael]

She stripped off Tanner's shirt and turned on the shower, cleaning herself as best she could using the hotel soap and a washcloth she ran under the water to soap and de-soap as needed. After far too long, she shut the shower off and put Tanner's shirt back on again, satisfied by her attempt to get the hotel grime off of herself. Her hair, however, would stay in the nightmare of a bun she'd put it in until she could wash it properly.

As Azrael slowly made her way back toward the bed, a knock on the door made her stop. Right, I never gave Tanner a key. That was stupid. Using the wall to limp toward the door, Azrael realized she never doubted that he'd return. That anxiety from earlier, so sensitive it sparked up when he left her eyesight, had vanished entirely. Tanner was her husband and he wasn't going anywhere without her, she knew that now. Quite the opposite, he'd returned hopefully with heaven in a little to-go container.

With a deep breath to steady her, Azrael pushed off the wall to take a few steps back and twist the doorknob. As soon as she opened the door just a crack, Tanner shoved the rest of the way in, the force of the door throwing Azrael off balance and to the ground. She barely managed to avoid hitting her head, instead she hit the ground hard on her side, the impact sending an agonizing jolt up her body and forcing a pained gasp out of her mouth. If the fall hadn't popped some stitches in her shoulder, it certainly fucking jarred them.

God, the room had already been spinning just from being on her feet and now Azrael had to take a few seconds just to orient herself enough to look up to the doorway to curse out her stupid husband.

Except the tall figure towering over her wasn't Tanner.

"Christ, Azrael, are you alright?" Alan Katzmann, her fucking boss, stepped in and shut the door behind him before crouching down next to her. "What happened to you?"

Several things ran through Azrael's head at once. The first being a very long stream of curses, the second being the realization that she had no pants on and that was her boss and third being screams of absolute horror considering the state he found her in. This is bad. This is very, very bad.

"What are you doing here?" She asked instead of answering any of his questions, trying to keep the strain out of her voice as she used the wall in an attempt to drag herself back to her feet. Without an invitation or permission, Alan surged forward to wrap one of his arms around her waist.

"I was worried about you. Apparently with good reason to be", he said softly as he transferred most of her weight onto him. "Where would you like me to set you down?"

"Bed." Azrael said without thinking, wincing as he slowly walked her across the hotel room. He used both of his very cold hands, one around her waist and the other around the backs of her bare thighs to lift her and place her onto the mess of blankets she'd left. Trying her hardest not to squirm at her fucking boss touching her half dead, half naked body, Azrael refused to make eye contact with him until he pulled his hands back. She hoped he couldn't tell how nauseous she suddenly felt.

Alan sat down next to her on the bed, dark eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Who did this to you?" One of his hands reached for her face.

Azrael shrunk back a little before his fingers ran along the gauze Tanner had taped to her forehead. Right, right. Doctor. Wound. Makes sense. While he distracted himself with her injuries, Azrael blurted out the first lie she thought of, one that wasn't quite a lie. "I was attacked by a dog." Werewolf actually. Werewolf who happens to be my husband. Dog was true enough.

"A dog?"

The slight nod she gave made her head hurt. "Big dog."

Alan thankfully pulled his hands away from her face, "You said you were sick."