car went by. Two policemen engaged the slayers and more cops showed up. The lessers were taken into custody, and I got the call just now from one of them."
"So bail them out," O snapped. "Why are you calling me?"
There was a pause. Then U's tone had the stench of well, duh all over it. "Because you need to know this.
Listen, they were packing plenty of concealed weapons, none of which they had permits for, all of which had come off the black market, with no serial numbers on the barrels. No way they're going to get bail in the morning. No public defender is that good. You need to get them out."
O scanned left and right and then turned around in a driveway the size of a football field. Yeah, there was definitely noplace to park around here. He had to go down to where Thorne Avenue dumped out on Bellman Road and leave the truck in that little village.
"O?"
"I have things I have to do."
U coughed as if he were choking back a boatload of pissed-off. "No offense, but I can't imagine anything's as important as this. What if those slayers get into a fight in general holding? You want black blood flowing so that some EMT type figures out they're not human? You have to contact the Omega and get him to call those two home."
"You do it." O accelerated even though he was headed down the hill now.
"What?"
"Reach out and touch the Omega." He came to a rolling stop at the bottom of Thorne and picked left. There were all kinds of cutie-pie, homey-ass shops on the street, and he parked in front of one called Kitty's Attic.
"O... That kind of request needs to come from the Fore-lesser. You know that."
O paused before turning off the ignition.
Terrific. Just what he wanted. More quality time with the bastard master. Goddamn it. He couldn't live with not knowing the fate of his woman any longer. There wasn't time for this Society bullshit.
"O?"
He put his head down on the steering wheel. Banged it a couple of times.
On the other hand, if that contact with the humans down at the police station exploded in his face, the Omega was going to come looking for him. And then where would he be?
"Fine. I'll go see him now." He cursed as he put the truck in gear. Before he pulled out he looked up Thorne Avenue again.
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"And O, I have a concern about the membership. You need to meet with the slayers. Things are slipping."
"You're handling the check-ins."
"They want to see you. They're questioning your leadership."
"U, you know what they say about messengers, right?"
"Excuse me?"
"Too much bad news will get you shot." He turned off the phone and flipped it shut. Then hit the gas.
Chapter Thirty-three
As Phury sat on his bed, he was so strung out from the need to have sex, he could barely pour himself another shot of vodka. The bottle shook, the glass shook. Hell, the whole mattress was shaking.
He looked at Vishous, who was leaning back against the headboard beside him. The brother was just as twitchy and miserable as he nodded his head to 50 Cent's The Massacre.
Five hours into Bella's fertile time and they were both a mess, their bodies mostly instinct, their minds mostly fog. The compulsion to stay at the mansion couldn't be overridden, the needing pulling them in tight, paralyzing them. Thank God for the red smoke and the Grey Goose. The numbing out helped a lot.
Though not with everything. Phury tried not to think about what was going on in Z's room. Because when the brother hadn't come back, it was obvious that his body was being used, not the morphine.
Dear God... the two of them. Together. Over and over again...
"How you doing?" V asked.
" 'Bout the same as you, my man." He took a deep drink from his glass, his body swimming, lost, drowning in the erotic sensations trapped under his skin. He eyed the bathroom.
He was about to get up and head for a little privacy again when Vishous said, "I think I'm in trouble."
Phury had to laugh. "This won't last forever."
"No, I mean... I think there's something wrong. With me."
Phury narrowed his eyes. His brother's face looked strained, but otherwise it was the same as always.
Handsome lines, goatee around the mouth, swirling tattoos at the right temple. Those diamond eyes were sharp, undimmed even by the Grey Goose, the blunts, the needing. Their superblack