searching for just the right combination of physical strength, mental acuity, and unchanneled hatred.
When he'd been approached to join the Lessening Society in the 1950s, he'd been a seventeen-year-old greaser in a juvenile delinquent program. The year before he'd stabbed his father in the chest after the bastard had knocked him one too many times in the head with a beer bottle. He'd hoped to kill the man, but unfortunately his father had survived and lived long enough to go home and kill Mr. X's mother.
But at least dear old Dad had had the sense to blow his own head all over the wall with a shotgun afterward. Mr. X had found the body on a visit home, right before he'd been caught and thrown into the system.
On that day, as he'd stood over his father's corpse, Mr. X had learned that screaming at the dead wasn't even remotely satisfying. There was, after all, nothing to be taken from someone who was already gone.
Considering who'd sired him, it was no accident that violence and hatred were thick in Mr. X's blood. And killing vampires was one of the few socially acceptable outlets for a murder streak like his. The military was a bore. Too many rules, and you had to wait until an enemy was declared before you could get to work. And serial killing was too small-scale.
The society was different. He had everything he'd ever wanted. Unlimited funds. The chance to kill every time the sun went down. And, of course, there was that all-important opportunity to mold the next generation.
So he'd had to sell his soul to get in. That was not a problem. After what his father had done to him, there hadn't been much of it left anyway.
In his mind, he'd definitely come out on the money side of the trade. He was guaranteed to be young and in perfect health until the day he died. And his death would be predicated not on some biological failure, like cancer or heart disease, but on his own ability to keep himself in one piece.
Thanks to the Omega, he was physically superior to humans, his eyesight was perfect, and he got to do what he liked best. The impotence had bothered him a little at the beginning, but he'd gotten used to that. And the not eating or drinking… well, it wasn't as if he'd been a gourmand anyway.
Besides, making blood run was better than food or sex any day.
When the door to the arena opened abruptly, he shot a glare over his shoulder. It was Billy Riddle, and the guy had two black eyes and a bandaged nose.
Mr. X cocked an eyebrow. “You sitting out today, Riddle?”
“Yes, sensei.” Billy bowed his head. “But I wanted to come anyway.”
“Good man.” Mr. X put his arm around Riddle's shoulders. “I like your commitment. Tell you what—you want to put them through their paces during the warm-up?”
Billy bowed deeply, his broad back going nearly parallel to the floor. “Sensei.”
“Go to it.” He clapped the guy on the shoulder. “And don't take it easy on them.”
Billy looked up, his eyes flashing.
Mr. X nodded. “Glad to see you get the point, son.”
When Beth walked out of her building, she frowned at the unmarked police car parked across the street. José got out and jogged over to her.
“I heard what happened.” His eyes lingered on her mouth. “How you feelin' ?”
“Better.”
“Come on, I'm giving you a ride to work.”
“Thanks, but I want to walk.” Jose's jaw set like he wanted to argue, so she reached out and touched his forearm. “I won't let this scare me so badly that I can't live my life. I've got to walk by that alley at some point, and I'd rather do it for the first time in the morning, when there's plenty of light.”
He nodded. “Fine. But you're going to call a cab at night or you're going to get one of us to pick you up.”
“José—”
“Glad you see it our way.” He walked back across the street. “Oh, and I don't suppose you've heard what Butch O'Neal did last night?”
She almost didn't want to ask. “What?”
“He paid a little visit to that punk. I understand the guy had to get his nose set again after our good detective was finished with him.” José opened the car door and dropped down into the seat. “Now, are we gonna be seeing you today?”
“Yeah, I want to know more about that car bomb.”
“Thought so. See you in a