Back here for some more lovin'.
When he got out, he dried himself and inspected the sore. The damn thing appeared to be pissed off at the attention he'd given it, a thin black ooze welling up over its surface
.
Oh, that stuff was going to be great to get out of his fucking silk shirts.
He slapped a Band-Aid the size of an index card on the thing and thought that maybe tonight he and his GF would play nice.
He'd tie her up for a change.
It took him no time at all to put on a sweet Zegna suit and head out. As he passed by the master bedroom's door, he paused and made a fist. Banging on the wood loud enough to wake the dead, he smiled.
"Be back soon and I'm bringing chains. "
He waited for a response. When there was none, he reached for the knob and put his ear to the door. The sound of her even breathing was soft as a gentle current of air, but it was there. She lived. And she would be alive still when he returned.
With deliberate self-control, he released the knob. If he opened the door, he'd lose another couple of hours and his father was not into waiting.
Down in the kitchen, he took a stab at some eats and came up with nothing. The coffee machine had been timed to start up two hours ago, so a quick lift of the pot showed something close to crankcase oil. And cracking the fridge, he didn't see anything that appealed even though he felt starved.
Lash ended up dematerializing from the kitchen empty-handed and with a bottomless gut. Not a great combo for his mood, but he wasn't going to miss the show--if for no other reason than he wanted to see what had been done to him during his induction.
The farmhouse was out north and east of the brownstone, and the instant he took form on the lawn, he knew his father was inside: An odd shiver in his blood bubbled up every time he was around the Omega, like an echo in an enclosed space. . . although he wasn't sure whether he was the sound and his father the cave, or if it was the other way around.
The front door was open, and as he mounted the porch steps and went into the shitty little hall, he thought about his induction.
"When you became truly mine. "
Lash wheeled around. The Omega was in the living room, his white robes covering his face and hands, his black energy seeping out onto the floor, a dark shadow formed by no illumination.
"Are you excited, my son?"
"Yeah. " Lash glanced over his shoulder at the dining room table. The bucket and the knives that had been used on him were right there. Ready and waiting.
The sound of gravel crunching under tires had him turning to the door. "They're here. "
"My son, I should like you to bring me more. I find myself hungry for fresh ones. "
Lash went to the doorway. "No problem. "
In this at least, they were fully aligned. More inductees meant more money, more fighting.
The Omega came up behind Lash and there was a soft brushing movement as a black hand ran down his spine. "You are a good son. "
For a split second, Lash's dark heart ached. The phrase was exactly the one the vampire who'd raised him had said from time to time. "Thanks. "
Mr. D and the two others got out of the Lexus. . . and brought the human forward. It hadn't dawned on the little bastard yet that he was a pair of jeans and a T-shirt away from being a sacrificial lamb. But the instant he got a look-see at the Omega, shit was going to become clear as a bell.
Chapter Twelve
As John lay facedown and the footsteps of his enemy got closer, he breathed through his nose and got a sinus-load of fresh dirt. Pulling a possum was not a bright idea generally speaking, but this motherfucker with the epileptic trigger finger didn't fit the profile of someone who was going to be too careful about whether he'd hit his mark or not.
Letting loose the lead in the middle of a public park?
Had the idiot never heard of the Caldwell Police Department? The Caldwell Courier Journal ?
The boots stopped and that sweet, choking smell lessers carried on their skin nearly made him gag. But funny how life and death got the attention of your esophagus.