by I. T. Lucas
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Onegus loosened his fingers, moving his palm to the back of Roni’s head.
A moment later Roni felt the guy’s tongue on his neck.
What the hell? He hadn’t signed on for any tongue action.
But when the sharp points of Onegus’s fangs penetrated his skin, the burn wasn’t as bad as when Andrew had done it. Or maybe it was just less of a shock.
“Hey? What the hell are you doing to him?” Roni heard Barty yell, the cloud of euphoria spreading throughout his body making his limbs feel as soft as clouds.
“He is fine. Give him a moment,” Anandur said.
The venom’s effect was milder this time. Roni was aware of what was going on around him but too loopy to respond. It took him a few minutes to regain control of his arms and push himself up to a sitting position.
“Are you okay, boy?” Barty tried to push Anandur aside.
Yeah, good luck with that, buddy. Moving a semitrailer was easier.
“I’m good, Barty. Just got the air knocked out of me for a moment.” Roni took several deep breaths, then pushed up to his feet.
He walked over to Barty, his wobbly legs making him sway from side to side as if he was drunk. “I’m touched, old man. You care.” He pulled Barty into his arms in a weak embrace. “I love you, man.”
Awkwardly, Barty patted his back. “You must’ve banged your head damn hard, boy.” The handler turned an angry glare at Onegus. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you know what his brain is worth?”
Barty pushed Roni off him but wrapped his arm around his waist to help him stand straight. “That’s it. This class is officially over. These people are morons.”
“No, Barty. I’m fine. Really. Ask me something hard.”
“How much is sixty-four times seventy-three?”
Roni rolled his eyes. “That’s what you call hard? I can do this with half of my brain missing.”
“Just answer the question, smart ass.”
“Four thousand, six hundred and seventy-two.”
Barty pulled out his phone. “Hey, Siri, what’s sixty-four times seventy-three?”
Naturally, Siri confirmed Roni’s answer.
“Okay, so you can still do head math. But I still think something is wrong with you. You’re way too relaxed and mushy. My Roni is a prickly pear.”
“Oh, you called me your Roni.” Roni leaned his head on Barty’s shoulder.
“Well, kid, if getting beat up gets you in such a good mood, I’m willing to slap you around anytime.”
“Stand in line,” Andrew muttered.
Roni flipped them both off. “I feel the love, assholes.”
“And… he’s back.” Barty clapped him on the shoulder.
Chapter 30: Kian
From his seat at the head of the conference table, Kian glanced at William and Andrew who had joined the weekly Guardians meeting. Their respective expertise was needed.
“What’s the status with the cars, William?” he asked.
The poor guy looked like he lost a lot of weight, but it had done nothing to improve his looks. On the contrary. The dark circles under his eyes had gotten worse, and he looked even paler than usual. Kian was of a mind to send the guy to Bridget for a checkup. Or even better, to Vanessa.
William seemed depressed. Ever since his girlfriend had left, he hadn’t been his cheerful old self and had been spending his days and nights in his lab, working. By the looks of him, the guy hadn’t slept for days.
“I’m told that the model works fine. The design firm shipped it to us for a test drive, and once we approve it, they’ll send a rep to incorporate the technology into our manufacturing process. After that, it’s a matter of how fast we can build them.”
“Tell them to send the rep right away. I want them to modify the production line even before the test model gets here. If they say it works fine, then it probably does. If I’m not happy with something, they should be able to make adjustments on the fly.”
“I’ll let them know.” William started typing on his tablet.
“What about the hacker?” Kian asked Andrew.
“Onegus treated Roni to another bite yesterday. I haven’t heard anything from the kid yet.”
Kian tapped his pen on his notepad. “A young guy like him should’ve transitioned after the first bite. I think we need to accept that he is not a Dormant.”
Andrew shook his head. “Not possible. He has more indicators than all of us newly initiated immortals put together.”
“That’s true. But it could be a coincidence.”
Andrew lifted a brow. “Including the grandmother?”
“Who knows. Maybe there is another explanation for that. In any case, if he doesn’t transition in a couple of days, we venom him one last time. If that doesn’t work either, it’s memory clean time.”
Andrew grimaced. “Can we keep him even if he doesn’t turn immortal? The kid is a fucking genius. He is going to be a huge asset to us. Besides, taking chances with that brain of his…” He shook his head. “It would be like exposing a masterpiece to smoke. If we damage his brain even a smidgen, it would be unforgivable.”
Bracing his elbows on the table, Kian raked his fingers through his hair. “If we do that, we will have to keep him locked up for the rest of his life. That’s not a good deal.”
