Turns out, I didn't really get Hank all that drunk. Actually, while he'd only ordered one more shot of whiskey, I, on the other hand, had chugged down three more Screwdrivers. Which made that a total of……..six? Or was it seven? Oh, well, who cares? So, the point is, I didn't get Hank drunk, it was I who was the drunk one.

Not gonna lie, I'm feeling pretty good right now. I'm not plastered, but I've got a good buzz going on.

Hank knows that I rarely ever drink this much, but under the circumstances, I think he understands that I just needed to forget about the night's events for a little while.

I stumbled back against Hank, laughing at the corny joke that our pool opponent, who just happened to be one of the hotties from earlier, had told, which I forgot instantly.

Hank caught me by the shoulders and steadied me, "You good, RJ?"

Even drunk, I knew what he meant. He was asking if I was ready to leave.

The smile I sent him was slow. "Let's finish this game, Cowboy. Then we'll blow this joint," I assured him with a pat on the arm.

In no time at all, the hotties lost, me and Hank made excellent pool playing partners. It's too bad we weren't playing for money, we could've won us a couple of bucks tonight. The hotties were good sports about it, and even asked for a rematch.

Hank declined that request with a meaningful drape of an arm around my shoulders. I didn't like the grin cocky grins our adversaries exchanged but I decided to ignore them. Why spoil my good mood?

Turning my back on them, I steered Hank towards the bar so that I could pay my tab before we went back to my place. We thanked Jeff and he, in turn, wished us a good night before we pushed through the bar's doors and out into the cool night.

Holding up my keys, I dangled them in front of Hank. Did I mention that he has a motorcycle license? A man after my own heart.

Since he'd taken a cab, and there was no way I was leaving my bike here till tomorrow. That left Hank driving us home the only option left to us. When I spotted his helmet sitting next to mine on the seat of my bike, I raised a brow up at him, "I see you came prepared, Stud."

He wiggled his brows down at me, "In more ways than one, Sugar."

Grins can be contagious, so I've learned. Whacking him in the chest, I shrugged off his arm so that I could grab my helmet. "Are we gonna' talk all night? Or are we gonna go for a ride?"

Hank put on his helmet and swung onto my bike before turning the key, making it roar to life. Ah, I sighed, as I inhaled sweet exhaust. There's nothing like the smell of bike fumes in the dead of night.

Helmet in place, I straddled the bike behind Hank and wrapped my arms around his torso. "Alright, giddyup, Partner!"

With a hearty "yee-haw", Hank hit the throttle and off we went.

It was a little cold out, especially with the wind whipping mercilicy at any piece of exposed flesh it could find. My jacket helped out tremendously and Hank emitted enough heat to qualify him as a human hot water bottle.

Being nearly four o'clock in the morning, there was hardly any traffic on the roads, which made this the perfect time to have a little midnight ride. We could go fast and not have to worry about all that pesky traffic getting in the way.

I was enjoying the rush of adrenaline that you can only find on the back of a bike and the buzzing in my skull that came from too many drinks. I let out a whoop of laughter as Hank took a sharp turn, the side of the bike threatening to kiss the ground.

Once we were right side up, I lifted both arms in the air and the tilted my head back to look up at the sky. Don't try this at home kids. It's not safe and I, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I pride myself on my leg strength and have no problem with going hands free for a short period.

"RJ! Put your damn arms down!" Hank barked at me over his shoulder.

With a shrug, I obligingly slipped my arms back around him. As I went to rest my head against Hank's back, a sparkly red Corvette caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I briefly admired the machine, for my love of fast pretty things isn't only limited to motorcycles, before I turned my attention elsewhere.

When I spotted the car again miles later, I still didn't think anything of it. Coincidence for sure.

At a traffic light, I inconspicuously turned my head to check behind us, a chill raising the hair on my arms. Sure enough, there it was, sitting a few cars behind us, trying to look like he wasn't following us and failing horribly.

Anger clearing some of my tipsiness away, I leaned forward, "Don't look now, but we've got a tail. Red Corvette, it's been following us for the last ten minutes."

Hank, bless him, didn't ask questions, didn't bother to check for his own eyes. Instead he kept calm, though the tensing of his shoulders gave away his apprehension. "What's the plan?"

"Ditch 'em."

With an affirmative nod, Hank looked both ways before taking off like a bullet, ignoring the red light demanding that we stop and heed its warning. I barely had the time to latch my arms tightly around him, almost flying off the back of my own beloved bike.

The city flew by in blurs, it made me queasy to watch the colors and lights zoom by and the screwdrivers threatened to make a reappearance. But I stubbornly kept my eyes.open to watch the path Hank took to lose our tail. With the skill of one who knew the city like the back of his hand, the werelion took several twists and turns around sharp, dangerous curves and zipped through the narrowest of alleyways. I didn't have to look down at the speedometer to know that we were going well over a hundred and fifty miles an hour.

