"Don't worry about getting me the title," Rehv said as he caught it. "Where your Ass-cura is ending up, we don't need paperwork to transfer ownership. Bye for now."
As the door shut behind the drama, Rehv glanced at the key ring. The tag hanging off of it read, SUNY NEW PALTZ.
"What?" he said without looking up.
Xhex's voice was low, seeping out from the dark corner of the office, where she always watched fun and games go down. "If he does it one more time, I want to take care of it."
Rehv fisted the keys and leaned back in his chair. Even if he said no, if Chrissy got cracked again his chief of security would probably roll out a beat-down anyway. Xhex was not like his other employees. Xhex wasn't like anybody.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. She was like him. Half symphath.
Or half sociopath, as was the case.
"You watch the girl," he said to her. "If that sonofabitch gets busy with his class ring again, we'll do a coin toss for who gets to fuck him up."
"I watch all your girls." Xhex walked over to the door, moving with smooth power. She was built like a male, tall and muscular, but she wasn't coarse. In spite of her Annie Lennox haircut and her tight body, she wasn't some bulky she-male bitchsicle in her standard uniform of black muscle shirt and black leathers. No, Xhex was lethal in the elegant way of a blade: quick, decisive, sleek.
And like all daggers she loved drawing blood.
"It's the first Tuesday of the month," she said as she put her hand on the door.
As if he didn't know. "I'm leaving in a half hour."
The door opened and closed, the sound of the club on the other side flaring, then getting cut off.
Rehv lifted his palm. The blood flow was already stopping, and the hole would be closed in another twenty minutes. By midnight nothing would show of the penetration.
He thought of the moment when he'd impaled himself. To feel nothing of your body was an odd kind of paralysis. Although you moved, you didn't recognize the weight of the clothes on your back or whether your shoes were too tight or if the ground beneath your feet was uneven or slippery.
He missed his body, but either he took the dopamine and dealt with the side effects or he tangoed with his evil side. And that was one MMA fight he wasn't sure he could win.
Rehv palmed his cane and carefully eased himself up out of his chair. As a result of his numbness, balance was a bitch and gravity wasn't his friend, so the trip over to the panel on the wall took longer than it should have. When he got over to it, he placed his palm on a raised square and a door-sized panel slid back, all Star Trek and shit.
The black bedroom-and-bath suite that was revealed was one of his three crash pads, and for some reason it had the best shower. Probably because with only a couple hundred square feet, the whole place could go tropical just by running the damn thing.
And when you were cold all the time, that was a serious value-add.
Stripping off his clothes and starting the water, he did a quick shave while he waited for the spray to get nuclear hot. While he ran the razor down his cheeks, the male staring back at him was the same as always. Cropped mohawk. Amethyst eyes. Tattoos on his chest and abs. Long cock lying loose between his legs.
He thought about where he had to go tonight and his vision changed, a red haze gradually replacing all the colors of his sight. He wasn't surprised. Violence had a way of coaxing his evil nature free, like food laid out to the starved, and he'd had only a sweet lick of the plate back in his office just now.
Under normal circumstances, it would be time for more dopamine. His chemical savior kept the worst of his symphath urges at bay, swapping them for hypothermia and impotence and numbness. The side effects sucked, but you had to do what you had to do, and lies required upkeep.
As well as performance.
His blackmailer demanded performance.
Palming his cock, like he could protect it from what it was going to have to do later tonight, he went over and tested the water. Even though steam was thickening the air until he felt like he was breathing cream, the shit wasn't hot enough. It