I got a better ride than this.
Oh. Really. Lash eyeballed the bitch from head to foot. You come here every night on a BMX. Your jeans are torn and not because theyre designer. How many jackets you got in your closet? Oh, wait, you keep your shit in a cardboard box under the bridge. Lash rolled his eyes as all kinds of surprise bubbled up from the passenger seat. You think we didnt check you out? You think were that stupid?
Lash jabbed a finger toward the Xtreme Park, where skateboarders were making like metronomes on the ramps, up and down, up and down. You are the shit in this playground over here. Fine. Congratulations. But we want you to go farther. You join with us, youve got muscle behind you. . money, product, protection. You hit it with us, youre going to be something more than a two-bit punk swinging your cock around a concrete lot. Weve got your future.
The kids calculating stare shifted toward his little slice of territory in Caldwell and then floated over to the horizon where the skyscrapers loomed. The ambition was there, and that was why hed been chosen. What this little bastard needed was a way up and a way out.
The fact that hed have to sell his soul to do it was going to dawn on him only when it was too late, but that was the way of the Society. From what Lash had been told by the lessers he now commanded, there was never a full-disclosure thing before they got inductedand this was understandable. Like any of them would have believed that evil was waiting on the other side of the door they were knocking on? Like any one of them would have volunteered for what they were getting into?
Surprise, motherfucker. This aint no Disney World, and once you get on the ride, you are never, ever getting off.
Lash was totally fine with deception, however.
Im ready for bigger shit, the kid murmured.
Good. Now get the fuck out of my car. My associate will pick you up tomorrow night at seven.
Cool.
With business concluded, Lash was impatient to move the little bastard along. The kid smelled like a sewer and was screaming for more than a showerhe needed to be hosed down like a dirty stretch of sidewalk.
As soon as the door was shut, Lash backed out of the parking lot and hooked up with the road that ran parallel to the Hudson River. He headed for home, his hands gripping the steering wheel for another reason than the urge to kill.
The urge to fuck was just as strong a motivator for him.
The street he lived on in Old Caldwell had Victorian-era brownstones running down it and sidewalks planted with trees and property values no lower than a million dollars. The neighbors picked up after their dogs, never made any noise, and put their trash out only in the back alleys, and only on the right days. As he drove past his town house and cut around the block to the garage, he was tickled fucking pink to think all these tight-ass WASPs had a neighbor like him: He might have looked and dressed like them, but his blood ran black and he was as soulless as a wax statue.
As he hit the garage door opener, he smiled and his fangs, a gift from his mothers side, elongated as he got ready for his Hello, Lucy-Im-home shit.
Never got old. Coming back to Xhex never got old.
After hed parked the AMG, he got out and had to stretch his body. She put him through the wringer, she abso did, and he loved how she left him stiff. . and not just in the cock.
Nothing like a good opponent to cheer his shit up.
Cutting through the back garden and entering the house through the kitchen, he smelled grilled sirloin and fresh bread.
He wasnt into food at the moment, though. Thanks to that convo at the park, that little shit skater was going to be his first induction, the first offering he brought to his father, the Omega. And didnt that make him jones for some sex.
Yall ready to eat? Mr. D asked from the stove as he flipped the piece of meat over. The little Texan had proved useful not only as an initial tour guide through the Lessening Society, but also as a killer and a halfway decent cook.
Nah, Im going up now. He tossed his keys and his cell phone on the granite countertop. Leave the food in the fridge and lock the door behind you.
Yessuh.
Were on for tomorrow night. You pick the target up at seven. You know where to take him.
Yessuh.
That two-syllable word was the SOBs favorite responsewhich was another reason he remained upright and the second in command.
Lash passed through the butlers pantry and the dining room and hung a right to the carved staircase. When hed first seen the place, it had been emptied out, with nothing but the remnants of graceful living left behind: silk wallpaper, damask drapes, and one wing chair. Now, the brownstone was filling up with antiques and statuary and proper rugs. It was going to take longer than hed thought to get it where it needed to be, but you couldnt pull a household of shit out of your ass overnight.
Mounting the stairs, his feet were light and his body humming as he unbuttoned his coat and then his jacket.
As he closed in on Xhex, he was well aware that what had started out for him as payback had turned into an addiction: What was waiting for him on the other side of his bedroom door was much more than hed bargained for.
It had been so simple at first: Hed taken her because shed taken from him. When shed been up at the colony in that cave, shed pointed her gun and pulled the trigger and pumped a shitload of lead into his bitchs chest. Not acceptable. Shed robbed him of his favorite toy and he was exactly that flavor of dickhead where an eye for an eye was his theme song.
