John stayed back, and not just because it was SRO, given the number of large male bodies in the room. He wanted to be near the door.
Xhex's mood had completely shifted.
Sure as if she'd changed her emotional clothes, she'd gone from a flannel nightgown to chain mail: She was twitchy as she stood beside him, her weight shifting back and forth from one foot to the other.
He was feeling much the same.
John looked around. Across the way, Rhage unsheathed a grape Toostie Pop and V lit up a hand- rolled while he got Phury on speakerphone. Rehv, Tohr, and Z were pacing and Butch was on his sofa, pulling a Hugh Hefner in his silk pajamas. Qhuinn, meanwhile, was propped up near the pale blue drapes, and clearly fresh from some grind: His lips were red and his hair had had a lot of fingers through it and his shirt was partially tucked in--hanging loose in front.
Which made you wonder if he was sporting a hard-on.
Where was Blay? John wondered. And who the hell had Qhuinn just balled?
"So V got one f**k of a voice mail in the general mailbox." As Wrath spoke out, his wraparounds scanned the crowd, even though he was totally blind behind them. "Instead of doing a lot of bullshit explaining, I'm going to have him play it for you."
Vishous left the hand-rolled between his lips as he pulled trig on the phone and danced across the numbers on the console putting in mailbox numbers and passwords.
And then John heard that voice. That snarky-ass, cocksucking voice.
"Bet you never expected to hear from me again." Lash's tone was one of grim satisfaction. "Surprise, motherfuckers, and guess what? I'm about to do you a favor. You might want to know that there was a mass induction into the Lessening Society tonight. Farmhouse out RR 149. Happened around four a.m., so if you get off your asses and head there as soon as night falls, you might find them still throwing up all over the place. FYI, wear your waders--it's a mess. Oh, and tell Xhex I can still taste her--"
V canned the speakerphone.
As John's lips peeled off his fangs, and he let out a soundless snarl, the painting on the wall behind him trembled.
When George whimpered, Wrath soothed the dog and pointed the letter opener across the way. "You'll get your chance at him, John. I swear it on my father's grave. I need your head in this game now, though, dig?"
Easier said than done. Reeling in the urge to kill was like restraining a pit bull with one hand behind his back.
Next to him, Xhex frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.
"We cool?" Wrath demanded.
When John finally whistled an assent, Vishous exhaled a cloud of Turkish tobacco and cleared his throat. "He didn't leave an exact address for this so-called massacre. And I tried to trace the number he called from and got nothing."
"The question I'm wondering," Wrath said, "is what the f**k's doing. He's head of the Lessening Society--so if his tone was all I've-got-the- biggest-balls-of-them-all? Hey, cool, I get that shit. But that wasn't my read."
"He's tattling." Vishous stabbed out his hand-rolled in an ashtray. "That's what it sounded like to me--although I'm not willing to bet my big balls on it."
Now that John had his inner pit recaged and was able to think properly, he was inclined to agree with the Brother. Lash was a self-serving shit, and about as trustworthy as a rattlesnake, but the thing was, when you couldn't rely on morality, you could absolutely bank on narcissism: It made the bastard utterly predictable.
John was sure of this--to the point where he felt like he'd been through it all before.
"Is it possible he's been dethroned," Wrath murmured. "Daddy-o maybe decide that the son was not so amusing after all? Or did the evil's shiny, pretty new toy break--is there some shit in Lash's bizarre biology that's just coming out now? I want us to go in assuming it's an ambush...."
There was broad consensus in the room for the plan, as well as some cheap shots involving Lash's ass and various kinds of large-bore instruments of impact: size- fourteen boots being the most likely to come to pass, but hardly the most creative.
For example, John seriously doubted Rhage could in fact park his GTO in the guy's sun-don't-shine. Or would want to.
Man... what a turn of events. And yet it wasn't really surprising--if what they were guessing had actually happened. The Omega was known to go through Fore-lessers like shit through a goose, and blood wasn't necessarily thicker than evil, so to speak. And if Lash had been kicked to the curb, his calling the Brotherhood out to pull a middle finger on his father was brilliant maneuvering--especially as lessers were weakest right after their inductions, and therefore incapable of fighting back.
The Brothers could clean house.
Jesus Christ, John thought. Destiny could make for strange bedfellows.
Xhex was on a low boil as she stood next to John in a study that, but for the desk and throne, could have been mistaken for a French female's parlor.
The sound of Lash's voice coming from that phone made her feel like her stomach had been scrubbed down with ammonia, the burning, churning routine doing a nasty on that poor, well-intended turkey sandwich she'd just had.
And Wrath's assumption that John was going to defend her honor didn't calm things down in there.
"So we infiltrate," the Blind King was saying. "At nightfall, all of you go out 149 and--"
"I'll go now," she said loud and clear. "Give me a pair of guns and a knife and I'll go check it out right now."
Okaaaaaay. Short of pulling the pin on a hand grenade and chucking it into the center of the room, she couldn't have commanded more attention.
As John's emotional grid went dark with oh-no-you-don't, she started the countdown before the explosion hit.
Three... two... one...
"That's a kind offer," the king said as he slid into full cajole-the- female mode. "But I think it's best--"
"You can't stop me." She dropped her arms to her sides--and then reminded herself that she wasn't about to physically attack the guy. Really. She wasn't.
The king's smile was about as warm as dry ice. "I'm sovereign here. Which means if I tell you to hang tight, you're going to goddamn well do that."
"And I'm a symphath. Not one of your subjects. More to the point, you're smart enough not to send your best assets"--she motioned around the room at the Brothers--"into a possible ambush set up by your enemy. I'm disposable--unlike them. Think about it. You going to lose one of them just because you didn't want me to get a little sun today?"
Wrath laughed hard. "Rehv? You want to weigh in on this as king of her kind?"
From across the room, her old boss and dear friend, the f**ker, stared at her with amethyst eyes that knew way too much.
You're going to get yourself killed, he thought at her.
Do not hold me back, she returned at him . I'll never forgive you.
You keep acting like this and forgiveness is the last thing I'm worried about. Your funeral pyre's more like it.
I didn't stop you from going up to that colony when you needed to. Hell, you tied my hands so I couldn't. You saying I don't deserve my revenge? Fuck you.
Rehvenge's jaw clenched so hard she was surprised that when he finally opened his mouth, he didn't spit out his teeth in pieces. "She can go do what she wants. You can't save someone if they don't want the f**king lifeboat."
The male's anger sucked most of the air out of the room, but she was so focused she didn't need her lungs to work properly anyway.
Obsession was as good as oxygen. And anything that had to do with Lash was fuel to her fire.
"I need weapons," she said to the group. "And leathers. A phone for communication."
Wrath growled low and deep. Like he was going to try and lock her down in spite of Rehv's pass.
Walking forward, she planted her palms on the king's desk and leaned in. "Lose me or run the risk of losing them. What's your answer there, Your Highness."
Wrath rose to his feet, and for a moment she got a clear sense that although he was on the throne, he was still lethal as hell. "Watch. Your. Tone. In my f**king house."
Xhex inhaled deeply and calmed herself down. "I apologize. But you've got to see my point."
As the silence expanded, she could feel John looming--and knew that even if she could break through the king's roadblock, she was still going to have a hell of a time getting around the male by the door. But her departure was not open for discussion from anyone.
Wrath cursed low and long. "Fine. Go. I won't be responsible if you get yourself killed."