City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood (35 page)

Clothes were another issue, because the ones he’d been wearing last night were ash in the gutter.

Damn. And he had liked those pants.

A knock on the door made him jump.

“Can I turn on the lights?” Claire said.

“Yeah.” Farley did his best to prepare his retinas for the assault. No pain there either. Things were definitely looking up.

“Can I come in?” Claire cracked the door a little, then pulled it shut. “Sorry, didn’t know you weren’t decent.”

“Not like I have anything you haven’t already seen.” What the hell was with Humans? Even after they knew your body intimately, they’d go all twitchy when skin was exposed.

“I just…well…”

You’re Human
. “What do you want?” Farley kicked at the coats and itchy blankets. There was going to be no explaining the mess he’d left. He decided the hell with it and shoved it all in the corner, then christened it with the soaking towel. Housekeeping could deal with it. They were probably used to walking in on this kind of aftermath. After all, this was the Tank.

From behind the door, Claire said, “I brought you something to eat and some clothes.”

“I need a shower first.” Boy, did he ever. He smelled like blood, sex, road grime and track rabbits. Speaking of which, Farley blew his breath into his palm. Oh, yeah, there was no kissing anyone with that mouth until he flossed with piano wire and rinsed with bleach.

Not to mention, now that the lights were on, he could see how filthy he really was. His body looked like someone had used him for a toilet brush. That actually made him feel better about the blankets and coats. No sane person would have used the things without washing them first. Not after he put his nasty ass skin all over them. A smart person would just burn ’em.

Farley yanked open the door and Claire jumped. Just below the observation window there was a paper sign which read,
do not disturb, do not open, do not turn on lights
. The last part was underlined three times.

He looked at Claire and a bright red flush blossomed on her cheeks, clashing with her blue sweater.

“Here…” Claire tried to hand him a towel.

“Towel is clean.” And he sure wasn’t.

Claire said something else but Farley ignored her and headed down the hall.

“Wait!”

As Farley walked he rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms, cracked his knuckles, and fired off his neck with a twist. Ahh…that felt better.

The Tank was pretty much empty, but the corridor leading over to the Center wasn’t. Several people stopped and stared. A couple cops even did a quick point and laugh. Farley threw a glance back at Claire. She was bright red and had her hand part way over her face.

Like it was her naked and not him.

Farley scratched his face, chest, butt, getting dried blood under his fingernails. Damn, he could play tic-tac-toe on his skin. Jesus, how did Terry stand having him in her car?

Two lady cops shot him a whistle as he took a right toward the locker rooms. Another stopped and stared at the doorway as she exited the ladies dressing area. Farley smiled, waved, and kept walking.

When he entered the Men’s side, Ken from IT came out of one of the stalls and cracked a grin. “Forget something this morning?”

“Been one of those nights, my man.” Farley took a right into the showers, stopped at the first one he came to, threw the water on boil, stepped in, and let it slap him in the face. It took a few seconds, but eventually the jet spray was hissing from the heat. Steam billowed white into the air.

Was it a figment of Farley’s imagination, or did he spend half his life under a jet spray and soap? Thank you, God of Man, for indoor plumbing! But then nothing about his job was ever neat and clean.

Farley leaned against the wall and peed in the drain. His bladder thanked him for the relief.

From around the corner Claire’s soft apology echoed against the tiles. It was followed by the sounds of her soft steps on the wet tile. Farley really missed Haley’s heels. Dangerous points ticking off her steps. Damn, he still needed to call her.

“Where do you want this?”

Farley cracked an eye. Claire stood outside the stall with her arms loaded down. A partially unraveled towel thrown on top of clothes, bundled with…

Holy fuck.

“Are those Twinkies?”

“Yeah.” Claire tried to shuffle the clothes around.

“Give’em.”

“You’re in the shower.”

“Don’t care, hand ‘em over.” Farley’s mouth was watering just thinking about all that sugary goodness.

“Farley, you can’t be serious! They’ll get--” He snatched the box out from under the pile and ripped off the end. A little Twinkie explosion sent the cellophane wrapped cakes all over the shower floor. Farley snatched up two, tore off the ends and shoved them into his mouth.