When hed brought her here and locked her into his room, his goal had been to take pieces out of her, to trim off bits from her mind and her emotions and her body, putting her through shit that was going to bend her until she snapped.
And then, like any broken thing, he was going to throw her away.
At least, that had been the plan. It was becoming amply clear, however, that her edges didnt dull.
Oh, no. She was titanium, this one. Her reserves of strength were proving inexhaustible and he had the bruises to prove it.
As he came up to the door, he paused to take all his clothing off. Generally speaking, if he liked the threads he had on, they needed to hit the floor before he went inside, because he got trashed pretty quick the moment he got near her.
Unplugging his button-down from his slacks, he released his cuff links, left them on the hall table and took his silk shirt off.
He had marks on him. From her fists. Her nails. Her fangs.
The tip of his cock tingled as he looked at his various wounds and bruises. He healed quickly, thanks to his fathers blood running thick in his veins, but sometimes the damage she did lasted and that thrilled him to the core.
When you were the son of evil, there was little you couldnt do, own, or kill, and yet her mortal self was an elusive trophy he could touch, but not put on his shelf.
This made her rare. This made her precious.
This made him. . love her.
Fingering a blue-black contusion on the inside of his forearm, he smiled. He had to go to his fathers tonight to confirm the induction, but first he would spend some QT with his female and add to his collection of scrapes. And before he took off, he would leave some food for her.
Like all prized animals, she needed to be provided for.
Reaching out to the doorknob, he frowned as he thought about the larger feeding issue. She was only half symphath and that vampire side of her worried him. Sooner or later, she was going to require something that couldnt be bought at the local Hannaford. . and wasnt something he could give her.
Vampires needed to take the vein of the opposite sex. It was immutable. If you had that biology in you, you died unless you put the hardware in your mouth to use and swallowed fresh blood. And she couldnt have what was in his bodyeverything in him ran black now. As a result, his men, what few he had left, were searching for a male of good age, but theyd been coming up with nothing. Caldwell was close to empty when it came to civilian vampires.
Although. . he did have that one in deep freeze.
Trouble was, hed known that motherfucker in his old life, and the idea of her taking the vein of someone hed been friends with just cranked his shit right out.
Plus the bastard was Qhuinns brotherso yeah, not a bloodline he wanted her to have anything to do with.
Whatever. Sooner or later, his men were going to come up with somethingthey just had to. Because his new favorite toy was the kind of thing he wanted to have around for a very long time.
As he opened the door, he started to smile. Hi, honey, Im home.
Across town, in the tat shop, Blay stayed mostly focused on what was doing on Johns back. There was just something hypnotic about watching that needle trace over the blue transfer lines. Then from time to time, the artist paused to swipe the skin with a white paper towel before resuming his work, the whirring sound of the gun filling the silence once again.
Unfortunately, as captivating as it all was, he still had enough attention span left over to be very aware of when Qhuinn decided to fuck that human woman: After the pair chatted softly and swapped a lot of casual stroking down arms and shoulders, those astounding, mismatched eyes drifted over to the front door.
And a moment later, Qhuinn strolled across and checked to make sure it was locked.
That green-and-blue stare didnt meet Blays as he came back to the tat station.
You doing good? he asked John.
When John glanced up and nodded, Qhuinn quickly signed, You mind if I get a little exercise behind that curtain?
Please say yes, you do mind, Blay thought. Please tell him he has to stay here.
Not at all, John signed. You take care of yourself.
Ill be on it if you need me. Even if I have to come out with my cock out.
Yeah, if we could avoid that, Id appreciate it.
Qhuinn laughed a little. Fair enough. There was a heartbeat of a pause; then he turned away without looking at Blay.
The woman went into the other room first, and given the way she was working her hips, she was as ready for what was going to happen as Qhuinn was. Then Qhuinns big shoulders shifted as he ducked out of sight and the veil fell back into place.
The overhead light in the room and the curtains anorexic fibers provided plenty of get-a-load-of-this, so Blay got a distilled picture of Qhuinn reaching out and pulling her by the neck against him.
Blay redirected his eyes to Johns tattoo, but the refocusing didnt last. Two seconds later he was locked on that peep show, not so much watching it happen as absorbing the details. In typical Qhuinn fashion, the woman was now on her knees and the guy had his hands bunched into her hair. He was working her head, his hips flexing and releasing as he drilled her mouth.
The muted sounds were as incredible as the visual and Blay had to shift in his seat, his body hardening. He wanted to be in there, on his knees, led by Qhuinns hands. He wanted to be the one whose mouth was full. He wanted to be responsible for making Qhuinn pant and strain.
Not going to be in the cards.
