John wasnt entirely sure where else he was pierced. Some things you just didnt need to know about your buddies.
Blay, who fit in at the store, branched out and went over to the distressed-jeans section, which he seemed to approve of. John hung back, less concerned with the clothes than the fact that people were looking at them. As far as he was aware, humans couldnt sense vampires, but man, the three of them were getting a lot of attention for some reason.
Can I help you?
They turned around. The girl whod asked was tall as Xhex, but the comp between the two females ended right there. Unlike the female of Johns fantasies, this one spiked way high on the feminine scale and suffered from hair-related Tourettes, a condition that manifested itself in incessant head jerks and an evidently irresistible urge to fondle her brunette frizz bomb. But she had skills. Somehow, she managed to handle all that hair play without tipping over into a T-shirt display.
Frankly, it was kind of impressive. Although not necessarily in a good way.
Now Xhex would never-
Fuck. Why the hell was Xhex always the standard?
As Qhuinn smiled at the girl, plans of the on-all-fours variety flared in his eyes. Perfect timing. We totally need help. My buddy here needs a vibe injection. Can you hook him?
Oh. God. No.
When the girl glanced over at John, her hot stare made him feel like shed grabbed him between the legs and sized up his cock with a squeeze.
He took cover behind a rack of brand-new, old-looking button-downs.
Im the manager, she said, her drawl all about the bump and grind. So youre in good hands. All of you.
Niiiice. Qhuinns mismatched eyes traced down the girls smooth legs. Why dont you get to work on him? Ill watch.
Blay stepped up beside John. Whatever you pick out, I check first, and Ill bring it to him in the dressing room.
John sagged with relief and signed a quick thank-you to Blay for coming to the rescue yet again. The boys middle name was buffer. For real.
Unfortunately, the manager just smiled even more widely. Two for one sounds good to me. Check it, I didnt know we were having a sale on man candy tonight.
Okay, this was going to be horrible.
An hour later, though, John was feeling better. Turned out Stephanie, the manager, had a good eye, and once she got into the clothes she chilled out on the come-ons. John got jacked into some sweet ragged jeans, a bunch of those deconstructed button-downs, and a couple of tight muscle shirts, which even he had to admit showed off his guns and his pecs like they were worth seeing. A couple of necklaces were pushed on him, and so was a black hoodie.
When it was done, John went up to the register with the shit draped over his arm. As he put the clothes down, he glanced at a bunch of bracelets in a basket. Within the tangle of leather and shells, there was a flash of lavender, and he weeded through the pile to get to it. Pulling out a woven bracelet with beads the color of Cormias rose on it, he smiled and surreptitiously put the thing underneath one of the muscle shirts.
Stephanie rang him up.
The total was over six hundred bucks. Six. Hundred. Dollars.
John wigged. He only had about four-
Ive got it, Blay said, handing over a black card and glancing at him. You can pay me the rest later.
Stephanies eyes bugged at the sight of the plastic, then narrowed on Blay as if she were changing the price tag on him. Ive never seen a black AmEx before.
Its no big. Blay started poking through a bunch of necklaces.
John squeezed his friends arm then knocked on the counter to get Stephanies attention. He spread his money out, but Blay shook his head and started signing.
Pay me the rest later, okay? I know youre good for it, and lets face it, do you really want to come back here and pick up the shit you cant cover? I dont.
John frowned, finding it hard to argue with that logic. But Im giving the rest to you, he signed after he handed his four over.
When you have it, Blay returned. Just whenever you have it.
Stephanie whipped the card through the machine, punched in the amount, and waited with her fingertips on the slip. Seconds later there was a chattering sound, and then she ripped the paper off and handed it over to Blay with a blue Bic pen.
So were closing now.
Are you. Qhuinn leaned a hip against the counter. And exactly what does that mean?
Its just going to be me here. Im a great boss. Im letting the others go early.
But then youd be all alone.
I would. Its true. All by myself.
Shit, John thought. If Blay was the buffer, Qhuinn was the king of complication.
