Mephitic (Anathema #2) - Yolanda Olson Page 0,3
smile. "Say you love Lakyn."
Red shakes her, but the gurgling sound coming from the blonde is a disappointing attempt—if she even fucking tried. Such a waste of space, she didn't even put up a decent enough fight to make the entertainment last a little while. I roll my eyes and stand up, taking another drag on my cigarette as I step back from them, but Red's intense gaze catches my attention. I grin when I realize she’s waiting for me like a good little acolyte, and I blow out the smoke before I nod at her.
"I love Lakyn," Red says, her voice all sweet and calm just before she drags the knife across the blonde bitch's throat without her gaze ever leaving mine. Red’s got pale gray-brown eyes that hold the same glint of worship I've seen in photos of Manson's followers, and I have to admit it's not bad being worshiped. She's young, pretty, and batshit crazy, which means at a minimum I'll let her come along to meet Trixie. After all, she's obviously got more of a spine than the kid.
"What the FUCK, Daphne!" Aftyn shouts, shoving at Ichabod as he finally breaks free and climbs over the coffee table to drop next to the blonde, but I tilt my head and look at him.
"What did you just call her?" I ask, even though Aftyn is too busy having some kind of moment with the corpse of the blonde. Letting out a loud, rolling laugh, I look up at the redhead and slap my leg with my free hand. "Jinkies! Looks like you won, Daphne!"
Her smile stretches, and I lean to look past her, catching Ichabod's worried gaze. "Why the fuck haven't you ever been able to do that?"
Shaking his head, Ichabod clenches his jaw and gets up from the couch, moving to comfort the kid again. If he thinks I'm going to let him test out the younger model, he's forgetting that I don't like to share my toys. Plus, the kid would probably be too sweet with him, and then I'd have to put up with Ichabod doing a half-hearted job the next time I need to get off, which just isn't acceptable.
"So… I get to come with you?" Daphne asks, and I suck my teeth as I look Ichabod over one more time before facing her again.
"Looks like it," I reply, stretching before I drop back into the chair and tap my cigarette on the ash tray. "Unfortunately, I don't have a dog, and my car isn't called the Mystery Machine."
"Zoinks," Daphne deadpans, and I wag my finger at her, chuckling.
"So, were you named after Scooby and the gang?" I ask, and she shrugs, her eyes still glued to mine like I'm the second coming. And who the fuck knows? Maybe I am.
Glancing over at the corpse on the floor, I take a second to admire her lack of hesitation. When I said jump, Red didn’t even bother asking how high—she just went to work, and she already had a knife at the ready. It's been a while since I got to appreciate someone else's work, and it's pretty obvious that this isn't the first time Red has gutted somebody. She's got blood splattered on her cheek and her chest, and the hand still holding the knife is covered in it, but I have a feeling that putting her and Trixie in the same space will be more than a little fun. Just to see if they go for each other's throats or not.
I jerk my chin toward the back of the house. "Go clean yourself up. Bathroom is down the hall. We might as well get on the road."
"I'm coming with you," Ichabod says, standing up to face me, and I grin as he tightens his fists at his sides.
"You really wanna drop your balls today?" I tilt my head, looking down at the bloody mess on the floor. "I thought you wanted to see Beatrix again."
The tension melts off him and I can tell he's thinking about crying. Ichabod has always been too emotional when it comes to that Satan-loving psycho, and I've never understood it, but I figure he might actually go to the mat over this one if I let him think too much.
"Listen, you stay here, clean up this mess." I wave my hand at the dead chick on the floor. "And I'll take the kid to meet his Aunt Trixie. We'll do the family reunion thing, and I'll see