Man, what the hell? The guy had fucked people in clubs and bathrooms and cars and alleys and occasionally in beds. Hed done ten thousand strangers, men and women and males and females alike. . he was Wilt Chamberlain with fangs. To be denied was like getting shut out of a public park.
Blay took another shot at looking away, but the ripple of a deep moan once again brought his eyes to the
Qhuinns head had turned so that he was staring out of the curtain. And as their eyes met, his mismatched stare flashed. . almost like he was turned on more by who was watching him, than who he was hooking up with.
Blays heart stopped. Especially as Qhuinn dragged the woman up, spun her around, and bent her over the desk. One yank and her jeans were to her knees. And then it was. .
Jesus Christ. Was it possible his best friend was thinking like he was?
Except then Qhuinn pulled the womans upper body against his chest. After he whispered something in her ear, she laughed and turned her head to the side so he could kiss her. Which he did.
You stupid fuck, Blay thought to himself. You stupid motherfucker.
The guy knows precisely who hes doing. . and who hes not.
Shaking his head, he muttered, John, you mind if I go have a cigarette outside?
When John shook his head, Blay got to his feet and put the clothes on the seat. To the tattoo guy he said, I just flip the lock?
Yup, and you can leave it open if youre just outside the door.
Thanks, man.
No prob.
Blay walked away from the buzz of the tattoo gun and the symphony of groans behind that curtain, slipping out of the shop and leaning against the building right next to the entrance. Palming up a flat pack of Dunhill reds, he withdrew a cigarette, put it between his lips, and lit the thing with his black lighter.
The first drag was heaven. Always the best out of all that followed.
As he exhaled, he hated that he read into things, saw connections that werent there, misinterpreted actions and stares and casual touches.
Pathetic, really.
Qhuinn hadnt been looking up as hed been getting blown to meet Blays eyes. Hed been checking on John Matthew. And hed spun that woman around and taken her from behind because that was how he liked it.
Fuckin A. . hope didnt so much spring eternal as it drowned out common sense and self-preservation.
Inhaling hard, he was so tangled in his own thoughts that he failed to notice the shadow at the head of the alley across the street. Unaware he was being watched, he smoked along, the chilly spring night eating up the puffs that rose from his lips.
The realization that he couldnt keep going like this anymore was a deep freeze that went right into his bones.
FOUR
Okay, I think were done.
John felt a last dragging pull across his shoulder and then the Otattoo gun went silent. Sitting up from the rest hed been curled against for the last two hours, he stretched his arms over his head and pulled his torso back into shape.
Gimme a sec and Ill clean you up.
As the human male sprayed some paper towels with antibacterial wash, John settled his weight on his spine once again, and let the tingling hum from the needles work reverberate through his whole body.
In the lull, an odd memory came to him, one he hadnt thought of for years. It was from his days of living at Our Ladys orphanage, back when he hadnt known what he truly was.
One of the churchs benefactors had been a rich man who owned a big house on the shores of Saranac Lake. Every summer, the orphans had been invited to go up for a day and play on his football- field-size lawn and go for rides on his beautiful wooden boat and eat sandwiches and watermelon.
John had always gotten a sunburn. No matter how much goo they slathered on him, his skin had always burned to a crispuntil they finally relegated him to staying in the shade on the porch. Forced to wait things out on the sidelines, hed watched the other boys and girls do their thing, listening to the laughter roll across the bright green grass, having his food brought to him and eating alone, playing witness instead of being a part of it.
Funny, his back felt now as his skin had then: tight and prickly, especially as the tattoo artist hit the raw spots with the wet cloth and made circles over the fresh ink.
Man, John could remember dreading that annual ordeal at the lake. Hed wanted so badly to be with the others. . although if he was honest, that had been less about what they were doing, and more because he was desperate simply to fit in. For fucks sake, they could have been chewing on glass shards and bleeding down the front of their shirts and he still would have been all sign-me-up.
Those six hours on that porch with nothing but a comic book or maybe a fallen birds nest to inspect and reinspect had seemed as long as months. Too much time to think and yearn. Hed always hoped to be adopted and in lonely moments like that the drive had consumed him: Even more than being among the other little boys, hed wanted a family, a real mother and a father, not just guardians who were paid to raise him.
Hed wanted to be owned. Hed wanted someone to say, Youre mine.
Of course, now that he knew what he was. . now that he lived as a vampire among vampires, he understood that owning thing much more clearly. Sure, humans had a concept of family units and marriage and all that shit, but his true kind were more like pack animals. Blood ties and matings were far more visceral and all-consuming.