The guy smiled. You know, me and my boys wouldnt feel right about leaving you here on your lonesome.
Oh, yes-yes, they would, John thought. Your boys would feel just great about that.
Tragically, Stephanies slow smile sealed the deal. They were going nowhere until Qhuinn got into her cash register.
At least he worked fast. Ten minutes later, the store was empty and the chain-link security curtain had been pulled into place in the front. And he was getting pulled by the jeans chain into a lip-lock.
John held on to his two big bags while Blay got busy looking at shirts hed already looked at.
Lets go into a dressing room, the manager said against Qhuinns mouth.
Perf.
We dont have to go alone, by the way. The girl looked over her shoulder, her stare landing on John. And staying. Theres plenty of room.
No way, John thought. NFW.
Qhuinns mismatched eyes sparkled with trouble, and behind the girls back he signed, Come with us, John. Its time you did this.
Stephanie picked that moment to take Qhuinns full lower lip between her white teeth and his thigh between her legs. A guy could just imagine the things she was going to do to him. Before he did her.
John shook his head. Im staying here.
Come on. You can watch me first. Ill show you how its done.
The fact that Qhuinn was issuing the invite was not a surprise. He regularly had sex in pairs. Hed just never asked John to join in yet.
Come on, John, come back with us.
No, thanks.
A dark look came into Qhuinns eyes. You cant always be on the sidelines, John.
John looked away. It would have been easier to get pissed at the guy if the same thing didnt occur to him on a regular basis.
Fine, Qhuinn said. Well be back in a while.
With a lazy smile, he slid his hands onto the girls ass and picked her up. As he walked backward, her skirt rode up so she flashed pink panties and white cheeks.
When the pair was in a dressing room, John turned to Blay to sign something about what a man-slut Qhuinn was, only to stop his hands. Blay was staring off in the direction the two of them had gone with an odd expression on his face.
John whistled low to get his attention. You can go back, you know. If you want to be with them. Im cool here.
Blay shook his head a little too quickly. Nah. Im hanging.
Except his eyes went back to that dressing room and held steady as a moan drifted out. Going by the tenor of the sound, it was hard to know who had made it, and Blays expression got even tighter.
John whistled again. You okay?
We might as well get comfortable. Blay went behind the locked cash registers and sat on a stool. Were going to be here for a while.
Right, John thought. Whatever was bumming the guy was off-limits.
John hopped up on the counter and let his legs dangle. As another moan sounded out, he started to think of Xhex and got hard.
Great. Just fab.
He was pulling his shirt out of his waistband to cover up his little problem when Blay asked, So whos the bracelet for?
John signed quickly, Its for me.
Yeah, right. That thing wouldnt fit your wrist. There was a pause. You dont have to tell me if you dont want to.
Honestly, its no big deal.
Okay. After a minute, Blay said, So, you want to go to ZeroSum after this?
John kept his head down while he nodded.
Blay laughed softly. Thought you might. Just like Ill bet if we go tomorrow night, too, youll be okay with it.
I cant tomorrow night, he signed without thinking.
Why not?
Shit. Just cant. Have to stay home.
Yet another moan came out from the back, and then a muffled, rhythmic pounding started.
When the sounds stopped, Blay took a deep breath, like hed been running intervals and had just finished the workout. John didnt blame him. Hed just as soon leave the store, too. With the lights down low and no other people around, all the hanging clothes seemed sinister.
Plus, if they got to ZeroSum ASAP, he had a good couple of hours of Xhex sightings to look forward to, and that was
Pathetic, really.
Minutes ticked by. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.
Shit, Blay muttered. What the hell are they doing?
John shrugged. With their friends predilections, it was anyones guess.
Yo, Qhuinn? Blay called out. When there was no answer, not even a grunt, he slid off the stool. Im going to see whats up.
Blay went up to the dressing room and knocked. After a moment, he put his head in through the door. In a rush, his eyes flared and his mouth opened and he blushed from the roots of his red hair all the way to his palms.
