might be listening in.”
“I can’t feel anything.”
“Better safe than sorry,” he said.
It seemed almost too simple. Help the beautiful one avenge the “death” of his beloved, and in return, he would willingly submit his life for the furthering of the Fellowship’s agenda. Too simple. It felt wrong. “Before we leave here, there is something we must do.”
“Yeah?”
He made as if to walk past me and I put a hand on his wrist. Even through the thickness of his sweatshirt, his nerves jumprf at my touch. “A pact.”
I hadn’t noticed his height, having already categorized him into the compartment labeled “dead” in my mind, but this close, it struck me just how close we were. He was a touch under six feet and we stood almost eye to eye.
What a novel feeling.
He nodded. “Guess I should’ve expected. You don’t trust me.”
You don’t trust me.
What an understatement. “Don’t take it too hard. I don’t trust anyone.”
“I don’t either.” He made a point of looking down at my hand still on his wrist. “Do you mind letting me go? I’m not going to run away.”
“ I only have your word on that,” I said. “At this point, I’m afraid it doesn’t count for much.”
He wrenched away. I let him. “Fine. Whatever. Pact me away. Just don’t touch me. Ever. Got it?”
I nodded. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It was not my place.”
He tilted his head in a considering manner. “You sound all proper and shit. That’s fucking weird.”
“I was raised to speak like this,” I said, wishing I didn’t sound so defensive. “Meanwhile, you sound like you were born in a gutter.”
His teeth glinted in the darkness as he grinned widely. “In the projects. And damn proud of it.”
To each his own. “Give me your hand.”
He extended it, palms up. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“Pain is irrelevant,” I replied. “It’s more symbolic than anything else.”
“What is?”
I flicked my wrist and a small dagger fell into my palm, the point almost so sharp to be invisible. Quickly, I scratched a line across his palm before he could resist and did the same to mine.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I clenched and unclenched my hand, urging the blood faster. “Blood of mine, blood of yours, and now we are bound by an oath.”
I rubbed my palm against his, even as he tried to squirm away. For a man, he wasn’t exactly fearless.
Clearly, beauty wasn’t everything. I didn’t know why I felt even the slightest bit of disappointment.
“Are you crazy?” he shouted. “Haven’t you fucking heard of AIDS?”
“I can’t imagine it would be much of a problem, seeing as how you’re going to dead soon,” I replied and let him have his hand back.
“You think I give a rat’s ass about me? I was talking about you, you fucking idiot.” he muttered and I watched the blood drip down his fingers to pool on the ground. “I swear to God, all you fucking killers are crazy. You’re all nuts, you hear me?”
“I hear you,” I said quietly, nodding at his hand. “You’re bleeding.”
He continued muttered under his breath as he tucked his hand into his pockets. “Wasn’t the first, won’t be the last. Are you done? Stupid weird voodoo shit, if you ask me. I could’ve written you an affidavit and could’ve saved us a scar. Like an oath is going to keep me from lying.”
“It wasn’t just the words,” I said, as I tucked the dagger back into the wrist sheath. “Your blood runs in mine, now, just as my blood runs in yours. If we are separated, I’ll be able to track you. If you decide to run away…well, you won’t be able to.”
He was silent for a moment and then pulled out his hand, staring at the wound already starting to clot. “That’s pretty freaky. Will I be able to do that, too?”
“No.”
“Sounds like I’ve got the rough end of the deal,” he said, sighing. “So you’ll be keeping an eye on me, then? Sounds kind of invasive.”
I followed him out of the alleyway. “Don’t be ridiculous. At least you’re still alive.”
“Yeah, but for how long?”
I stayed quiet and he laughed mirthlessly.
“Dude, this sucks.”
He didn’t know half of it.
3
His “hide-out” as he so succinctly put it, turned out to be a seedy little bar with sticky floors and bartenders who looked like they’d rather bash your face in than give you a drink.
One of the bartenders stood at least seven feet tall with scars crisscrossing his broad, tanned face and he polished