City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood Page 5

  Without a doubt, Humans just didn’t live long enough.

  “You know, Alice would kill me if I let something happen to you.” Ray flashed Orin a shaky grin, one which said, only if he didn’t kill himself first.

  Orin closed his eyes. “I’m sorry I put you through this.” And he was. “You’re a good friend, Ray. Thank you for putting up with my shit.”

  Ray barked a laugh. “Hey, you held my hair back while I puked away ten years of my life on Jack Daniels. It’s the least I can do.” He snapped the case closed, pulled a couple of napkins from the holder on the table and pressed it into his hand. “Don’t wait too long, Orin.” Yeah, because as high as he’d burned, it was unlikely the artificial feed was going to be worth a damn. “As in, tonight if you can manage it.”

  There were a million thank you’s Orin wanted to give because once again Ray had gone above and beyond the expectations of friendship. But then Humans were like that. Loyal to a fault.

  Instead of some small inspirational speech pledging his appreciation, Orin said, “Just hand me the phone before you leave.”

  After Ray was out the door, Orin dialed the number of the local Stall. It had been more than a year since he’d used their services, but the ten digits he punched into the phone had been his lifeline too many times to forget it.

  There was nothing illegal about buying blood and flesh, even outside of the Gray Zone, the multi-block no man’s land surrounding the Dens. Prostitution was illegal, but since Orin was inhuman the laws wouldn’t apply to him. The same for Lesser-Breds—third generation or more offspring between Humans and dragons. The ones who weren’t Human enough to hide in society made a living servicing Males.

  The phone rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?” A lack of introductions was a way to detour the curious who were looking for a cheap thrill.

  Orin shut his eyes. “I need to arrange a visit.”

  “At this address?” Meaning the one showing up on caller ID.

  “Yeah.”

  “Been a while. You want your regular?”

  “You better send a deuce.” The last thing Orin needed was to take too much and put someone in the hospital. Or worse, kill them. Not all Lesser-Breds healed as quickly as their draconian cousins. And while some might consider them worthless since they were neither Human or Kin, Orin didn’t. It was still a life. God of Man, no wonder Mary didn’t want anyone to know what she was.

  The voice on the other end of the line said, “Time?”

  Hell, what time was it? Orin pulled himself off the floor and checked the clock. It was after four. He was supposed to meet Mary around nine.

  “Soon as possible.”

  Papers rustled. “Twenty minutes?”

  “Yeah.”

  “See you then.”

  The line went dead, and Orin resisted the urge to kick and scream. He got to his feet after five long minutes and hung up the phone. The kitchen was a mess; Ray had bled all over everything. Speaking of which…he looked down at his clothes. The slacks were okay, but the shirt was toast.

  Orin thumbed the buttons open and stripped off the dress shirt. He carried it into the bathroom and ran cold water in the sink and put it in to soak. While the basin filled, he checked his reflection. His skin color was relatively normal, maybe a little pale around his mouth; but the heavy rings under his eyes were gone.

  Which was good. Last thing he needed was to scare the poor souls who were being saddled with the job of feeding him. Orin cut off the water, and his hands closed over the edge of the sink.

  I don’t want to do this.

  And yet, another part of him did. Another part of him really wanted to do it. And it wasn’t just about being safe for Mary. No. He was hungry. Starving. But he’d had so many years to acclimate to the discomfort, he almost couldn’t feel it. Thanks to Serena and her sick little games, Orin’s control was legendary.

  Lucky for Ray.

  Hell, lucky for Athens.

  Then again, if he wasn’t so strong willed, would he have allowed himself to get to this point? Better yet, would he have ever attempted any kind of chemical substitute?

  Doubt it.

  Orin stared at his reflection, and the impossibly bright seafoam green eyes he’d given himself stared back. His face was a sculpture of masculine beauty, a strong straight nose and square chin. Except for his thick crop of mousey brown hair he was bare, perfectly smooth across lightly tanned skin stretched over a muscular frame. No belly button, no pubic hair.

  His body was flawless. And yet what he saw disgusted him.