Riiiiight. The session was evidently not finished. And whatever was doing was worth seeing, because Blay didnt turn around right away. After a moment his head went back and forth slowly, as if he were answering a question Qhuinn had posed.
As Blay returned to the register, his head was down, his hands deep in his pockets. He stayed quiet as he eased back onto the stool, but his foot started going a mile a minute, tapping up and down.
It was obvious the guy didnt want to hang around anymore, and John could totally get that.
Hell, they could be at ZeroSum.
Where Xhex worked.
As that happy little obsessive thought hit him, John wanted to bang his head into the counter. Man clearly, the word pathetic had a new spelling.
And it was J-O-H-N M-A-T-T-H-E-W.
Chapter Eight
Among the problems with shame was that it in fact did not make you shorter or quieter or less visible. You just felt like you were.
Phury stood in the mansions courtyard and stared up at the looming facade of the Brotherhoods home. All dour gray, with a lot of dark, glowering windows, the place was like a giant that had been buried up to its neck and was not happy with the dirt submersion.
He was no more ready to go into the mansion than it seemed ready to welcome him.
As a breeze came up, he looked to the north. The night was typical August in upstate New York. All around it was still summer, with the fat, leafy trees and the fountain going and the potted urns on either side of the houses entrance. The air was different, though. Little drier. Little cooler.
The seasons, like time, were relentless, werent they?
No, that was wrong. The seasons were but a measure of time, just like clocks and calendars.
Im getting older, he thought.
As his mind started to head off in directions that seemed worse than the ass-kicking he was likely to find in the mansion, he went through the vestibule and into the foyer.
The queens voice came out of the billiards room, accompanied by a quartet of pool balls clapping gently together and a couple of thunks. Both the curse and the laughter that followed had a Boston accent. Which meant that Butch, who could beat everyone else in the house, had just lost to Beth. Again, evidently.
Listening to them, Phury couldnt remember the last time hed played a game of pool or just hung out with his brothers-although even if he had, he wouldnt have been completely at ease. He never was. For him, life was a coin that had disaster on one side and waiting for disaster on the other.
You need another blunt, mate, the wizard drawled. Better yet, have a bale of the stuff. Wont change the fact that youre a right bastard fool, but itll increase the chance of you lighting your bed on fire when you pass out in it.
On that note, Phury decided to face the music and go upstairs. If he was lucky, Wraths door would be shut-
It wasnt, and the king was at his desk.
Wraths stare lifted from the magnifying glass he was holding over a document. Even through his wraparounds, it was straight obvi the guy was pissed. Ive been waiting for you.
In Phurys head, the wizard swooped up his black robes and parked it in a Barcalounger slipcovered in human skin. My kingdom for some popcorn and Junior Mints. This is going to be specTAAAcular.
Phury walked into the study, his eyes barely registering the French blue walls and the cream silk sofas and the white marble mantel. The lingering smell of lesser in the air told him that Zsadist had just been right where he was.
Guess Z talked to you already, he said, because there was no reason not to call a spade a spade.
Wrath put the magnifier down and leaned back behind his Louis XIV desk. Shut the door.
Phury closed them in together. You want me to talk first?
No, you do enough of that. The king lifted up his massive shitkickers and let them fall on the dainty desk. The pair landed like cannonballs. You do plenty of that.
Phury waited for the list of failures to get rolling out of courtesy, not curiosity. He was well aware of where he was at: trying to get killed out in the field; assuming the mantle of the Chosens Primale but not completing the ceremony; being overinvolved with Z and Bellas life; not paying enough attention to Cormia; smoking all the time
Phury focused hard on his king and waited for a voice other than the wizards to run down his fuckups.
Except none of it came. Wrath said absolutely nothing.
Which seemed to suggest that the problems were so loud and obvious it was like pointing at a bomb exploding and saying, Boy, thats really noisy-going to leave a crater in the pavement, too, huh?