As he thought about his younger, sadder self, his chest achedalthough not because he wished he could reach back in time and tell that little kid that his parents were coming for him. Nope, he ached because the very thing hed wanted had nearly destroyed him. His adoption had indeed come, but the owning hadnt stuck. Wellsie and Tohr had waltzed into his life, told him what he was, and shown him a brief glimpse of home. . and then disappeared.
So he could say categorically that it was far worse to have had and lost parents, than not to have had them at all.
Yeah, sure, Tohr was technically back in the Brotherhoods mansion, but to John he was ever away: Even though he was now saying the right things, too many takeoffs had occurred such that now that a landing might actually have happened, it was too late.
John was through with that whole Tohr thing.
Heres a mirror. Check er out, my man.
John nodded a thank-you and went over to a full-lengther in the corner. As Blay returned from his extended cigarette break and Qhuinn emerged from behind the side rooms curtain, John turned around and got a look- see at what was on his back.
Oh, God. It was exactly what he wanted. And the scrollwork was boss. He nodded as he moved the hand mirror around, checking out every angle. Man, it was kind of a shame that no one other than his boys were ever going to see this. The tat was spectacular.
And more to the point, no matter what happened next, whether he found Xhex dead or alive, she would always be with him.
Damn him to hell, these last four weeks since her abduction had been the longest of his life. And hed had some pretty fucking long days before this shit. To not know where she was. To not know what had happened to her. To have lost her. . He felt as if hed been mortally injured, though his skin was intact and his arms and legs unbroken and his chest unpenetrated by bullet or blade.
But then again, in his heart, she was his. And even if he got her back just so she could live a life that didnt include him, that was okay. He only wanted her safe and alive.
John looked at the artist, put his hand over his heart, and bowed deeply. As he rose from his position of gratitude, the guy stuck his palm out.
Youre welcome, man. Means a lot that you approve. Let me cover it up now with some cream and a wrap.
After they shook, John signed and Blay translated, Not necessary. He heals lightning-quick.
But its going to need time to The tattoo artist leaned in and then frowned as he inspected where hed worked.
Before the guy started asking questions, John stepped back and grabbed his shirt from Blay. The fact was, the ink theyd brought with them had been lifted from Vs stashwhich meant part of its composition included salt. That name and those fabulous swirls were permanentand his skin had already healed.
Which was one advantage of being a nearly purebred vampire.
The tat rocks, Qhuinn said. Its pure sex.
As if on cue, the woman who hed just balled came out from behind the side rooms curtain, and it was hard not to notice Blays pained expression. Especially as she slipped a piece of paper into Qhuinns back pocket. Undoubtedly her number was on the thing, but she really didnt need to get her hopes up. Once the guy had someone, that was itkind of like his sex partners were a meal that couldnt be re-eaten and never had any leftovers. Unfortunately said Kat von D look-alike had stars in her eyes.
Call me, she murmured to him with a confidence that would fade as the days passed.
Qhuinn smiled a little. Take care.
At the sound of the two words, Blay relaxed, his big shoulders easing up. In Qhuinn-landia, take care was synonymous with Im never going to see, call, or fuck you again.
John took out his wallet, which was stuffed with tons of bills and absolutely no identification, and peeled off four hundreds. Which was twice what the tat cost. As the artist started shaking his head and saying it was too much, John nodded at Qhuinn.
The two of them lifted their right palms at the humans, and then reached into those minds and covered up the memories of the last couple hours. Neither the artist nor the receptionist would have any concrete recollection of what had happened. At the most, they might have hazy dreams. At the least, theyd have a headache.
As the pair slipped into trances, John, Blay, and Qhuinn walked out of the shops door and into the shadows. They waited until the artist shook himself back into focus, went over, and flipped the lock. . and then it was time to get down to business.
Sals? Qhuinn asked, his voice lower than usual thanks to postcoital satisfaction.
Blay fired up another Dunhill as John nodded and signed, Theyre expecting us.
One after another, his boys disappeared into the night. But before John ghosted out, he paused for a moment, his instincts ringing.
Looking left and right, his laser-sharp eyes penetrated the darkness. Trade Street had a lot of neon lights and there were cars going by because it was only two a.m., but he wasnt interested in the lit parts.
The dark alleys were the thing.
Somebody was watching them.
He put his hand inside his leather jacket and closed his palm around his daggers hilt. He had no problem killing the enemy, especially now, when he knew damn well who had his female. . and he hoped something that smelled like a week-old dead deer stepped up to him.
No such luck. Instead, his cell phone went off with a whistle. No doubt Qhuinn and/or Blay were wondering where the fuck he was.
He waited a minute more and decided the information he hoped to get from Trez and iAm was more important than knuckle busting whatever slayer was hanging back in the shadows.
