out his pad and pen. He wrote neatly, folded the paper, and held it in his hand. He had to say thank-you. Even if Zsadist couldn't read, he had to say something.
When the van stopped and the partition opened, John left the paper on Zsadist's seat, not even trying to give it to the warrior. And he made sure he didn't look up as he hit the steps and headed across the road. He did stop on the front lawn to watch the van leave, though, snow falling on his head and shoulders and duffel.
As the bus disappeared into the gathering storm, Zsadist was revealed standing across the street. The Brother flashed the note, holding it up in the air between his first and middle fingers. Then he nodded once, put it in his back pocket, and dematerialized.
John kept staring at the spot where Zsadist had been. Thick bundles of flakes filled up the footprints the male's shitkickers had left.
With a rumble the garage door opened behind him, and the Range Rover reversed its way over. Wellsie put the window down. Her red hair was coiled up high on her head, and she was wearing a black ski parka. The heater inside the car was going full blast, a dull roar almost as loud as the engine.
"Hi, John." She reached out her hand and he laid his palm on hers. "Listen, was that Zsadist I just saw?"
John nodded.
"What was he doing here?"
John dropped his duffel and signed, He rode home on the bus with me.
Wellsie frowned. "I'd like you to stay away from him, okay? He's... not right in a lot of ways. Do you know what I mean?"
Actually, John wasn't so sure about that. Yeah, the guy was enough to make you think fondly of the bogeyman sometimes, but clearly he wasn't all bad.
"Anyway, I'm off to pick up Sarelle. We've run into a snag with the festival and lost all our apples. She and I are going to make the rounds of some spiritual folks, see what we can do about this so close to the date. Do you want to come?"
John shook his head. I don't want to get behind in Tactics.
"Okay." Wellsie smiled at him. "I left you some rice and ginger sauce in the fridge."
Thank you! I'm starved.
"I figured you would be. See you soon."
He waved at her while she backed down the rest of the driveway and took off. As he headed for the house, he Page 241
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noticed absently how the chains Tohr had put on the Rover made sharp gouges in the fresh snow.
Chapter Forty-one
"Stop here." O opened the Explorer's door before the SUV even came to a halt at the base of Thorne Avenue.
He angled a quick look up the hill, then shot the Beta behind the wheel a real wake-your-ass-up stare.
"I want you to circle this neighborhood until I call you. Then I want you to come to number twenty-seven.
Don't head into the driveway, keep going. There's a corner in the stone wall about fifty yards later. That's where I want you." As the Beta nodded, O snapped, "You fuck this up and I'll put you under the Omega's feet."
He didn't wait for the slayer to throw out some kind of bullshit, have-confidence-in-me babble. He hit the pavement and ran up the road's gradual incline. As he jogged he was a mobile arsenal, his body weighed down by the weapons and explosives he'd hung on himself as if he were a paramilitary Christmas tree.
He went past number twenty-seven's twin pillars and eyed the driveway that disappeared between them. Fifty yards later he was at the juncture of the stucco wall where he'd told the fool Beta to pick him up. He took three running strides and leaped into the air, all Michael Jordan and shit as he went for the top lip of the ten-foot wall.
He closed the distance with no problem, but then his hands made contact. The blast of electricity that shot through his body was a real hair curler. If he'd been human still he'd have been toasted, and even as a slayer, the jolt was enough to leave him breathless as he pulled himself up and then plunged down the other side.
Security lights flared, and he took shelter behind a maple tree, taking out his muzzled gun. If attack dogs came at him he was ready to pop them, and he waited for the barking. There was none. And there was no rush