“Oh God, yes!” Happy noises bubbled from his chest. “Man…” He searched for another, grabbed two more and did a repeat. Claire glared and he pretended not to notice.

She huffed and crossed her arms. “Why did you run off last night?”

Man, here he was trying to enjoy a total palate orgasm and she was doing her best to ruin it. He picked up the last two and crammed them in his pie hole. This time he chewed, slow. With any luck she’d get bored and go away.

Which of course she didn’t.

Farley pumped out a handful of soap from the dispenser on the wall and proceeded to scrub himself down.

“Farley…”

“What?”

“Answer me.”

“Why?”

She made an angry sound and put the pile she was carrying down on a bench. “Why do you have to be such a jerk?”

Farley stuck his head under the spray and raked his fingers over his scalp until it burned. When he came back up she was still there with all her weight bearing down on one leg. It was a stance which threatened she would grow roots and stay there unless he said what she wanted to hear.

Farley filled his hands up with soap and lathered his body again all over. When he got to his waist he turned to face her, hands going to his groin, working up lather. He even cocked a leg, so she could get a real good look as he scrubbed the underside of his leg and slid soapy hands up his ass crack.

Claire stared, angry, refusing to look away. That is, until a cop walked by grinning.

Farley jabbed a finger at her. “That’s why, Claire. Right there.” He put his leg down and rinsed off.

She waved a hand in front of her face. “I can’t help it if I get embarrassed. It’s normal.”

“For Humans, yeah.” He ducked under the water, wishing it was hotter.

Farley took another handful of soap and sucked it up in his mouth and sloshed it around. Claire made a face. He spit. “If you knew what I’ve been eating you wouldn’t look at me like that.” He stuck his finger in his mouth and scrubbed the soap over his teeth. When he looked up Claire was holding out a toothbrush and a little tube of paste.

Well, didn’t she just think of everything?

Feeling a little more like an ass, Farley muttered thanks, took the brush and squeezed the entire tube into his mouth. With enough force to knock enamel off his teeth, then he scrubbed his tongue until he tasted blood.

“Garrett said you saved a lot of people last night.”

He tossed Claire a sideways glance and shoved the toothbrush to the back of his throat.

Did he tell you I ate a half-breed?

Doubt it.

Farley spit. “Just doing my job.”

“I think it was brave of you.”

Again he tossed his eyes in her direction, not trusting where this was going at all. Claire’s gaze was off somewhere down the waterlogged walkway. She didn’t even seem to notice there were other naked bodies in the surrounding stalls.

Farley rinsed his mouth out in the spray, gargled and spit. He put the toothbrush on the ledge. When everything appeared clean he shut off the water. Claire handed him a towel.

“You going to dress me too?” It was mean and he didn’t care.

She shook her head and stepped aside. Farley scrubbed the towel over himself then wrapped it around his waist. It was as close to an apology as he was in the mood to give.

“Since you got Inoata, does that mean you’ll be out of the Dens for a while?”

He frowned because there was a little too much anticipation in her tone. Since telling her about the GLG wasn’t an option, he said, “Yeah, in fact I’m going out of town for a few days.”

“Where?”

His knee jerk reaction was to ask her why she wanted to know. Then he thought about the Twinkies and how she didn’t have to do that. Or the other stuff, come to think of it.

With a sigh Farley sat down on the bench and looked through the pile of clothes. There was a black long sleeve shirt and a pair of black skaters, with a few studs and with black chains hanging off the sides. They smelled like Claire’s house. He’d been wondering where that pair had gotten off to.

Her loud sigh reminded him that she was still waiting on an answer.

Farley said, “I’m not sure yet.”

“We could go to the lake.”

We. We? He blinked at her. After what she said last night? Was she serious?

Fine. Two could play this game.

“I’m probably going to meet up with Haley.” He felt pleased when her eyes darkened and her mouth turned into a slash.

“Oh...I figured since she went with a friend…”

Friend? And friend was an obvious stand in for fuck buddy, suggesting Farley should be totally jealous.

