Page 56 of Tempt

And Luca, he makes me feel.

My finger finally manages to hit a familiar name.

He’s a human I occasionally work with in law enforcement. He’s someone who connected with me when I first arrived.

Davis Roan. A human with wide shoulders, thin legs, and a mustache.

I did not like the hair on his lip when I first met him. The twitching, bug-looking thing bothered me more than I cared to admit. Those who educated us about humans did not warn us about this phenomenon before we arrived.

But despite the mustache, Davis proved himself to be a helpful ally. We have worked together for many years, and I know I can trust him to do what I ask without question.

He owes me that much.

“Eissa,” he says when he answers, his voice curt and yet warm. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. I’m assuming this isn’t a friendly call?”

I sigh softly into the phone. “I’m afraid not, Davis. I am sorry.”

He laughs. “It’s fine. What can I do for you?”

Humans. It is very rare to find one so straight and to the point. I appreciate it.

“I need some security footage from traffic cameras near the clinic. Can you assist me?”

I hear something clacking over the receiver, and I know he is typing something on the computer.

“Give me every detail you have. Time, date, and any landmarks.”

I rattle off what I was able to take from Luca’s head as he collapsed in my arms. I can feel the echo of it now: his bones crushing, his cries of pain. I do not want to relive this. But if I’m to find any type of justice for Luca, I must dig into every detail that I can.

“There was a car—something older, small. It was almost an hour ago, maybe a quarter mile from the alley that links to the back service entrance of the clinic. There was a man running and the car hit him.”

“You witnessed this?” Davis asks.

“In…a manner of speaking. I have the human with me now.”

He makes a startled noise. “Is he conscious?”

“No.”

“Alive?”

There’s a punch of relief in my gut when I am able to say, “Yes. I have given him zitha, and he is healing.”

Davis hums in thought, and I can hear his keyboard clacking. “Alright. I’ll see what I can find and send it over. Is this going to be used in a legal capacity?”

“I’m not sure yet.” At the very least, it will be for me to document who did this. To know who will pay for harming my Luca. I will relive each scrape and bruise and broken bone that Luca has suffered and ensure they feel that same pain a hundred-fold.

My hate grows, a twining vine that wraps around my chest and squeezes, and I breathe through it.

“I’ll give you what I can, but it has to be for personal use. If you want to have someone arrested, the rest will have to go through official channels. Just so nothing gets fucked up during trial.”

“I thank you for your help.”

I can hear his smile as he says, “Anytime. And feel free to call just to say hello.”

I make a noise of agreement, though it’s unlikely I will do this. My focus is now on one human, and one human alone. He’s quietly moaning in agony as the herbs I placed on his tongue stitch his wounds together.

Ending the call, I turn my attention back to Luca, and I see that several of his gashes have started to close. His eyes are still shut, and I’m not sure he knows who he’s with or where he is. But it doesn’t matter. I will take care of him and ease him back to consciousness with as much tenderness as I can manage.