“He would be exchanging one prison for another, with the added benefit of being with Sylvia whenever he wants. I think it’s a better deal than the one he has now.”
“True. But his current imprisonment is temporary. How long does he have left?”
“Don’t be naive, Kian. They will not let Roni go unless they find someone better to replace him. They will dig out more charges or make some up as an excuse to keep him locked up. He is too valuable on the inside and too dangerous on the outside.”
“Guys,” Kri interjected. “This whole discussion is premature. Wait until we know for sure that he is not turning.”
“Right.” Kian waved a hand. “We’ll discuss Roni again at our next meeting.” He turned to Onegus. “Any news on the police investigation?”
“There was another murder at the beginning of the week.”
“Fuck,” Bhathian grumbled.
“The police are trying to keep it under wraps to prevent panic, but they are suspecting a satanic cult or something similar. They’re thinking along the lines of ritual sacrifices.”
Kian nodded. “What about your investigation?”
“Still working on it. I’m checking every male’s alibi for the time frame of the last one’s murder.”
“Any suspects?” Kian asked.
Onegus smirked. “The only one who sneaks around like he has something to hide is our friend Brundar.”
Kri snorted, and all eyes turned to the Guardian.
Brundar crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a brow. “Should I get legal representation?”
Fates, the guy really didn’t have a sense of humor. “No, Brundar. Just tell us where you were.”
“No.”
“Leave him alone.” Anandur put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, which earned him a deep scowl and a growl. He took it off. “Brundar is seeing some mystery woman. That’s all.”
Several pairs of incredulous eyes landed on the stoic warrior.
“Is that true?” Onegus asked.
“None of your fucking business.”
I’ll be damned. Kian stifled a smile.
Chapter 31: Brundar
Fucking Anandur and his big mouth.
Brundar shook his head as he walked out. It served him right for trying to crack a joke. He sucked at it. Legal representation. It wasn’t even funny.
What had possessed Anandur to come to his rescue when none had been needed?
He’d known Onegus hadn’t been serious.
His brother was supposed to be the trickster, the funny one, he should’ve recognized a joke for what it was. But no, he had to do the brotherly thing.
Brun
dar got in his car and slammed the door shut.
For a few moments, he sat motionless, trying to calm down. Ever since Calypso had reentered his life, not that she’d ever really left, his quiet Zen-like attitude had evaporated. He was restless, agitated, and itching for a fight.
If only he could find someone to offer him a challenge.
It had probably something to do with his self-imposed abstinence. He wasn’t like William who could do without. Brundar was only four generations removed from the source, which made him one horny bastard who needed a steady supply of sex.
Normally, it wasn’t a problem; he had plenty of willing takers in the club and elsewhere. But he wanted none of them. There was only one woman he wanted, and he couldn’t have her.
What a clusterfuck.
Brundar turned on the ignition and backed out of his parking spot. There was a small matter that he needed to take care of, and it couldn’t wait.
Tomorrow, Shawn was getting served with the divorce papers. Brundar intended to make sure the guy signed on the dotted line.
He was about to break clan law, and he didn’t give a damn. He was allowed one fucking transgression after all his years of service.
No, he wasn’t. All the excuses in the world would not make it right.
Brundar sighed. As a Guardian, he had an obligation to adhere to the letter of the law, and until now he had. Thralling was not allowed for personal benefit.
Out of necessity and in the spirit of keeping immortals’ existence secret, it was allowed after a venom bite and any other incident which could lead to their discovery. Naturally, everyone cheated a little, and as long as it was harmless no one made a big fuss about it. But as a Guardian Brundar held himself to higher standards. He’d already bent the law when he’d thralled Shawn a year ago. Except, at that time there had been no personal benefit to Brundar. He’d done it to protect Calypso.
Not even Edna, the strictest judge the clan ever had, would fault him for doing so. Or maybe she would. Edna believed that the laws the clan had put in place over its many years of existence were crucial to its continuing survival and the welfare of its members.
It was fine with him if she took that stance. As far as Brundar was concerned she could judge him for that infraction and impose whatever penalty she believed he deserved. But the one he was about to commit was not an infraction, it was a straight out violation. So yeah, in a way he was protecting Calypso again, but Brundar couldn’t pretend he had no personal stake in it.
He would do the crime and serve the time, or have it taken out of his hide as the case was. After the deed was done, he would march himself to Edna’s office, confess, and get the whipping she would no doubt sentence him to.
