Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
It was a sad state of affairs. And a deadly one.
On that note, Zsadist’s palms rotated from the vertical to the horizontal. And then he lifted the top one and presented Darius’s black dagger back to its owner—who promptly took the weapon.
His vacant stare shifted over to Vishous.
And then, without a word, like the wraith he was, he dematerialized.
Darius let out an exhale. “Jesus.”
“I have to go,” Phury muttered. “I’m not sure how he found out about this place.”
“We’ll take care of everything here.” Darius glanced at V, who nodded in return. “You just take care of your twin.”
“Would that that were possible.”
As the brother dematerialized as well, Vishous came forward, stepping around a bucket of human slop. And another. And a third.
Putting one of his guns away, he lit up a hand-rolled. “Didn’t expect Z’d be the one we needed backup against.”
“He must have caught a new slayer tonight, too.”
“Bet that interrogation got messy.”
“You’re saying yours wasn’t?”
“Touché.”
Darius kept both daggers in his hands as he went over to some discarded clothes. Riffling through the jackets and the shirts, he found no IDs, and yet he lingered over the pile. Something was ringing in the back of his head, some kind of instinct or reminder. Then again, maybe it was just residual adrenaline burping out of his endocrine system.
“We’re going to have to do something about this,” Vishous said from the kitchen’s archway.
“Well, you still believe in the prophecy. Don’t you?”
“I’m not talking about the Omega.”
Rising to his feet, Darius glanced across the induction site—and wished they could argue over something as simple as the root of all evil. “You can’t kill a member of the Brotherhood. It’s against the Old Laws.”
“This is the New World. And who’s checking anyway.”
“You just can’t. Even if it’s Zsadist.”
Those diamond eyes narrowed, the tattooed warning at the fighter’s temple distorting. “You think it’s productive for you and me to be worried about whether one of our own is going to go haywire and hurt us? We shouldn’t have to defend ourselves against a brother.”
“You kill him, you’re killing Phury, too. We lose two.”
“No, we get rid of a threat that’s a deadly distraction, and if that twin of his self-destructs in the aftermath, that’s collateral damage for the greater good. Besides, like Phury does anything but protect that sociopath?”
“There is no greater good.” Darius kicked one of the buckets, the congealing red blood sloshing up the sides. “To any of this.”
And that was the problem, wasn’t it.
“Is the second floor clear?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Vishous exhaled a stream of that Turkish smoke. “The Omega had his fun and games with them on one of the mattresses. It looks like a scene from a snuff film up there.”
Glancing around, Darius felt like he was getting nowhere in life. “Time to get rid of the evidence,” he muttered.
“I don’t have any bombs on me.”
“I’ll get what we need,” he said as he dematerialized.
* * *
When Darius re-formed, it was in the back of his own property, by the detached garage. And as soon as he was fully corporeal, he intended to set out for what he’d come to get. But then he looked at the rear door.
Drawn forward, he was a moth to a flame.
Through the windows, he could see into the kitchen, and this was why he was snared: Fritz and Anne were sitting across from each other at the casual dining table, plates off to one side, fans of cards held up in front of them.
Frowning, his first thought was… how in the hell had she gotten that traditional doggen to eat with her? And now it looked like she was teaching the old male gin rummy?
Anne let out a sudden laugh, throwing her head back—and Fritz smiled sheepishly as he pointed a gnarled finger at the draw pile. When she nodded, he took a card, and as he figured out where to put it into his fan, she absently sipped from her glass. Then he said something, and she clapped with approval.
As Fritz flushed with happiness, his face showed a kind of joy that Darius couldn’t remember ever seeing on the butler’s face.
Without a conscious cue, Darius’s hand reached up and rested on the old antique glass—
The moment he made contact, the butler glanced over, as if he had sensed his master’s presence—and Darius shook his head sharply. With a subtle nod, Fritz resumed his concentration on the card game.
I should go… Darius told himself.
And yet as he stared at Anne, he couldn’t seem to move—especially as he realized… she was what was missing in his life. She was his greater good, his higher calling. Forsaken by his King, and disaffected by his larger purpose for the race, he knew that he could be in service to this human female. Yes, he could take care of her…