  Correction--repulsed him.

  Orin took off his glasses and opened the medicine cabinet. In here he kept his favorite ones. All twenty-three pair. The crown jewels in his collection. The other four hundred odd pair occupied the closet in his bedroom.

  For variety, he told himself. When actually, collecting was a compulsion imbedded in the species like vanity or the need for flesh and blood. Collecting was one of the few things about his instincts Orin didn’t fight.

  A light knock brought his head up. They were here.

  Orin didn’t remember walking to the front door and opening it. No, it was kind of like his brain took a moment to recalibrate while his body just did what it wanted to. Two pairs of eyes looked up and met Orin’s gaze. Both men were handsome, but then they would share some of their grandsire’s ethereal perfection. Like most of the Lesser-Breds working the Stalls, their faces were marked, making it impossible for them to pretend to be anything but what they were.

  Monsters. b_d

  Orin didn’t invite them in, he just sort of moved the door out of their way. They stood in the middle of his living room while he pulled all the shades and flipped the dead bolt. He didn’t take them to his bedroom. That was his space. Or more precisely, Mary’s.

  To do something this foul would soil it beyond repair. He led them to the small spare room with high-gloss brown walls and a thick futon mattress. Once inside he shut the door. Shut out everything he was going to do from the rest of the world.

  Chapter 5

  “Why?”

  Haley must have asked the same question a hundred times since Farley got to her apartment. Her long curly hair fell over her shoulders in a heavy veil as she put her face in her hands. At least she wasn’t crying. Maybe the tears had finally run out.

  Farley didn’t want anything between them when he came to bed, so he helped her undress and covered her up. Haley’s dark stare saw nothing, and she looked absolutely fragile in so much grief. It pained something inside him to see her like that. When Farley stood up, she caught his hand.

  “Don’t leave.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “I won’t.” No, he had no intentions of leaving her alone tonight. Even if she had wanted him gone, he would have camped out on her doorstep. “I’m going to nuke a few TV dinners. I’ll be back in a few.” She let him go and burrowed into the covers.

  Farley closed the bedroom door behind him as he headed into the kitchen. He checked the fridge hoping she had some meat thawed. No such luck. Man, he needed to do some grocery shopping for Haley. He took the gallon of milk, popped the top and nursed it while he dug frozen food out of the fridge and crammed it in the microwave. Eating processed food was a poor substitute for fresh meat, but it would have to do.

  This was just one of many reasons why Haley needed other Males besides him. Farley couldn’t feed her as often as she needed it. Ever since Deshi had gone solo with his Human wife, meeting Haley’s needs was proving to be a task. Especially when Dens business kept him occupied for days. Haley needed blood and flesh, but Farley had burned up his resources healing the wounds the two transit cops had given him. Between that and the stress of everything else happening, Farley was in no shape to tend to her.

  Damn it. Why the hell did that cop beat the Male like that?

  Farley scrubbed his hand over his face and waited for the countdown on the microwave. On the counter, beside the keys to Haley’s Mustang, his phone
danced across the Formica like a dime store box of Mexican jumping beans.

  Farley checked the number and groaned. It was Claire. A month ago he would have ignored her, but recently, she’d been making a real effort to be nice. Even to Haley. Last week they went on their first date since September. It had been awkward, and Farley kinda hoped she’d want to end it. No luck. Claire had wanted to go out a day or so later, but Farley had to be in the Dens and it didn’t happen.

  He took a breath and flipped the phone open.

  “Hi Claire, whatcha need?”

  “Hey, I just called to see if you were okay. The office is talking about what happened. You are okay, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.” Farley looked at the microwave and willed the seconds to pass.

  “I thought maybe you’d want to come over, and we could talk. I know what you saw had to be awful.” The microwave beeped, and Farley popped the door. The plastic trays burned his fingers when he pulled them out so he sucked on the ends to cool them off. “I can’t.”

  Claire paused. “Are you with Haley?”

  “Yeah, she was shook up pretty bad. I’m trying to get her to eat.”

  Any minute he expected Claire to fall apart but instead she said, “I could bring you something.”

