moving slowly toward the edge of his vision.
During the trip home, he found himself feeling glad iAm wasn't a talker.
Although it wasn't as if he didn't know what the guy was thinking.
Too much stress. Too many headaches.
He probably needed to feed as well - but that was not happening for a while.
As his brother drove with alacrity, Trez passed the time picturing where they were in the city; what traffic lights they were going through or stopping at; what turns they were making; where the Commodore was, its towering length looming higher and higher the closer they got.
A sudden decline told him that they were going into the parking garage - and that he'd fallen behind in his mental mapping: as far as he'd known, they were still a couple of blocks away.
Lot of left-hand turns came next as they spiraled down three floors and parked in one of the two spots they were allotted.
By the time they filed into the elevator and iAm punched the eighteenth button, the aura had wandered off the confines of his vision, disappearing as if it had never been.
Calm before the storm.
"Thanks for driving me home," he said. And meant it. He hated relying on anyone else, but it was pretty damn hard not to hit anything when you had a neon sign flashing in the back of both eyeballs.
"I figured it was better this way."
"Yeah."
He and his brother hadn't talked about the high priest's visit since it happened, but that hi-how're-ya from AnsLai was still very much between them - but at least iAm had put aside the pissed off long enough to get him back here.
Trez's first clue that the headache was gearing up was the way the subtle ding that announced its destination shot through his brain like a bullet.
He groaned as the doors slid open. "This is going to be bad."
"Didn't you have one last week?"
He wondered how many more people could ask him that.
iAm took care of the lock on the door, and Trez dumped his jacket three feet into the apartment. He shed his black cashmere sweater on the way down to his bedroom, and was unbuttoning his silk shirt as he walked into -
As he froze, the one and only thing that shot through his head was that scene from the movie Trading Places - when Eddie Murphy walks into his room at the fancy digs and a half-naked chick sits up in his bed and goes, "Hey, Billy Ray."
The difference in this situation was that his stalker, the one with the bouncer boyfriend and the trust issues, was blond, and not wearing early eighties Spandex pants. Matter of fact, she was fully, motherfucking, buck-ass naked.
The gun that appeared over his shoulder was steady and accessorized with a suppressor.
So iAm could have killed her, no problem.
"I thought you'd be glad to see me," the chippie said, looking back and forth between him and his brother's muzzle.
Like she wanted to make herself more appealing, she lifted one arm to fuss with her hair - but if she were hoping her breasts would sway enticingly, she was out of luck: Those rock-hard falsies of hers were as unmovable as something bolted to a wall.
"How did you get in here," Trez demanded.
"Aren't you glad to see me?" When no one answered her, and that gun stayed up, she pouted. "I got friendly with the security guard, okay. What. Oh, come on...fine, I blew him, okay."
Classy.
And that dumb-ass bastard rent-a-cop was going to be out of a job.
Trez walked over to the pile of clothes by the end of the bed. "Put these back on and get out."
God, he was tired.
"Oh, come on," she whined as her things fluttered all around her. "I just wanted to surprise you when you got home from work. I thought this would make you happy."
"Well, it doesn't. You need to get the fuck out - " As she opened her mouth like she was going to go psycho on him, he shook his head and cut her off. "Don't even think about it. I'm not in the mood, and my brother over here really doesn't care whether you walk out of here or get carried out in a bag. Get dressed. Get out."
The chippie looked back and forth again. "You were so nice to me the other night."
Trez winced as the pain stepped up to the plate and started swinging on the right side of his head. "Honey, I'm going to be real honest