“Ugh!” Bonnie screamed, struggling not to drive her fangs into him again on the surge of carnal rage that was even then demanding she feed. She scrabbled to her feet, panting, fisting her hands at her sides as she scowled down at the motionless, bleeding man on the ground.
A couple months ago, her first thought would have been whether or not some passerby would see her assaulting a dude into unconsciousness. Now, her first thought was whether or not she should beat him completely to death or actually waste her time trying to remove the blood-binding.
“Thor’s whores,” she growled, reaching down to grab him by the ankle after a minute of debate. “You’re lucky I’m an ‘addlebrained woman’ and not a sword-flinging Japanese hardass.” Then she started walking back towards Fifth Avenue, scowling down the two passersby who happened to catch sight of her along the way. They saw her, saw what she was dragging, and quickly found somewhere else to be.
Bonnie shoved the unconscious unicorn into a dumpster, flopped the lid shut, and then dropped a heavy cement planter on top of it to trap him inside. Then she went to get her car.
I need to get him to Willow, she thought, thinking of the tome she had buried with Tl'oghk'etnaeyen in the woods outside the Deshka Landing. On the Use of Blood had helped her with cutting out Buðlungr’s blood-binding, so she didn’t see why this one would be any different.
Though… She glanced again at the unconscious man’s blue-black blood-web through the metal wall of the dumpster. The tiny red runes marking his veins looked…bad. Every time her eyes caught on them, she got a twisting of unease. Tl'oghk'etnaeyen definitely hadn’t had runes like that in his blood.
Doesn’t matter, she thought stubbornly. I can still save him. I just have to figure out how to get him to Willow.
…which meant she had to figure out a way to keep him from going full dread unicorn in the middle of her passenger seat halfway between Chugiak and Wasilla. Still watching him through the dumpster, she pulled out her phone and called Theo.
“Yeah, we’re on the way,” Theo said, by way of introduction. He sounded harried and on the edge, like she felt.
“I have to subdue a unicorn,” Bonnie said. “How do I do that?”
Theo laughed. “You ain’t gonna catch a unicorn, sweetie.”
Inside the dumpster, she heard a moan.
“Oh, I caught it all right,” Bonnie said. “How do I get it to stop attacking me long enough to undo a blood binding?”
Theo was quiet for a really long time, then he said, “Have you tried handcuffs?”
“No, you didn’t see this thing, Theo,” Bonnie said. “Like a freakin’ Clydesdale when it’s in horse-form…”
“Bonnie, your venom’s not gonna work on a—”
“I discovered that, thank you,” Bonnie snapped. “That’s why I beat him half to death. Just answer my fucking question. How do I keep the dude from destroying my brand new Subaru while I try to save his life?”
“Um… I’d go with handcuffs. Iron’s the only thing that can really hold a unicorn down. You slap some iron on its wrists, he’s fucked.”
Bonnie considered, thinking of how Björn had been humbled by a little silver. “You mean it can’t shapeshift when it’s wearing steel?”
“Iron’s like kryptonite to those flower-loving ass-pansies. Are you sure Angus is fey, Bonnie? I watched him shit on the ground for Freyja’s sake.”
“Handcuffs,” she said, thinking of the dead officer. “Thanks.”
“Bonnie, wai—”
Knowing she didn’t have much time until the unicorn woke up completely, Bonnie hung up and jogged out of the alley and around the corner, to the putrid brown stain that was the former Officer Davidson.
His handcuffs, she discovered, had been crushed into broken, twisted metal shards. Grimacing, she looked down, saw the tiny lens of the bodycam peeking back at her, then, frowning, bent down and plucked it from the corpse.
Aiding and abetting, she thought, tucking the little black device into her pocket. No, your Honor, I know it looked like I took the bodycam from the officer’s corpse, but that security footage is grainy, and what I was really doing was checking for a pulse… She went back around the corner and listened.
There was another thump and a groan from inside the dumpster.
I don’t have time, she thought. Gotta think of something…
Where to buy handcuffs… Where to buy…
Bonnie flinched.
A few blocks down the street, The Castle sex shop stood in all of its blocky, former McDonalds gray glory.
Immediately, she felt her face flush to nuclear proportions. She’d never been in a sex shop, not once, and really didn’t relish the idea of finding out what was inside.
Fuckkk, she thought, glancing again at the groaning dumpster. “Dude, you better fucking appreciate this when I’m done with you.”
Then, because she knew the dumpster wouldn’t hold him for long, she took off at a jog for the Castle.
Oh hey sir, I just want to buy some handcuffs. Like right now, I’m running out of time. Thanks.
Her face felt like it was approximately the temperature of the sun as she yanked open the front door of the shop and stepped inside. Immediately, her guts twisted. Colorful sex toys of every shape and size adorned every square inch of surface space, and a bright-eyed young guy with blond hair and a goatee looked up from his phone. “Hey there!”
“Handcuffs,” Bonnie blurted.
Because that didn’t sound creepy at all.
