The stout panel whipped open and V was on the other side, his hair wet, a black towel around his waist. Jay-Z's Empire State of Mind was thumping in the background and the scent of fine Turkish tobacco drifted out.
"Whassup?"
"I need you to get me an address. "
Those icy silver eyes narrowed, the tattoo on his left temple flexing. "What kind of addy you looking for. "
"Off a civilian's cell phone number. " Blay recited the digits he'd just dialed.
V rolled his eyes and stepped back. "Child's play. "
And it was. Couple of keystrokes at the Brother's Four Toys and V looked up from his computers. "Twenty-one oh five Sienna Court--Where the fuck are you going?"
Blay spoke over his shoulder as he strode past the leather couches and the wide-screen television. "Out your front door. "
V dematerialized and blocked the exit. "Sun's coming up in twenty- five minutes, true?"
"Then don't keep me here a second longer. " Blay slid his eyes to the Brother's. "Let me go. "
The whole lot of nonnegotiable he was feeling must have shown in his face because V cursed low. "Make it quick or you aren't coming back. "
As the Brother opened the door, Blay thin-aired it right out. . . and took form on Sienna Court, a tree-lined street with Victorians of various colorful extractions. He flashed down to 2105, a perfectly conditioned clapboard number painted in dark green with gray-and-black trim. The front ginger-bread porch and the side door were lit with lanterns, but inside everything was dark.
Which made sense. Going by the way the glass panes double- reflected, there were internal shutters down in place.
No getting in through them.
Without a lot of options for infiltration, given that those window shields undoubtedly had steel in them, he went up to the front door and rang the bell.
The weak sunlight coming from the east heated his back even though the rays were barely strong enough to throw shadows. Damn it, where was the camera? Assuming V got the house right--and come on, he was always right--there would be a closed-circuit monitoring system. . . .
Ah, yes, in the eyes of the lion door knocker.
Leaning forward, he met the brass face and pounded with his fists.
"Let me in, Saxton. " As his shoulders and spine heated even further, he reached behind himself and fluffed out the top of the scrubs he'd put on.
The clicking shift of the lock and turn of the knob had him brushing quickly through his damp hair.
The door opened only a crack and the house beyond was shrouded in dense shadows. "What are you doing"--cough--"here. "
Blay went cold as he smelled blood.
Slamming his shoulder into the heavy panels, he pushed inside. "What the hell--"
Saxton's voice receded. "Go home, Blaylock. As much as I adore you, I'm not in a position to receive at the moment. "
Yeah, big whatever on that. With a quick shift, Blay shut them in together to keep the sun out.
"What happened. " Even though he knew. On an instinctual level, he knew. "Who beat you?"
"I was about to take a shower. Perhaps you'll join me?" As Blay swallowed hard, Saxton laughed a little. "All right. I'll take one and you have a coffee. Because it seems as though you are my guest for the day. "
There was the sound of the lock turning on the door, and then the male shuffled away--which suggested he might have a limp.
Although it wasn't possible to see Saxton in the dense black, the sounds of him walking headed over to the right. Blay hesitated. No sense in checking his watch again. He knew that the chance to get back had likely passed.
He was indeed staying the day.