With vengeance flowing thick in his veins, John dematerialized into thin air and took form again in the parking lot of Sals restaurant. There were no cars around and the lights that usually shone up on the outside of the brick building were off.
The double doors under the porte cochere opened right away and Qhuinn stuck his head out. What the hell took you so long?
Paranoia, John thought.
Double-checked my weapons, he signed as he walked over.
You could have asked me to wait. Or done it here.
Yes, Mother.
The inside of the place was done in old-school Rat Pack with red flocked wallpaper and plush carpeting as far as the eye could see. Everything from the club chairs to the linen-covered tables to the plates and silverware was a reproduction of what had been around in the sixties and the vibe was Dean Martin redux: smooth, rich, and Sands Casino classy.
Ol Blue Eyes was even singing Fly Me to the Moon.
The overhead speakers would probably refuse anything else.
The three of them walked past the hostess stand and into the bar room, where the pungent aroma of cigars lingered in spite of New Yorks antismoking laws. Blay went back behind the teak counter to fix himself a Coke, and John walked around, hands on hips, eyes on the marble floor, path delineated by the leather booths that were arranged around the space.
Qhuinn took a seat in one of them. They told us to hang and make a drink. Theyre coming out in a sec
At that moment, from the staff-only room in back, a thump-thump and a groan cut into Sinatras scooby-doos. With a curse, John followed Qhuinns lead and parked it across from the guy. If the Shadows were working some POS out, they were likely to be longer than a second.
As Qhuinn stretched his legs under the black table and cracked his back, he was still glowing, his cheeks flushed from exertion, his lips swollen from kissing. For a moment, John was tempted to ask why the guy insisted on fucking people in front of Blay, but he canned the Q as he stared at the red tear that was tatted on the guys cheek.
How else was the bastard going to get laid? He was literally joined at the hip with John and all they did was go out and fight. . with Blay a member of their team.
Blay came over with his Coke, sat next to John, and stayed quiet.
Awkward much, John thought as none of them said a thing.
Ten minutes later, the door marked STAFF ONLY swung wide and Trez came in from the back. Sorry about the wait. He grabbed a hand towel from behind the bar and wiped the blood from his knuckles. iAms just dumping some trash in the alley. Hell be right in.
John signed, Do we know anything?
After Qhuinn translated, Trezs brows dropped and the Shadows eyes grew calculating. About what.
Xhex, Qhuinn said.
Trez made elaborate work out of refolding the now red-stained towel. Last thing I knew, Rehv was living at the compound with you.
He is.
The Shadow planted his palms on the teak and leaned in, his shoulder muscles bunching up thick. So why do you have to ask me about her search and rescue.
You know her very well, John signed.
After the translation, Trezs dark eyes flashed bright green. I do. She is a sister, though not of mine blood.
So whats the problem? John signed.
As Qhuinn hesitated, like he wanted to be sure John really needed to say that to a Shadow, John motioned for the guy to get talking.
Qhuinn shook his head a little. He said he understands that. He just wants to make sure all avenues are covered.
Word up, I dont think thats what he signed. Trezs smile was cold. And heres my problem. You coming here and being all whats-up suggests you and your king dont trust Rehv to tell you where its ator you dont think hes busting his balls to find her. And you know. . that shit dont fly with me.
iAm came in through the staff door and just nodded as he stepped up to his brotherwhich was about as much welcome as you ever got from him. He didnt spare words. Or punches, going by how much blood had stained his gray T-shirt. And the guy didnt ask for a recap of the convo thus far. He seemed to be fully up to speed, which meant either hed seen something on a security camera in the back, or he was accurately reading the tension in his brothers powerful body.
We didnt come here to fight or offend, John signed. We just want to find her.
There was a pause after Qhuinn did his bit. And then Trez asked the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. Your king know youre here?
When John shook his head, Trez narrowed his eyes even further. And what precisely do you expect to get from us?
Anything you know or believe to be true about where Xhex is. And any information on the drug trade here in Caldwell. He waited for Qhuinn to catch up, then continued. Assuming Rehv is right and Lash was the one knocking off those dealers in town, then its damn obvious that he and the Lessening Society will fill the void they created. Another pause for Qhuinn. So where do people go for buys, apart from the clubs down on Trade? Is there a crack row? And who are the big suppliers Rehv worked with? If Lash is trying to deal, hes got to be getting the shit from someone. One last breather for Qhuinn. Weve been down in the alleys, but up until now, its getting us nowhere. Just humans dealing with humans.
Trez eased back off his palms and you could practically smell the wood burning as his brain worked. Lemme ask you something.