Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

N A T
W
Ha!
hen Kage knocks on my door at six, I’m calm
and ready.
I’m actually a nervous wreck, but I’m determined not to
show it.
When I open up, I find him standing on my porch in his
signature outlaw-meets-aristocrat ensemble of denim, leather,
and luxury wool. That overcoat he’s wearing probably cost
more than my car.
His unruly hair is tamed. His expression is stern. In one of
his big paws, he holds a bouquet of dainty white flowers
wrapped with a white satin ribbon.
It’s an unexpectedly sweet gesture. Courtly. I have a hard
time imagining him at a florist, picking out individual stems,
but the bouquet is obviously not one of those premade
grocery-store things. It looks more like his wardrobe: simple
but expensive.
This is a man who takes care when he chooses things.
“Hi,” I say, feeling shy. “You look great.”
“Not as great as you.” He holds out the flowers.
I take them from him and invite him in. “I’ll just put these
in water and get my coat, and we can get going.”
Kage closes the door as I head into the kitchen in search of
a vase. I find one in a cabinet over the fridge. I fill it with