But the man didn’t bat an eye. “On the wall over there.” He pointed to the back of the store.
“Thanks,” she gulped, trying to keep her eyes forward as she hurried past the racks and racks of colorful dildos, high heeled shoes, whips and black leather…
Oh god I think I’m gonna be sick, she thought, her vision going blurry with her sudden bout of nausea. She went to the proffered rack, grabbed the first set of handcuffs she could find, and took it back to the front desk.
“That’s it?” the guy behind the counter asked.
“Oh for sure,” she managed, handing him her debit card.
“You don’t look so good,” the guy mentioned. “First time in here?”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Bonnie, whose eyes had caught on a black corset almost identical to the one the feylord had used on her, swallowed hard and jerked her eyes back to the cashier. “What?”
He grinned and gave a knowing chuckle. “Twenty bucks.”
Bonnie, who had expected handcuffs to cost more, merely nodded and hastily took her receipt and the proffered opaque plastic bag. “Thanks,” she blurted, shoving her debit card back into her wallet and all but bolted for the front door. She was already back to the dumpster, inhaling huge lungfuls of fresh alley air, when she pulled out the handcuffs and realized they were pink and fuzzy.
“What the fuck?” she thought, staring down at them in horror. Warily, she glanced up at the general direction of the Castle, trying to determine if she had time to go get a pair that didn’t look like it had just come out of a furry convention.
“Let me out of here!” came a muffled shout from inside the dumpster.
“Thor’s hairy chest,” she said. She glanced again at the handcuffs. They looked like something a Barbie would put on. Nervously, she Googled the number to the Castle and, when the goateed guy picked up, she said, “Hey, uh, these handcuffs I just bought… Will they hold up in a struggle?”
The man on the other end laughed. “Yeah, you got a good pair. Some of the shit on the shelves is really chinsy, but that brand’s pretty good. At least they can’t pop it loose without a key…”
Bonnie swallowed hard, not even having realized that had been an option. “It’s pretty important he…doesn’t get out. I’ll come back if you think there’s something better…”
In the background, the unicorn was pounding against the metal, shouting about someone coming to get him.
The cashier chuckled again. “Nah, that’s the same brand that makes the cop gear. They just sell more if they make them comfy.”
“Kay, thanks.” Bonnie hung up, biting her lip as she glanced down at the pink fuzzy Barbie cuffs. In the dumpster, the unicorn was starting to screech like an angry cat.
“Okay, fuck!” She yanked the fuzzy cuffs out of their packaging and, dropping the keys in her pocket, went trash-pandaing for the unicorn.
Throwing the lid off, cracking the concrete planter on the sidewalk in her haste to get the lid open, Bonnie jumped in on him as quickly as she could, catching him unawares as he held his eye up to block the sudden brightness.
Before he had a chance to upform and drive that pesky face-spear through her belly, Bonnie grabbed him by the bloody scalp and slammed his head a few times against the metal rim of the dumpster, then, as the blond pretty-boy groaned and went limp in her hands, flipped him over on the bags of trash and slapped the cuffs on his wrists.
Then, as he was still moaning and delirious, she pulled him up and hefted him back out of the dumpster, where he connected with the pavement with a little cry of pain, but stayed there in a naked huddle.
Bonnie leapt out of the dumpster and automatically slammed the lid shut behind her. Because, you know, it was Alaska and bears liked unattended trash.
“Come on,” Bonnie muttered, grabbing the guy by the armpit and hauling his naked body to his feet. She slapped the plastic bag to his crotch and got him walking.
“Where are we going?” the man babbled. “Are these iron? Oh gods of the underworld, they’re iron, you Thirdlander bitch!” He started yanking at his arms ineffectually. “How dare you put me in iron, mortal?! What filthy, deranged rodents climbed your family tree? Do you have any idea who I am?”
“It’s Bonnie, and nice to meet you too,” she growled, steering him to her car and shoving him inside as a couple surprised-looking tourists passed by in a Winnebago. Then she locked the door, strode back to her side, yanked 1001 Ways to Kick Ass, Illustrated from the floorboards and slapped it on his crotch to hold down the plastic bag. “Leave that,” she snapped, when he immediately moved to flip it off his groin. There must have been something in her tone of voice, because the unicorn’s big blue eyes blinked at her and he stopped trying to roll out of her car. Pointedly, Bonnie reached across his lean chest, grabbed the seatbelt, and, pulling the strap across his body, jammed it into the lock. “I’m going to help you,” she growled. “But I’m late for my appointment with my psychologist and you just killed a cop, so try to tone down the holier-than-thou bullshit while I save your ungrateful ass and get go my mental health check, mmkay?”
The unicorn glowered at her as they rode back to Jessie’s office, his gaze alternating between righteous blue and terrified half-black. He didn’t, however, continue cursing her heritage.
Bonnie pulled them into Jessie’s office parking lot and sat there for several minutes, taking deep breaths. She’d just watched a unicorn kill a cop, and then helped him afterwards. They were probably even then looking for her, using road cams and store surveillance to hunt down the getaway driver of the cop killer.
