Blood Debt - By Tanya Huff Page 0,74

rage fu?eled by Tony's fear. These men fed off the youth of the children they exploited. They were the filthiest kind of parasite, and they were about to get off far too lightly for what they did. They were only going to die.

A moment later, he squatted by the first man, the man whose fist he'd crushed, and grabbed his jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze. The screaming faded to a whimper. "Your friends are dead," Henry told him softly. "And so are you."

The rank stench in the alley grew ranker as the injured man's bowels let go.

"Where is Kenny?"

"Samson's got a room he uses, down the street. Doug... Doug's gone."

"Gone where?"

"Don't know. Somebody gave him money. Lots of money. Thousands." The words spilled out in a pan?icked rush, as though they could buy redemption. "Kenny says that's all Doug told him. This ain't the first time. Talk says there's a guy who'll buy you off the street. Give you another chance. Talk says you gotta be special."

"Do the police know this?"

"Who the fuck talks to the police?"

Henry had to acknowledge that, considering the source, it was a valid point. "Is that all you know?"

"Yeah. That's all." He couldn't move his head, so he rocked his body back and forth, tears spilling down both filthy cheeks. "I don't want ... I don't want to die!"

Henry's hand moved from jaw to throat.

"Henry." Tony stumbled over a sprawled body, grateful for the lack of light, and gently touched the rigid line of Henry's shoulder, adapting the comfort Henry had offered him a long moment before. "Don't. Please."

"If you're sure."

"I am."

Leaning forward until the darkness swallowed the other man's will, Henry said softly, "Do not remember us, but remember what happened here tonight. Re?member why it happened. Find another line of work." He straightened his legs, fitting the masks back in place. "Are you all right?"

"Me? I wasn't in the fight." Brushing past, Tony hurried for the gray rectangle of light at the end of the alley, unable to be anything but glad the pimp was dead and not liking himself very much for that feeling. "Come on, before they strip the car."

Careful not to touch the pitted metal, Henry heaved both bodies into the dumpster. Aware of the dichot?omy in Tony's voice, Henry kept his own carefully neutral. "Hopefully, the scavengers are waiting to see if these three return to claim the prize. I got the im?pression they weren't nice people."

"No shit."

The immediate neighborhood seemed eerily de?serted as they emerged onto the street. "What they don't see they don't have to lie to the cops about," Tony explained as they ran for the car.

The BMW was fine, although a stray cat had sprayed both curbside tires.

"Do you think anyone's made a note of the license plate?" Henry asked, starting the engine and all but popping the clutch as he pulled out of the parking space.

"Yeah. Sure. They all carry around pocketbook computers to jot their observations down in. Get real, Henry, most of these people can't focus on the car let alone the license plate." He mimed breaking an egg. "You know, 'this is your brain on drugs'?" When Henry didn't answer, he sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "Looking at the bright side, Doug's not just the second guy to disappear, but you've only got two of the ghosts."

"Why would anyone sell themselves to a stranger without knowing what they're selling themselves for?"

"They'll do a stranger for twenty bucks. For a thou?sand, who's going to ask questions?" Wiping his palms on his jeans, Tony opened his eyes. "Where to now?"

Pulling up at an intersection, Henry shrugged. "I don't. . ." His head swiveled toward the open window.

"What?"

"That scent ..."

"You mean stink."

"No. I mean Vicki."

The clinic was closed, the waiting room dark and empty, but Vicki could sense a life in the building. A line of light, barely visible around the perimeter of an inner door, suggested someone was working late in the back. A fairly sophisticated alarm system con-vinced her not to attempt a frontal assault.

"There's got to be another entrance," she muttered, "if only to keep the fire marshal happy."

Keeping to the shadows, she turned down Columbia and then into the alley that bisected the block. Two people were sleeping in the first dumpster she passed.

An old woman was fishing a meal out of the second. She dropped down off her perch as Vicki approached, clutching a greasy box of beef fried rice in one hand and length