This was just too easy.

Farley grinned. “Don’t worry, she’ll share, she always does.” It took a second but Claire’s eyes went wide. “I told you, Claire. I won’t change my ways. Ever.”

She turned her head away, blinking fast. Farley left the boxers and pulled on the skaters. He frowned and fondled the sweat socks. He needed shoes. His boots were toast, like the rest of his clothes. That was what? Three pair this week? No wonder he never had any money.

Since he was SOL on the shoes he stuck the socks in his pocket. Maybe vice would have an extra pair? He’d always wanted some of those heavy duty pavement bashers. Real shitkickers. The ass stomping kind.

Claire made an angry sound. “I thought you cared about me?”

Farley rolled his eyes and said, “This isn’t about my feelings for you.” No, this was about her feelings about him. Or rather his inhuman behavior.

Farley scrubbed a hand over his scalp. His hair was long enough to actually fold over his fingers now and form little ringlets. Another week or so and he’d have to start tucking the shit behind his ears like a girl. Maybe some cute little barrettes would add to the affect. Yeah, that was a good way to wind up on his knees in the Dens.

“Farley…” Claire rubbed her red nose with a delicate hand and stepped closer. Farley pulled back. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

It was too hard to think with her scent in his nose. No, smelling her made Farley start saying stupid shit. “I’m not angry with you, Claire. I’m angry at the things that keep popping out of your mouth. There is a difference.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You keep saying these things to me. You talk about how you want me to be with you. But after last night it’s obvious you really only want to be with me because you have some sort of savior complex.” By the look on her face that
so
did not come our right. “Shit… Look. I’m happy.”

“No, you’re not.”

He groaned and threw out his arms. “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Farley, you’ve been a victim since you were hatched. You don’t even know what happiness is.”

Okay. This was obviously going nowhere.

He snatched up his shirt and shoved himself into it. “This conversation is over.” Farley stood up and Claire stepped in front of him. “Move.”

“When you listen to what I have to say. I am open to learning your social customs and I do want to understand you. But at the same time you’ve got to realize that this life you’re living isn’t conducive to your well being. Even if it’s not with me. You need someone that will be good to you. Not whore you out.”

“What?” Where the hell did she come up with this shit? Whore him out?

“I’ve talked to people…about…about what you do in the Dens and it’s just not right, how the Center makes you sell your dignity.”

Oh, good God. Farley moved to go around her and Claire grabbed his arm.

“There are people who can help you, Farley.”

“I don’t need help!” He yanked, hoping she’d let go, but her hands were practically embedded into his arm.

“Farley, I just want to see you happy and safe, with someone who cares about you.”

He shoved his face in hers. “And let me guess, that someone would be you?” Claire swallowed and blushed. “So are we talking marriage here?” Farley stepped up and she went back. “So tell me, Claire, how many Kin do you know who live the happy life of monogamous bliss?”

Her hands fluttered. “I’ve read about several--”

“Bullshit. Reading about it and seeing is two different things. Everyone I’ve seen try has failed. And I’m talking a capital F kind of fail. Like eating your spouse kind of fail.”

Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You sure about that?” He herded her back until her shoulders hit the wall. “Cause I’ll be honest with you. Your taste is divine. Did you know every Human tastes different? Some like chocolate, some like buttered chicken.” Claire tried to jerk back when he dipped in and flicked his tongue across her cheek.

Farley smacked his lips. “Do you want to know what you taste like, Claire?” She turned her head away. “Peaches and cream. It’s a very rare flavor for a Human. So sweet.” Farley stepped back, giving her room to run. Unfortunately she stayed right where she was, arms wrapped around her middle. He frowned.

Claire’s breath shuddered out. “I know you’re trying to scare me. I’m not going to be scared of you anymore.” Her cornflower eyes came up. Farley curled his lip. “What? Are you going to bite me? Maybe rip out a hunk of flesh? ‘Cause that’s what you do, right? Eat people?” She punched him in the chest, winced and wound up cradling her hand.

Eat people. Yeah, if she only knew. Farley said, “I’ve killed thousands.”

Her expression said she didn’t believe him.