  Farley double checked the number on the phone to make sure it was really Claire calling. “Uh, yeah, that’s really nice of you. But…”

  “You don’t want me to see you two together, do you?”

  It was his turn to pause, then, “No, not really. You don’t exactly have a real good record of dealing with that kind of thing.”

  “I’m sorry.” And damn if she didn’t sound like she actually meant it.

  Farley pulled the cellophane off the trays and tossed it into the sink. Haley would bitch about it tomorrow, but oh well. He found a fork in the dish drainer and a bowl in the cabinet.

  One by one he scraped the contents of the trays into the bowl and mashed them together.

  Claire said, “I really don’t mind. I’d like to help.”

  Farley sighed. “I think that’s great of you, Claire. I really do. But not tonight, okay? Please understand.”

  “If she’s okay tomorrow, do you think we could go to lunch?” Claire’s voice didn’t even crack. Farley was impressed.

  “Maybe, we’ll see.” It was as close to a commitment as he was willing to give her. Farley hung up and carried the suicide of chicken nuggets, lasagna, macaroni, turkey pot-pie, and pudding back into the bedroom.

  Haley was curled on her side, huddled under the blankets. “You awake?” He sat down beside her and she opened her eyes. “Here, open wide. You need to eat.”

  She shook her head.

  “Don’t make me hold you down and cram this down your throat. I slaved for a whole eight minutes in front of that microwave.” He grinned at her, but she didn’t smile back. He touched her cheek. “Haley, please eat.” When she sat up, he moved over and spooned up the first bite. “Here.” Haley took it and made a face.

  “Oh, that’s terrible. What did you make?” She glanced over the edge of the bowl and shuddered. “What is that? Brownie in with macaroni? What did you do? Take everything out of the freezer and mix it together?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Gross. Come on, you can’t mix the pudding in with the lasagna, that’s just nasty.” Farley pushed another spoon full into her mouth while her lips were moving. She grimaced.

  “Well, you have a choice. This or I can call Claire back. She offered to bring you anything you like.” Haley flipped her eyes up at him and took the bowl. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She ate half before pushing it back into his lap. Farley ate the rest.

  By the time he put the dish on the bedside table the haunted look in her eyes had returned. Farley made short work of kicking off his combat boots, shedding his clothes, and slipping next to her under the sheet. He pulled Haley against him, and she buried her face against his neck.

  Farley shut his eyes and adjusted his hold. How did he tell her? What she’d seen was awful, cruel, vicious…

  “Haley?”

  She made a sound next to his throat. Not quite a word, but it let him know she was listening. He stroked her head. He didn’t want an argument. He didn’t want her to be angry. Haley didn’t understand the hatching grounds. Hell, lots of times she didn’t really understand her own people. At least not beyond her books and the Males she dealt with in the Tank. The ignorance handicapped her. That and her Human impressions.

  When Farley swallowed, his throat felt tight. He said, “It was for the best. As horrible as it was, they were weak. They should have never gotten out of the Hatching grounds.” Farley closed his eyes and waited for her to tense, to get angry, to tell him how this wasn’t the Dens. But all he got was silence. When Farley cracked an eyelid, Haley was looking at him, her face tight, but her eyes…They conveyed understanding. “You’re not yelling at me?”

  “You’re right.” With a sigh she pressed closer. “I spoke with them. They were…Food. There’s no way they got out of the Hatching grounds on their own.” Which meant someone helped them get out. “Do you think Re’kah would do something like that on purpose? I mean, send them out so young?”

  Farley said, “She has a reputation for cruelty.” But then, what Queen didn’t? It took a certain type of nastiness to be Queen – that and a lot of power. He sighed. “I don’t know. I’m not exactly in a position to find out that kind of information. It’s Queens’ business.”

  “I really need to know. If her cast outs keep winding up in Atlanta, it could cause a lot of problems. Maybe I should ask Medan.”

  It was Farley’s turn to shudder. “If you say so, but do me a favor and try calling her on the phone or something. I don’t think I could stand having to see her in person again.”