On second thought, Wrath said, tell me what I should do about you. Tell me what the fuck I should do.
When Phury didnt reply, Wrath murmured, No comment? You mean you have no idea what to do, either?
I think we both know what the answer is.
Im not so sure about that. What do you think I need to do?
Take me off rotation for a little while.
Ah.
More silence.
So is that where were at? Phury asked. Man, he so needed a blunt.
Those shitkickers knocked together at the toes. Dunno.
That mean you want me to fight? Which would be a better outcome than he could hope for. Id give you my word-
Fuck. You. Wrath stood up in a quick surge and came around the desk. You told your twin you were coming back here, but dollars to shit piles you went to see Rehvenge. You promised Z youd stop with the slayers and you didnt. You said youd be the Primale and you arent. Hell, you keep talking out your ass about how youre going back to your room to get some sleep, but we all know what you do in there. And you honestly expect me to take your word about anything?
So tell me what you want me to do.
From behind the sunglasses, the kings pale, unfocusable eyes were searching. Im not sure time off and a fuckload of therapy is going to help, because I dont think youll do either.
Cold dread curled up like a wet, wounded dog in Phurys gut. Are you going to kick me out?
It had happened before in the history of the Brotherhood. Not often. But it had. Murhder came to mind shit, yeah, he was probably the last one to get the boot.
Not as simple as that, is it, Wrath said. If you get curbed, where does that leave the Chosen? The Primale has always been a Brother, and not just because of blood-lines. Besides, Z wouldnt take to that well, even as pissed off at you as he is now.
Great. His safety nets were saving his twin from a head fuck and being the Chosens man-whore.
The king walked over to the windows. Outside, the summer trees swayed in a gathering wind.
Heres what I think. Wrath popped his sunglasses up off his nose and rubbed his eyes like his head ached. You should
Im sorry, Phury said, because that was all he had to offer.
So am I. Wrath let the glasses fall back into place and shook his head. As he returned to his desk and sat down, his jaw was set along with his shoulders. Popping open a drawer, he took out a black dagger.
Phurys. The one that had been left in the alley.
Z must have found the damn thing and carried it home.
The king turned the weapon over in his hand and cleared his throat. Give me your other blade. Youre off rotation permanently. Whether or not you see a shrink or how the shit shakes out with the Chosen is not my business. And Im out of advice, because the truth is, youre going to do what youre going to do. Nothing I demand or ask of you is going to make a difference.
Phurys heart stopped for a moment. Of all the ways hed thought this confrontation would play out, Wraths washing his hands of the mess had never been in the cards.
Am I still a Brother?
The king just stared at the dagger-which gave Phury the three-word answer: in name only.
Some things didnt need to be said, did they.
Ill talk to Z, the king murmured. Well say youre on administrative leave. No more fieldwork for you, and you dont come to the meetings anymore.
Phury felt a rush as if he were free-falling off a building and had just made eye contact with the pavement that had his name on it.
No nets anymore. No promises to break. As far as the king was concerned, he was on his own.
Nineteen thirty-two, he thought. Hed been in the Brotherhood for only seventy-six years.
Bringing his hand up to his chest, he palmed the grip of his remaining dagger, unsheathed the weapon in a single pull, and put it on the silly pale-blue desk.
He bowed to his king and left without another word. Bravo, the wizard called out. Such a shame your parents are already dead, mate. Theyd be so delighted in this proud moment-wait, lets bring them back, shall we?
He was slammed with two quick images: his father passed out in a room full of empty ale bottles, his mother lying in a bed with her face turned to the wall.
Phury went back to his room, took out his stash, rolled up a blunt, and lit it.
With everything that had happened tonight, and the wizard playing the role of the anti-Oprah, he either smoked or he screamed. So he smoked.
Across town, Xhex was not in her happy place as she escorted Rehvenge out of ZeroSums back door and into his bulletproof Bentley. Rehv didnt look any better than she felt, her boss nothing but a grim dark shadow in a full-length sable coat as he slowly moved through the alley.