Oh yeah? a jaded part of her thought. What crime would they charge you with, exactly? Watching a unicorn rot his body to death in two seconds? Because that one’s totally on the books.
The unicorn, for his part, seemed to be in one of his saner moments, because he was peering at her suspiciously. “You’re a virgin?”
She flushed, feeling her face purple. “My name’s Bonnie.”
“How can you be a virgin, beast?” His nostrils were flaring like he was smelling it. “You’re a vampire.” Like he was saying she was infested with syphilitic lice, and oh, by the way, how did her scalp not itch?
Bonnie narrowed her eyes at him, then glanced up the steps to the non-descript door set into the office building Jessie had rented ‘for anonymity.’ With her cash. Because she’d been unconscious. After killing people. Without a word, she unbuckled, threw off her seatbelt, kicked open her door, got out, slammed it, stalked around the front of the vehicle, unlocked and yanked open his door, then wordlessly unbuckled him. Scowling down at him, she waited in silence.
“I refuse to copulate with a beast,” he said, twisting his wrists in the fuzzy pink cuffs. “I’d rather slaughter my firstborn on the altar of an unholy Thirdlander blood magus than—”
Bonnie slammed the door on him and started walking away.
She’d gone several feet before she heard a muffled, “Wait!” from behind her. Bonnie straightened, taking a deep breath, staring straight ahead. Letting it out through her teeth, she walked back to the Subaru and yanked the door back open.
The unicorn warily got out of the seat, watching her nervously. Bonnie slammed the car door too hard behind him, making it rock. She stepped forward, forcing him back against the car, glaring up at him. “The name,” she gritted out, “is Bonnie. And if you want to survive the next twenty minutes, you’re going to stop calling me a beast.” At that moment, she didn’t care who saw her facing off against a cop-killing naked creep wearing fuzzy pink handcuffs in the middle of Anchorage. One more syllable about her sex life and she was going to strangle him.
The unicorn frowned at her as if she’d said oranges came in pink. “But you are a…” He trailed off at the way her eyes narrowed, swallowing hard. More subduedly, he muttered, “I think it’s helping to be around you, whatever your unholy heritage.”
Bonnie squinted at him. “What?”
“Your virginity, even as a bea—” he coughed suddenly. “even as a vampire, it seems to have a stabilizing effect. Which is surprising, considering your unfortunate heritage.”
Bonnie scowled at him long enough to make him look away and fidget behind his back. Without another word, she turned, stalked towards the office, and, not waiting to see if he would follow, she yanked the door open and stepped inside, letting the portal slide shut behind her.
“Hey Bonnie,” Jessie said, grinning up at her from the waiting area sofa. He lowered a book titled Ancient Viking Customs and Lore to the cushion beside him and stood. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” Bonnie said. “I feel like beating a helpless man to death with his own swinging dick.”
Jessie nodded soberly. “Okay, come tell me all abou—”
The naked unicorn interrupted by prying open the door, grunting and having to scrabble sideways with his bound hands to turn the latch. He stumbled inside, his pale cod dangling, giving the latch a nervous, blue-eyed blink as it clicked shut behind him. Then he looked up.
“Oh.” Jessie squinted at the naked newcomer, then at Bonnie. “You meant that literally.”
“Yes I did,” Bonnie said, grabbing the unicorn by the scruff and dragging him inside, then dumping him on the couch, where he scowled up at her. “You got some rope?”
Jessie blinked at her. “I don’t generally carry around coils of rope—”
“That faewire will work,” Bonnie said. “It still on the desk?” Without asking, Bonnie strode into the session room, grabbed the tangle of faewire, then, as Elek argued and struggled, wrapped it around him and the couch and tied it in a bow. “Right,” she said, as she straightened, leaving the unicorn tied to the couch, “You ready to start?”
Jessie blinked at the unicorn bound to his waiting area sofa, then glanced curiously back at Bonnie. “Is this…like…a normal thing for you?”
“Lately? So normal I could puke,” Bonnie said. “Theo will be here in a couple hours to feed me. Until then, this guy’s gonna crash on your couch while you talk me out of fleeing to Jamaica. He just dissolved a cop because someone blood-bound him and I need to drive back to Willow to get the book to remove the binding, but I’m feeling really damn close to a breakdown and I just wanna talk about how much I hate Björn for a few minutes before I have to spend a couple more harrowing hours hoping the troopers don’t notice the struggling naked guy handcuffed in my car, okay?”
Jessie glanced uncertainly at the unicorn, who was cursing and starting to chew on the couch.
“Great.” Bonnie stalked wordlessly past him, into the session room. She was just starting to stretch out on the nice couch, relaxing into the plush leather, when her phone started to ring. She almost didn’t look at it. Almost.
Very reluctantly, she pulled it from her pocket and looked at the Caller ID.
Dave Caudill. It was a Washington number.
Yawning, Bonnie silenced the call and tucked the phone away. She didn’t need to deal with some guy calling her about an extended warranty right now. This was her time…