to allow him to stay in that house for the next fourteen nights. If I hear of any bullshit, from anyone, I’m going to rip up that will and give everything to the charity of Boone’s choice.”
“Y-you can’t do that,” Marquist stammered.
Wrath smiled, revealing enormous fangs. “This ain’t the human world, motherfucker. I’m the King and I can do anything the fuck I want, including send someone to visit you in your sleep and make it so you don’t come down for First Meal. You do what I say and you’re probably going to walk away with tens of millions of dollars and a nice crib. Sit tight and shut the fuck up or I’ll put you under the ground.”
Well. There was that, Boone thought.
Except he just shook his head again at his King. “It’s all good. But if you want us to wait two weeks, that’s fine.” He looked at Marquist. “You can have the money and the stuff, but if you think you’re stepping into my father’s shoes just because you fit into his clothes, you’re in for one hell of a rude awakening. The glymera doesn’t even accept their own. You will never have anything but a vacant house to walk around in and shit that isn’t yours to stare at. Rich only looks good from the outside, trust me.”
With that, he walked toward the double doors to go out.
As he came up to Tohr and Rhage, he expected some kind of conversation about how he shouldn’t go into the field tonight. That he was still off rotation. That he needed more time, especially in light of this fresh piece of just wonderful news.
But the Brothers simply opened the way out for him and stepped aside.
Whether it was because they knew they couldn’t stop him or on account of them not knowing where he was headed, he wasn’t sure.
And it didn’t matter.
Just like so much in his life.
As Boone crunched through the frozen slush of an alley off God-only-knew-what street downtown, the cold wind burned his face and his ears. Also his hands. In his rush to leave the house for the showdown with Marquist, he’d forgotten his gloves, but he didn’t care about frostbite. Or what had been revealed about the will. Or the fact that he was essentially homeless.
Or that his father had seen fit to all but erase him from the bloodline. In favor of a civilian stranger who had come into their lives on a whim and changed the path of the family’s history. Likely in more ways than one.
Except again, none of that was on his radar.
At least not consciously.
Although his mind was utterly blank, there were great waves of aggression going through his body, the engine that fueled his state of fighting readiness like a nuclear reactor that was threatening to melt down the core of him.
But he wasn’t pissed off at his father. Nah. He was Just Fucking Fine.
He only wanted to kill every single lesser that had ever existed in the history of the war. And after that was done? He was going to have to find something else to engage because at this moment, in this frame of mind, he was insatiable on an epic scale.
Coming to the end of the alley, he didn’t pause before walking out into a four-lane byway, sparing not even a glance at the cars that sounded their horns and hit their brakes to avoid hitting him. In his wake, he heard crunching metal and cursing voices, and soon there would be sirens. But he would be long gone by that time.
Boone kept on going, progressing down the alley, barreling through other intersections in the grid of decaying buildings. About a half mile later, an opportunity finally presented itself. But it was a case of beggars and choosers’ luck.
Rather than the lessers he was looking for.
The human female who ran out in his path was half dressed, barefoot and bleeding from a number of places. And like all the Hondas and Nissans he had surprised at those intersections, he was forced to hit his brakes without warning—although the treads of his boots were much better than any set of Michelins on the snowy cover. His heavy weight stopped short on demand.
The woman craned around, took one look at him and screamed her head off. Then again, he had bared his fangs twelve blocks ago. And he was easily three times the size of her.
Slipping and skidding, she tore off down the alley away