out. He came over and put his keys in her palm, knowing that V had another set so they could still get in the Escalade if they had to.
In a flash, the female turned and ran, her child a heavy, jangling load.
As Butch watched them go, he knew that little girl's face was going to keep him up at night. Unlike her mother, she was totally calm. Like this kind of violence was business as usual.
With a curse, he jogged over to the house and shouted, "V, I'm coming in."
Vishous's voice drifted down from the second floor.
"There's no one else in here. And I didn't get a plate on that minivan that took off."
Butch checked out the body in the doorway. Male vampire, looked thirty-four years old or so. Then again, they all did until they started to age.
With his foot, Butch nudged the guy's head. It was loose as a bow on a present.
V's shitkickers came down the stairs. "He still dead?"
"Yup. You got him good-shit, your neck's bleeding. Did I shoot you?"
V put his hand up to his throat, then looked at the blood on his palm. "Don't know. He and I went at it in the back of the house and he nailed me with the saw, so this could be from anything. Where's Rhage?"
"Right here." Hollywood walked in. "I went through the woods. All clear. What happened to the mother and the kid?"
Butch nodded to the front door. "In the Escalade. They should go to the clinic. Mom has fresh bruises."
"Let's you and I take them," V said. "Rhage, why don't you get back to the twins?"
"Good deal. They're heading downtown now to hunt. Be safe, you two."
As Rhage dematerialized, Butch said, "What do you want to do with the body?"
"Let's put it around back. Sun'll be up in a couple of hours and that'll take care of it."
The two of them picked up the male, walked him through the grungy house, and laid him out next to the rotting shell of a Barcalounger.
Butch paused and looked at the hacked-out rear door. "So this guy shows up and goes all Jack Nicholson on his wife and tad. Meanwhile, the lessers have been scoping out the place and lucky, lucky they pick tonight to Page 217
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attack."
"Bingo."
"You get many domestic problems like this?"
"In the Old Country, sure, but here I haven't heard of many."
"Maybe they're just not being reported."
V rubbed his right eye, which was twitching. "Maybe. Yeah... maybe."
They went through what was left of the back door and locked it as best they could. On the way to the front exit, Butch saw a ratty stuffed animal in the corner of the living room, like it had been dropped there. He picked the tiger up, only to frown. The damn thing weighed a ton.
He tucked it under his arm, took out his cell phone, and made two quick calls as V worked on the front door to get it to shut. Then they walked over to the Escalade.
Butch cautiously approached the driver's side with his hands out, the tiger dangling from one palm. And Vishous went around the hood with the same nice-'n-easy routine, coming to a halt about three feet away from the passenger door. Neither of them moved.
The wind blew in from the north, a cold, wet rush that made Butch feel the aches from the fight.
After a moment, the locks in the car were released with a punching sound.
John couldn't stop staring at Blaylock. Especially in the shower. The guy's body was huge now, muscles sprouting from all different places, fanning out from his spine, filling his legs and shoulders, jacking up his arms. Plus he was easily six inches taller. Christ, he had to be six-foot-four now.
But the thing was, he didn't look happy. He moved awkwardly, facing the tiled wall for most of the time he washed. And going by his flinching, the soap he used seemed to irritate him, or maybe his skin itself was the problem. Plus he kept trying to get under the spray, only to step back and adjust the temperature.
"You going to fall in love with him now, too? Brothers might get jealous."
John glared over at Lash. The guy was smiling as he washed his little chest, a thick diamond chain catching the suds.
"Yo, Blay, you better not drop that soap. John-boy over here's eyeing your meat like you read about."
Blaylock ignored the comment.
"Yo, Blay. You heard me? Or you daydreaming about John-boy