She opened the drivers-side door for him and waited as he eased himself into the bucket seat with the help of his cane. Even in the seventy-degree night, he cranked the heater and pulled his coats lapels closer to his neck-a sign that his last hit of dopamine had yet to wear off. It would soon enough. He always went unmedicated. It wasnt safe otherwise.
Wasnt safe, period.
For twenty-five years, she had wanted to go with him to back his ass up for these visits with his blackmailer, but getting shut down every time she asked had made her cut her losses and keep her yap shut. The cost of her silence was a bad fucking mood, though.
You staying at your safe house? she said.
Yeah.
She shut the door and watched him drive off. He didnt tell her where the meetings were, but she knew the rough vicinity. The GPS system in the car indicated he went upstate.
God, she hated what he had to do.
Thanks to her fuckup two and a half decades ago, Rehv had to whore himself out the first Tuesday of every month to protect them.
The symphath Princess he serviced was dangerous. And hungry for him.
At first, Xhex had waited for the bitch to turn him and Xhex in anonymously for deportation to the symphath colony. But she was smarter than that. If they got shipped, theyd be lucky to survive six months, even as strong as they were. Half-breeds were no match for the full-bloods, and besides, the Princess was mated to her own uncle.
Who was a power-driven, possessive despot if there ever was one.
Xhex cursed. She had no idea why Rehv didnt hate her, and she couldnt fathom how he could stand the fucking part of it. She had a feeling, though, these nights were why he took such good care of his girls. Unlike your average pimp, he knew exactly how the prostitutes felt, knew precisely what it was like to screw someone you didnt want because they had something you needed, be it cash or silence.
Xhex had yet to find them a way out, and what made the situation even more untenable was that Rehv had stopped looking to get free. What had once been a crisis situation had become the new reality. Two decades later, he was still fucking to protect them, and it was still Xhexs fault, and every first Tuesday of the month, he went and did the unthinkable with someone he hated and that was life.
Fuck, she said to the alleyway. When is this going to change?
The only reply she got was a gust that blew newspaper pages and plastic bags her way.
As she went back into the club, her eyes adjusted to the flaring lasers, her ears absorbed the trippy music, her skin registered a slight drop in temperature.
The VIP section seemed relatively quiet with just the usual regulars, but she made eye contact with both her bouncers anyway. After they nodded the all-clear, she looked over the girls who were working the banquettes. Watched the cocktail waitresses tray empties and deliver replacements. Measured the bottle levels behind the VIP bar.
When she got to the velvet rope, she looked over the crowd in the main part of the club. The great throng on the dance floor was moving like an unsettled ocean, surging and parting and coming together again. Couples and trios on the fringes were gyrating while they hooked up, the lasers bouncing off shadowy faces and bodies that were melded together.
Tonight was relatively low traffic, as the weeks geared up slowly, attendance growing until traffic peaked on Saturday nights. For her as head of security, Fridays were usually the most intense, with idiots burning off the residue of a bad workweek by doing too many drugs and either ODing or breaking into brawls.
That being said, as dumb-asses with addictions were the clubs bread and butter, shit could go south any moment of any night.
Good thing she rocked at her job. Rehv handled the sale of drugs, booze, and women, managed his fleet of sports bookies that ran lines to the mob in Vegas, and contracted for certain special projects involving enforcement. She was in charge of keeping the clubs environment in control so business could be conducted with as little interference from the human police and the idiot patrons as possible.
She was about to go check the mezzanine level when she saw what she referred to as the Boys come in the front door.
Stepping back into the shadows, she watched as the three young males came through the VIP sections velvet rope and headed for the back. They always went for the Brotherhood s table if the thing was empty, which meant they were either strategic, as it was next to an emergency exit and in a corner, or theyd been told to sit there and mind their manners by the powers that be.
Powers as in the king, Wrath.
Yeah, the Boys werent your average little cock cabal, she thought as they parked it. For a whole host of reasons.
