The Butcher of the Bay Part II - J. Bree Page 0,16
clears his throat and I finally look over at where he’s standing there with Smith. They’re both staring at me, Smith with a small, disapproving frown. When he comes to pull my chair out I stand up and follow him dutifully, the both of us walking over to Lord Devareux and then following him back through the mansion. It’s big enough that I make note of where I’m turning and what is around me so I can find my way back out through the door when I’m ready to make my escape. The vases and sculptures help, all of them unique enough to work as markers.
We go up two flights of stairs and down two separate hallways before we finally make it to my room. Lord Devareux ushers me in but stays at the door, holding up a little key.
"I must lock the door. It's for your safety, I've had girls try to run before and I wouldn't want you to be hurt. My land has a lot of wild animals on it, enough that you could be harmed if you went out without protection. I’m the only one with a key so you are quite safe here. Ring the bell if there's anything you need, my sweet. I'll come for you."
For me.
It could be a slip of the tongue but I'd never trust him not to try something while I sleep.
So I don't.
I lay down in the bed and I wait, my hand clenched tightly around the handle of the knife and I wait for him to come.
I'm not wrong.
He comes for me.
But he's not expecting what he gets.
Chapter Five
Illi
I come to a screeching halt outside the group home and the kid dives out from the shadows, sliding into my car and I'm off again before the passenger car door is shut all the way.
She's in all black, big combat boots on her feet, and her bag slung unzipped as she starts strapping on holsters and sliding her weapons into place. I've never seen the kid carry so many different options.
I’m glad she packed for war.
She smirks at me as she clips the holster with the knife onto her thigh. “Whoever you called did a great job on the Jackal's business. Fuck, they took everything."
I smirk, smug as fuck about how fucking pissed the poser asshole is going to be about it all. "I met a guy, kind of a dick but he's come in handy. I might keep him as an informant, even if he is a Demon."
She scoffs. "Do I even want to know what the hell a Demon is? Isn't it bad enough that we have the Jackal and the Vulture roaming the streets of the Bay?"
I chuckle, checking my mirrors to make sure the bikers are keeping up with my tactical driving, and by tactical I mean swerving and running every fucking red light because I need to get to my girl right the fuck now.
"Chaos Demons, kid. Bikers from Indiana mostly, bad news. You see them, you turn and walk the fuck away. I don't need to be hunting you down in their fucking lair because one of them likes what you're selling."
She finishes up with the strapping and finally buckles the seatbelt over her tiny body. "I'm not selling anything. Guys aren't fucking worth the trouble."
Good.
Okay, that's a fucking weird thing to think. She's not actually my sister so it shouldn't bother me about her jumping into bikers’ beds but, fuck, nope. Don't like that idea at all.
Growing a conscience is fucking wild, man.
"Right. So stay away from them."
She scoffs at me as she looks out over the highway. "I stay away from all bikers, as much as I can anyway. I have to deal with the Unseen a fair bit but I don't make friends with them."
I don't think she makes friends with anyone.
Again, this shouldn't make me happy.
"You ever been to Nevada before kid? Maybe once we have Odie we can stop for burgers."
She shrugs. "I've never left the Bay."
That's fucking sad. I mean, I always come back here but I've traveled and done shit. Mostly for work but I've gone and eaten the food, seen the sights.
It's hard to remember she's only fourteen sometimes.
I expect her to fall asleep or demand the radio on or something but she doesn't. She just sits there, alert and assessing, the entire five-hour drive.
I can’t stand the silence for once because my mind is a fucking mess of rage and bloodlust. I want to