City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood (47 page)

Maybe with any luck he’d throw himself off a balcony or eat a bullet.

Even though it was fun, fantasizing about the asshole offing himself it wasn’t getting Farley anywhere. It most certainly wasn’t getting him into the tub, which was where he needed to be.

No doubt, Human forms just sucked sometimes. They healed fast and took less food, but then they broke too easily. A trade off. Like everything else, it came with a price.

Farley tried again, pushing with his arms and then his legs. He got one elbow over the edge when the chills hit him all the way to his marrow. Not wanting to lose what little foothold he had, Farley held on while his back seized and the muscles in his thigh jumped like live wires.

It’ll pass, he told himself. He just had to hang on and not lose his grip. Gritting his teeth, he clung to the porcelain edge, praying for his body to give him a three minute break. Apparently the God of Man wasn’t in a giving mood, or maybe he just didn’t listen to the pleas of wyrms. Farley wasn’t sure which. Didn’t care really. He clenched his eyes shut and held on.

Then like magic, the bath water cut on.

Holy crap, there really is a God.

“Easy there, little one.”

Oh, no. God did not just call him little one.

Farley opened his mouth to tell God he could fuck off when warm hands picked him up and lowered him into the scalding water. The heat on his raw flesh was like jacking off with a dry palm. It hurt at first but eventually the feel-good part won out.

“Here, eat.”

A piece of meat was shoved under his nose. Farley glared at God trying to figure out why the hell he looked so damn familiar.

And what the hell was with all the face hardware?

“You’re not God,” Farley said. Shit, was that his voice? He sounded like a three pack a day smoker coming off a ten year scotch binge. “What the hell are you doing back in here?”

A wry smile tugged at Lor’s lips. Farley noticed there was an ugly bruise still fading out on the side of his face. Which meant the healing injury had been deep and very recent.

“What’s so funny?” ‘Cause the Kin was smiling and his eyes glinted like he was pulling one hell of an inner har-har. Farley tried to pull out of his grasp, succeeded, and promptly went under. Apparently that whole warning that it only takes few inches of water to drown, was true.

The only reason Farley came back up was because Lor hooked a hand under his pit and held him in place. This time the smile the Dominant wore cracked into a grin and Farley bared his fangs.

Lor shoved a piece of meat into Farley’s mouth. “Chew or choke.”

He chewed, cussing with every grind of his teeth.

“Something tells me you’re going to make a habit of this.” Lor’s yellow eyes flashed and he brought another piece of meat to Farley’s mouth.

It took just about everything for Farley to keep his jaws moving to chew the food Lor kept shoving into his mouth. Several times his head dipped forward as he had minor black outs.

He knew he was losing time because during the first episode, the water quit running. The second one Lor brought him around with a pat to the cheek, by the third and fourth he just assumed that was the reason why he’d blink and the view would be changed when his eyelids came back up.

Lor reached down and stripped the remains of the ragged trousers from Farley’s legs and threw them on the floor. Farley didn’t fight when Lor rolled him to the side and took a good long look at his back, then tipped him to the right to see his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t have lived through this. Last time I saw him
feed
like this, the Male didn’t last five minutes.”

“I’ve lived through worse.” Which was true. Darco was no picnic when he was in a mood.

Lor’s face darkened. “How did you get him to stop?”

Farley sneered, “Good sex has its uses.”

The Dominant made a face and forced Farley to swallow down more meat. “Heikman doesn’t fuck what he eats.”

Farley met the Male’s gaze head on. “He does now.”

Lore looked away. Very few Dominants would have done that. “You pissed him off, you know.” The Male reached over and grabbed the body wash left on the tub’s edge and squeezed out the entire contents, coating Farley’s shoulders and head.

Great, fucking strawberries all over again.

Farley had to shut his eyes and mouth as it ran down his face like paint. A slosh of water then a cloth hit his cheek, nose, mouth, neck.

When he could talk without getting a mouthful of suds he said, “I’ll buy him some flowers and we can make up.”

“He’s dangerous when he’s mad.”

Farley gave a snort. “Something tells me mad or happy, that motherfucker is just dangerous.”

Lor stopped for a second and made a sound that might have been a small laugh. “I’m going to roll you forward and wash your back. The wounds are closed enough. Let me know if it hurts. I’ll stop and we’ll wait a little longer if it does.”

“Why are you doing this?” Farley winced when the cloth swept over his wounds. “What?”