The one with the mismatched eyes was trouble looking for a landing pad, and true to form, after he ordered his Corona he got up and went out to the main part of the club to find some tail. The redhead stayed behind, which was also not a surprise. He was your essential Eagle Scout, straight up as a ruler. Which made her suspicious as to what was under that apple-pie image.
Of the three, though, the mute was the real issue. His name was Tehrror, a.k.a. John Matthew, and the king was his whard. Which meant the kid was a china plate in a bullpen, as far as Xhex was concerned. Anything happened to him? The club was flushed.
Man, the kid had changed over the last few months. Shed seen him pretransition, all scrawny and weak, totally crushable, but now she was looking at one fuck of a big male and big males were problems if they got to throwing their meat around. Although John had up until now been a sit-back -and-watch type, the kids eyes were way too old in his young face, which suggested hed been through some bad shit. And bad shit tended to be the gas on the fire when people cracked.
Mismatched Eyes, a.k.a. Qhuinn, son of Lohstrong, came back with a pair of ready-and-willings, two blondes whod evidently color-coordinated their outfits to match their cosmopolitans: both were wearing not much pink.
The redhead, Blaylock, didnt have a lot of game, but that was no problem, because Qhuinn had plenty for both of them. Hell, the guy would have had plenty for John Matthew, too, except that one didnt play. At least, not that Xhex had ever seen.
After Johns buddies disappeared into the back with the R amp;Ws, Xhex walked over to the kid for no good reason. He stiffened as he caught sight of her, but he always did that, just like he always watched her. When you were head of security, folks tended to want to know where you were.
How you doing? she asked.
He shrugged and fiddled with his Corona bottle. Bet he wished it had a label to pick off, she thought.
Mind if I ask you something?
His eyes popped a little, but he shrugged again.
Why dont you ever go to the back with your boys? It was, of course, none of her damned business, and what was more, she didnt know why she cared. But hell maybe it was all the first-Tuesday-of-the-month shit. She was looking to get out of her own head.
The girlies like you, she prompted. Ive seen them checking you out. And you look at them, but you always stay out here.
John Matthew flushed so deep she could see the red even in the dim light.
You already tied up? she murmured, even more curious. The king pick you out a female?
He shook his head.
Okay, she needed to leave him alone. The poor kid was a mute, so how did she expect him to answer her?
I want my drink now! The booming male voice cut through the music, and Xhex swiveled her head around. Two banquettes away, one of the big-daddy blowhard types was aggressing on a waitress, clearly on the express train to Im-an-Ass-ville.
Excuse me, Xhex said to John.
As the loudmouth reached out his bear claw and grabbed the waitresss skirt, the poor girl lost control of her tray and cocktails went flying. I said, gimme my drink now!
Xhex stepped up behind the waitress and steadied her. Dont worry about it. Hes leaving.
The man lumbered up out of his seat to a full height of about six-four. Am I?
Xhex stepped in close until they were breast-to-chest. She locked eyes on him, her symphath urges screaming to be let out, but she focused on the metal barbs she had clamped around her thighs. Taking strength from the pain she inflicted on herself, she fought off her nature.
You will leave now, she said softly, or I will drag you out of here by your hair.
The man had breath like a day-old tuna sandwich. I hate dykes. You always think youre tougher than you really-
Xhex grabbed the mans wrist, turned him in a little circle, and cranked his arm up to the middle of his back. Then she clipped her leg around his ankles and shoved him off balance. He landed like a side of beef, the wind getting knocked out of him on a curse, his body plowing into the short-napped carpet.
In a quick move, she bent down, buried one hand in his gelled-up hair, and locked the other on the collar of his suit jacket. As she dragged him face-first to the side exit, she was multitasking: creating a scene, committing both an assault and a battery, and running the risk of a brawl if his buddies in the Hall of Fucktards got involved. But you had to put on a show every once in a while. Every one of the entitled assholes in the VIP section was watching, as were her bouncers, who were edgy characters to start with, and the working girls, most of whom had totally understandable anger-management issues.