It'll be a stroke of luck, I thought to myself wryly as I clung on for dear life, if we don't kill ourselves in this game of cat and mouse.

After what seemed like forever, Hank finally began to slow the bike. Pulling around the back of a raunchy-looking dive bar, we finally came to a dead stop. He let the kickstand down before he flipped the visor of his helmet.

"I think we lost him."

I looked around, "Hell, you managed to lose me. Where the hell are we?"

Hank let out a slight laugh, "To be honest, I'm not really sure." He grew serious as he studied me, "This isn't good, RJ."

Nah, shit.

I let out a long sigh, "No. No, it isn't."

"Maybe you would be safer at my place for a little while." He put his hands up in surrender when I cut a glance at him, "Just until you finish this case."

I pat him on the back, "Thanks, but no thanks, Stud. I'm not gonna let some creepy vamp keep me from my humble abode. Now that I know I'm being tailed, I'll be a lot more careful from now on." Flipping my visor back down, I nudged him in the back with a single finger, "Now, take me home."

With a baffled shake of his head, Hank did as he was told, "Okay, but I still don't think it's a good idea."

I didn't either, but there was no way in hell I'm going to let Sebastian scare me like he did earlier. I wouldn't hide away at Hank's, but I wouldn't protest if he offered to stay with me tonight.

At a much slower speed, Hank started on the journey to my home. It took him a minute to find a familiar part of town after our high speed chase, but eventually we made it back to my place in one piece.

After parking the Rocket in one of the spaces in front of my building, the two of us dismounted and removed our helmets.

Hank looked down at me with a seriousness that I hardly ever see, "I've decided, RJ. I'm staying here for a few days. And don't argue with me on this, I'm staying and you're just going to have to deal with it."

I raised my brows at that. Hm, having a hunk stay at my place for a few nights with nothing to do but watch the tube and do a little romping. Did he really expect me to object to that? I mean he might have a little bit of helmet hair at the moment, but Hank was still pretty dingle dang hott.

I let out a frustrated, but fake sigh, "Alright, if you must insist. You're as stubborn as I am sometimes, you know that?"

He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and brought me closer to his broad chest. "It's why we get along so well, sugar," he practically purred as he lowered his face towards mine.

Just as our lips were about to meet, I was suddenly blinded by a pair of bright fucking headlights.

"Mother fucker!"

With a hiss of surprise, I immediately drew my weapon from my back holster, Hank mimicking my actions at my side.

Our weapons steadied at the car, which I could barely make out as the same red Corvette from earlier. Hank and I slowly approached the car, me heading for the driver's side and him towards the passenger's.

"Police!" I yelled loud enough for the driver to hear me over the roar of the engine. "Come out with your hands up and maybe I won't shoot you!"

There was a moment where nothing happened, and I debated shooting at the window. Just as I was about to pull the trigger, the engine shut off and the lights went dark.

The click of the door opening had my arms tensing up, my finger itching to unload lead into flesh, as I waited for my stalker to get out of his beautiful machine.

"It's just me, RJ. Don't shoot me, it would really piss me off."

Recognition dawned before the face appeared over the car's door. Anger surged and I almost shot him anyway just for pissing me off, "God dammit, Mitchell!" I lowered my weapon before I did just that. Hank followed my lead, a look of confusion on his face.

"You know this guy?"

Reholstering my piece, I nodded stiffly baring my teeth at the werewolf in a snarl, "I do indeed. This is the Master of the City's lapdog, Mitchell. What the fuck are you doing following me?"

Even though he didn't answer my question, his silence spoke volumes, "Wolfric told you to follow me, didn't he?"

Mitchell nodded, his eyes warily eyeing me like I was a bomb that could explode at any moment. "He knew you would refuse his protection if he offered it. So, he wanted me to follow you discreetly."

"Did he also ask you to report my actions to him?" I asked quietly.

Errand boy didn't respond to that, but the slight shift of his eyes to the left gave him away.

"That son of a bitch. He is not invading my privacy like this!" I stalked over to Hank and yanked my keys out of the pocket of his jeans. Stomping over to my bike, I thrust my helmet back on my head.

"RJ, where do you think you're going?" Hank asked as he drew closer.

I didn't bother to look at him as I swung my leg over the bike, "I'm going to go give Wolfric a bloody nose."

Resting a restraining hand on my shoulder, Hank stopped me from starting the bike, "It's not safe for you to be out by yourself right now. Plus you've been drinking."

I shrugged off his hand, "The whole car chase pretty much sobered me up anyway. And I dare someone to try and come at me right now, it'll be a good way to let off some steam."

I turned the key and let the bike purr. Glaring at Mitchell over my shoulder, I pointed a finger at him, "You. Make sure he," I pointed at Hank, "gets home. And I suggest you make yourself very scarce from Wolfric's place for a while."

I didn't wait for him to reply, I gunned it and off I went.