“This…” Farley said nodding. “This right here.”

The Male made a sound. “Because if I don’t you’ll die.”

“And let me guess, Heikman doesn’t fuck what he eats.” The Dominant stayed quiet. “So how long have you two been an item?” The cloth hit Farley in the face bringing on a wave of water. He sputtered. Two more and he was able to blink.

“Eight years.”Lor’s tone was flat. Bitter.

“I think you could do better.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

Farley eyed the Male. He was one of those who carved himself hard. A Strong face, all angles, and a mass of long hair so gold it didn’t look real. But he was a true Dominant. Not a submissive or mid-ranked using size as a bluff, or just a plain old bully. So he should have had loads of choices.

Farley said, “I don’t see a collar around your neck.”

Lor shook his head. “I was given to him by my Queen to pay a debt. That’s all the collar Heikman needs and he knows it.”

With remarkable gentleness Lor kept bathing him. The expression of concentration on the Male’s face seemed so natural for him. It should have been obvious to the Dominant Farley no longer needed help. The cramps had stopped minutes ago but Lor didn’t seem interested in giving up the job. Having something to take care of seemed important to him, so Farley let him.

Besides, it felt nice.

Lor pushed Farley’s head from one way to the next, running his hands through his hair and checking behind his ears. When Lor seemed satisfied he grabbed a towel and before Farley could stop the Dominant, he was being hoisted out of the water and wrapped up.

“I’ll be fine now.” Farley pushed, trying to get out of his grasp.

“No, you won’t.”

“Look, z’all good. Seriously.” Lor rumbled but stopped. “I’ll be fine, put me down.” Lor obeyed and as soon as Farley had his feet on the ground his legs went out. At least the spot of carpet he landed on was clean.

“Son of a bitch.” Then if that didn’t beat all, the shivers started up again. “Fuck.”

“Are you satisfied, little one?”

“Quit calling me that, I’m not a fucking puppy.”

Lor picked Farley up and carried him to the bed. He stripped off the top blanket, removing most of the blood stains. Even under the two bottom blankets and the sheet Farley couldn’t get warm. Lor peeled off his shirt. There were more bruises. Sharp dark lines, black and blue, painted across his dark bronze skin. The wounds had been deep. Really deep.

Lor slid in next to him.

“W-why am I c-cold again?” Farley asked.

Lor tucked Farley against his chest and curled around him. Heat broke over the Dominant’s skin like a sauna and Farley’s body unfolded, sucking up the warmth.

“Like I said. You shouldn’t be alive.”

Farley tried to crane his neck around to get a good look, but Lor brought his arm down, pinning him.

“Give it a few hours. You don’t want to throw up what you just ate.”

Christ. Okay, maybe he didn’t want to look.

“Sleep,” Lor said. He shut his eyes and kicked up a thrum in his chest. Metaphysical energy rippled the air. The warmth radiating from him felt good and sank into Farley’s bones, warming him like no hot bath could. He pressed himself closer to the other Male, letting his body drink every bit he offered.

With his head tucked under Lor’s chin Farley asked, “How often does he
feed
?”

“No questions. Rest.” Lor’s body temp spiked and Farley closed his eyes, savoring the pass of metaphysical energy back and forth.

After a few minutes Farley said, “I need to know. Heikman said if he can’t get what he needs he’s going after to
Whom I Belong
.”

Lor sighed. “At least once a day.”

At least? “Shit.”

“Which is why you need to rest.”

Rest? Hell.

“Now, sleep. You’ll need it.”

Farley closed his eyes, thinking it was going to be impossible with all the junk rolling around in his head. But he was gone in under five minutes.

Nothing says up and at ‘em like a hollow point to the knee cap. Best alarm thirty-five cents can buy. Orin came awake screaming. His hands went to his knee—or what was left of it. Now it was a nasty wad of bone, cartilage, and flesh.

“FUCK!” Blood soaked his pant leg and pooled under his thigh. The burn of healing flared. The bleeding eased, then stopped. But it wasn’t going to heal much more than that. Nope, he was spent.

Orin looked up to see Brian Gilsp sitting on his sofa, sporting a make shift bandage around one hand, a Berretta in his other, and looking proud of himself.

“Damn, lizard-man, it took you a whole minute and a half to wake up to that. I always heard you bastards were heavy sleepers but that takes the cake.” He grinned.

