As he listened to her grumble about the nerve of his stubborn ass refusing to open the door, he snickered at the irony of the situation. How many times had he told her to put the keys in the small zippered pouch on the left side of the bag?

But Sonia Michelle Johnson always ignored his advice.

He adjusted his body in the bed and listened to her rant. A few seconds passed and then he could tell she’d found her keys. She was picking up her things from the floor and cramming them back into her bag.

Scratching his head, Matt yawned loudly as he visualized her movements in his mind. She’d load the fifty pounds of ammo into the sack and then shove in a pair of jeans and a couple of t-shirts, and hopefully, her black lace bra. He loved black-lace against her skin. Next, she'd take her Luger and Mira taser from her weapons belt and place them in a side compartment. She didn't bring guns into his apartment holstered. Probably didn't want to deal with the temptation of blowing his brains out if she got too pissed, he reasoned. But she was duty-bound to have her weapons on her person at all times. So, she always kept them near. Besides, what demon hunter in 2045 survived without her guns?

Matt was particularly smitten with her 1945 Luger. She'd had it restored and equipped with platinum bullets that tore an impressive gap in the chest of a Mira demon. Matt lusted after that weapon. It would be his favorite if he were that heartless. But he was Mirachi, a half-breed. Unlike pure humans, he had to go for the clean kill when taking the life of a Mira demon.

“Jeez, you sure do know how to make a mess of shit.” He flinched at the sound of Sonia’s voice inside the apartment. He then heard the door slam and her footsteps stomping across the hard wood floor. He pulled the bed linens over his head and began counting backward from ten.

“You are the stupidest Mirachi on Earth. What made you think this was going to work, huh? Jesus freaking Christ, Matt. You make me so mad I could spit.”

Aw…sweet love, he hadn't even reached five. A twinge in his stomach reminded him how fitting it was that they'd found each other. They were the perfect couple in a world where perfection was no longer possible.

Tucking the sheets snugly beneath his slender hips, Matthew Sirk stretched his aching limbs into a full body yawn and hugged the iron rails of his bedpost. His toes curled as his feet dangled over the sides of the bed. He was ignoring the huffy sounds coming from Sonia as she turned and walked away from the bedroom doorway. He could hear her muttering as she poked around in the mini-kitchen, mini-living room that comprised the other half of his two-room apartment.

He wondered how long she'd take before she walked back into the bedroom. It wasn't like her to hang out in the kitchen. Besides her cursing him out, it was another sign she was not pleased.

Denny S. Bryce - All Rights Reserved 2006