  Haley let out a small laugh and said, “You and me both.”

  Chapter 6

  Something woke Haley up. According to the clock on her nightstand, it was two. As in two AM. Haley blinked, trying to clear the fuzz from her brain. A heavy pounding sounded from the front room as someone proceeded to beat the hell out of her door.

  The Browning Building Haley lived in was pretty much a way-station for geriatric Humans waiting for the one-way train. And elderly Humans weren’t known for their late night parties. Which meant it was highly unlikely someone had the wrong apartment. Haley grabbed her robe and headed to the door.

  “Haley, it’s me. Please, open the door.” Months had passed since The Jersey City Prince had spoken to her. And their last conversation hadn’t exactly been all rainbows and kittens.

  There had been a puppy though, or at least what was left of it.

  As soon as the dead bolt was off and the chain loose, Deshi pushed his way inside.

  Two years ago Deshi made the mistake of marrying a Human. He claimed he loved her, which was fine, but the problem was, Emily Autry didn’t love him back. Emily loved his money. Unlike other Males, Deshi had a Mother, which made him a Prince. Specifically produced, cultivated, and groomed into a Queen’s ideal of physical perfection, Deshi was presented as a gift to the Queen of Atlanta from the Queen of Jersey City.

  With his blond hair, blue eyes, tall stature, and perfect physique, Deshi looked like he belonged in an art museum with the title “Sun God” or “Apollo” – a living testament to the level of vanity infecting the species. And his perfection was a confirmation of his Mother’s skill in genetic selection and metaphysical manipulation.

  Unfortunately, Medan turned Deshi down and sent him out on his own. Then he met Emily. And that’s when things went really bad.

  While Deshi made all of Emily’s dreams come true, she wouldn’t give him the one thing he needed, a Link. Without it, there was no bond between them so he could feed from her, the taking of flesh, blood, and metaphysical energy. And since Emily was all about monogamy, Deshi was SOL.

  So the Prince came to Haley a few months into his marriage after he killed Emily’s Chihuahua a
nd ate it. Up until recently, Emily thought the dog had just run away, but then it happened again.

  Only the golden retriever had made a much bigger mess.

  In spite of her promises, Emily still wouldn’t bond with the Jersey City Prince, and Deshi wasn’t going to make her. And now they were all out of dogs to take one for the team.

  Sagging against the wall, Deshi’s face was a haggard expression of exhaustion. And he still looked like some sort of Greek god.

  Haley shut the door and flipped the lock. “Are you okay?”

  What she really meant is, please don’t tell me you ate Emily.

  Deshi nodded, then shook his head. Haley inhaled his scent. He didn’t smell like blood and Human flesh. Actually, he smelled fed. God of Man, did the crazy woman finally bond with him?

  No, something was wrong. Deshi was shaking like a leaf in the wind and putting out enough heat for a full shift. Haley touched his face and he flinched.

  “I’m sorry.” She knew he meant for his reaction. She was Female, and he was a well-schooled Male. Negative reaction to a Female’s touch was an insult.

  As in a getting-your-throat-torn-out kind of insult.

  “It’s okay, Deshi. You want to sit down? Talk?”

  Deshi shook his head, but he didn’t resist when Haley led him into the kitchen and sat him down on one of the stools at the bar.

  He stayed there for a while looking very scared, very lost. Haley stood close by but not touching. The silence stretched on forever.

  “Emily’s pregnant.” Deshi made a face, like maybe saying it out loud was a total accident.

  Haley touched his arm, not sure what to tell him. His breath leaked out of his lungs, and his shoulders dropped.

  “She doesn’t know I know.” Deshi closed his eyes, and his head fell into his hands. “She has an appointment at a abortion clinic next week. I found the card in her coat pocket yesterday when I was looking for the car keys.”

  “Deshi…” What the hell did she say? Killing Deshi’s unborn had to be the evil of evils for him. From birth, Kin fight to live, doing whatever it takes to survive the hatching ground, but killing the unborn was cowardice. While Half-Breeds were rare and not desirable by either Kin or Humans, it was still a life.