For some fucked up reason Orin felt the need to correct the man on his evolutionary error. He said, “Whales.”

The cop frowned. Clearly he thought the Male was trying to pull a funny.

When Brian’s gun hand twitched Orin shook his head. “Not lizards, we’re…” Orin swallowed back the urge to vomit. “We’re more closely related to blue whales.” It was an over simplification of course. But he didn’t want to make things too technical.

The man’s cold glare conveyed just how much he gave a shit.

Hunger roared in Orin’s ribs, forcing him to curl on his side. Damn, it was worse than he’d felt in a very long time. Bad enough the cat food in the feeder was starting to look pretty tasty.

The springs in the sofa squeaked as Brian stood up. He held the gun out in front of him and moved it up, then down. Orin realized he was trying to decide where to put the next shot.

Orin couldn’t help it. He held up a hand and turned his face away like a pansy.

Brian made a sad sound. “Oh, I’m not going to shoot you in the head. Yet.” When he didn’t pull the trigger Orin looked at him. “What did you do with Mary’s body?” Brian’s words, the tone of his voice, might as well have been chips of polar ice.

With his brain clouded from pain, hunger and exhaustion it took Orin a minute to process the question. It was a minute too long. The cop pulled the trigger and Orin’s right ankle exploded.

“Fuck…fuck…Son-of-a-bitch…” He thrashed, smacking his head against the door. Another scream welled up inside him and he clamped it down. He didn’t want to give Brian the pleasure.

The cop drew little circles in the air with the muzzle. “I asked you a question.”

Orin gasped, “I don’t know.”

Brian moved the gun to the other foot, the one below the obliterated knee, and pulled the trigger. Orin braced himself but the pain was minimal. Most of the important stuff must have already been severed. The tracking bracelet was toast now. Not that it really mattered.

“Now…” Brian took another step. “Tell me what you did with her.”

Hunger roared inside of Orin, feeling every bit as dangerous as the RHage had been. “I don’t know.”

Laughter, harsh and ugly, burst from the man’s lips. “You don’t know when to quit, do you, wyrm? First, you lie about my baby sister being a whore, then your fucking high end lawyer trumps up some bullshit lab report…and now you steal her goddamned body.” The gun muzzle came forward and Orin shrank back. “There isn’t anything you won’t do, is there?”

“Brian…” God of Man, Orin didn’t know what was worse, the pain in his legs or the rising hunger. It clawed the inside of his ribs, twisting his gut. “I-I di-didn’t…” Shit, now he was shivering. Just beautiful. Orin dragged himself toward the cat food bowl. Brian followed him one slow step at a time. By the time Orin covered the few yards the muscles in his back were seizing up. He shoveled in a mouth food of kitty kibble.

Brian laughed. The real belly-rolling kind. Asshole even slapped his knee.

Orin chewed and swallowed one handful after the other, forcing himself to choke it down. A slow burn fired up in his lower limbs and the muscles in his back eased a little. He was able to talk about the same time the cop’s giggles dried up. “I didn’t take her body. I’ve been at the hotel.”

Brian raised the gun again. “Bullshit. You haven’t been at the hotel since seven tonight.” He tapped the gun muzzle against his watch.

“And her body went missing long before I ever left.”

Logical, yes?

It earned Orin another bullet right in the hip. After the roar in his ears subsided, Orin risked looking at the damage. The bullet had blown out a large area in his side, leaving bone fragments clinging to his trousers like shrapnel. He reached for the cat food again and Brian kicked the feeder, sending colored bits skittering across the floor.

Brian said, “You killed Mary and you took her body to hide your crime.”

Orin laid his head on his arm. “They don’t need a body to take me to trial.”

“Don’t you think I know that? But the DA can’t challenge those lab results and that means she can’t prove you were lying. My Mary was not a whore and she wasn’t a fucking monster!” Brian’s grey eyes flashed and his cheeks turned ruddy. Orin had seen that look once before when Brian decided to get creative with the night stick. Maybe the cop would just shoot him in the head this time and get it over with.

Brian took out his cell phone. “Now…” He wiped his face on his sleeve. “You and I…we’re going to take care of this mess. You…you are going to confess. Handy little things.” He wiggled the phone. “But you know all about that, don’t you? Your friend, there in the park. Yeah. Now.” Brian held it up. “Smile pretty for the camera.” The gun came up alongside his other hand. “Tell everyone what you did to her, Orin. Tell them.”