the bass roar itself.
The thunder came from elsewhere in the gym.
In the middle of the round, there was a tremendous WHOOMP! as a solid body hit the blue mats
like a bag of sand. Both John and his opponent glanced over… then abandoned their meager
mixed-martial-arts attempts.
Zsadist was working with Blaylock, one of John's two best friends. The redhead was the only
trainee who'd been through the change so far, so he was twice the size of everyone else in the
class. And Z had just rugged the guy.
Blaylock sprang to his feet and once more faced off again like a trooper, but he was just going to
get his ass handed to him again. As big as he was, Z was a giant as well as a member of the
Black Dagger Brotherhood. So Blay was facing a Sherman tank with a fuckload of fighting
experience.
Man, Qhuinn should be here to see this. Where was the guy?
All eleven trainees let out a «Whoa!» as Z calmly clipped Blay off balance, tossed him sunny-
side down on the mats, and cranked him into a bone-bending submission hold. The instant Blay
tapped out, Z got off him.
As Zsadist stood over the kid, his voice was as warm as it ever got. «Five days out of your
transition and you're doing good.»
Blay smiled, even though his cheek was mashed into the mat like it had been glued down there.
«Thank you…» He panted. «Thank you, sire.»
Z extended his hand and hooked Blay off the floor just as the sound of a door opening echoed
through the gym.
John's eyes bulged at what came in. Well, shit… that explained where Qhuinn had been all
afternoon.
The male coming slowly across the mats was a six-foot-five-inch, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound
likeness of someone who'd weighed about as much as a bag of dog food the day before. Qhuinn
had been through the transition. God, no wonder the guy hadn't Y-messy'd or texted during the
day. He'd been busy growing a new body.
As John lifted his hand, Qhuinn nodded back like his neck was stiff or maybe his head was
pounding. The guy looked like shit and moved as if every bone in his body hurt. He also fiddled
with the collar of his new XXXL fleece like the feel of it was bugging him, and he kept jacking
his jeans up with a wince. His black eye was a surprise, but maybe he'd bumped into something
in the middle of the transition? Word had it you flailed around a lot when you were changing.
«Glad you showed,» Zsadist said.
Qhuinn's voice was deep as he replied, a totally different cadence from before. «I wanted to come
even though I can't work out.»
«Good call. You can chill over there.»
As Qhuinn went to the sidelines he met Blay's eyes and they both smiled real slow. Then they
looked at John.
Using American Sign Language, Qhuinn's hands spelled out, After class we go to Blay's. Have a
shitload to tell both of you.
As John nodded, Z's voice cracked through the gym. «Kibitzing break's over, ladies. Don't make
me lap your asses, because I will.»
John faced his little partner and settled into his ready position.
Even though one of the trainees had died from the change, John couldn't wait for his to hit. Sure,
he was pants-down terrified, but better to be dead than stuck in the world as a sexless scrap of
flesh at the mercy of others.
He was beyond ready to be male.
He had family business to take care of with the lessers.
Two hours later, V was as satisfied as he ever got. Not surprisingly, the female was in no shape
to dematerialize home, so he put her in a robe, hypnotized her into a stupor, and took her down
in the building's freight elevator. Fritz was waiting at the curb with the car, and the elderly
doggen didn't ask any questions after her address was given.
As always, that butler was a godsend.
Alone again in the penthouse, V poured himself some Goose and sat down on the bed. The rack
was covered with hardened wax, blood, her arousal, and the results of his orgasms. It had been a
messy session. But the acceptable ones always were.
He took a long pull from his glass. In the dense silence, in the aftermath of his perversions, in the
cold slap of his zero reality, a cascade of sensual images came to him. What he'd seen weeks ago
and now remembered had been caught by mistake, but he'd macked the scene like a pickpocket
anyway, stashing it in his frontal lobe even though it didn't belong to him.
Weeks ago he'd seen Butch and Marissa… laying together. It had been when the cop was