Not a big deal. Pain didn’t scare him. On the contrary, he would welcome it. The punishment would help clear the guilt.
Nothing was going to deter him from the course of action he’d decided on.
Hopefully, the asshole was home. If not, Brundar was going to wait as long as it took until he got there.
Last night, Brundar had listened to the recordings of Shawn’s phone calls over the past week. He owed William a favor for that.
The guy had fumed and raged when Calypso’s father had informed him she’d left, and that he had no idea where she was. Shawn had made some threats, but fortunately for him, he hadn’t followed through on them.
Calypso’s friend had been next. When she’d told him the same thing, Shawn had changed tactics. He’d asked Dawn to deliver a message: to tell Calypso that she was going to crawl back to him and beg him to take her back because she was a worthless piece of whoring shit and no one else would ever want her.
The jerk deserved a slow and excruciating death just for that. But that was Brundar’s opinion, not the law’s. Not the clan’s and not the humans’. Hateful words were allowed by law, and punishing someone for uttering them wasn’t.
Brundar only wondered how many victims’ lives could have been spared if the law saw things differently.
Shawn wasn’t home when Brundar got there, but he didn’t have to wait long until the guy arrived and his expensive car pulled into the garage.
A minute later Brundar knocked on the door.
Shawn threw it open, his eyes narrowing. “What do you want?” Obviously, he’d been waiting for someone else. “I don’t want to buy anything.” He tried to slam the door shut in Brundar’s face.
Brundar blocked the door from closing with his booted foot, then gave it a push, sending Shawn staggering back.
“What the fuck?”
“I only need a minute of your time.” Brundar walked in and shut the door behind him.
They were more or less the same height, and getting Shawn’s beady eyes to focus on his was easier than Brundar had expected.
Weak mind. He was reminded of his first impression of the guy.
“Listen and remember.” He took hold of Shawn’s suit jacket which the guy hadn’t had time to take off yet. “Tomorrow, you’ll be served with divorce papers. You are going to accept all the terms and sign them immediately. You’re getting one hell of a deal. Callie is leaving you the house and asks for nothing. You are very happy about that. She is gone, and you get to keep the house. You don’t care where she goes or what she does. You don’t want to even think about her. After you sign the papers, you will barely remember ever being married to her. Do you understand?”
Eyes glazed over, Shawn nodded.
“Repeat what I said.”
“I’m very happy about the deal I’m getting. I get to keep the house, and I don’t care what Callie does and where she goes.”
“Very good. Now go sit on the couch and repeat that twenty times.”
Shawn shuffled to the couch and plopped down. “I’m very happy—”
Brundar let himself out.
That had been one hell of an invasive thrall. Some brain damage was inevitable, but Brundar couldn’t care less. With Shawn’s twisted mind, anything would be an improvement. The important thing was that it should hold for at least a couple of months. By then Shawn would forget why his wife leaving him had upset him.
The thing was, Brundar still felt uneasy. Killing Shawn would’ve eliminated the threat not only to Calypso, but to any other woman the guy might get involved with in the future. But the law tied Brundar's hands.
As he drove back to the keep, Brundar debated the wisdom of the laws he followed. Today he’d done the right thing, and yet he was going to get punished for it.
Was it right? Or was it wrong?
Was the law flawed?
Or was his reasoning erroneous?
There were no right answers, and greater minds than his had struggled with these issues. Right and wrong were not black and white, they were many shades of gray.
Chapter 32: Callie
“Miri, I’m taking my break now,” Callie told the barmaid.
“No problem, take your time. It’s a slow night.”
“Thanks.”
It was her second week working at the club. Even though she was an experienced waitress, it had taken some adjusting to. The level of noise was deafening. She’d tried wearing earplugs to reduce the damage to her hearing, but it was counterproductive to taking drink orders, and she’d taken them out.
Other than that Franco and his crew were good people who treated her as part of the family from day one, which was very much appreciated given how lonely and isolated she was.
Customers were the same everywhere; some were nice, some were jerks and some tried to flirt with her. But she’d encountered none who had been overly rude or handsy. The tips, as she’d discovered, were much better than at Aussie.
As always, she took her break outside to give her ears a reprieve from the noise.
“Hey, Callie girl, how ya doin’?” Donnie the bouncer closed his massive hand on her shoulder and gently tugged her to stand next to him. Wandering away from the club without an escort was not happening. Neither Donnie nor Salvatore would let her out of
their sights.
“Fine.” She cast him a glance. “Tell me something, Donnie. Did Brad tell all of you to keep an eye on me or is it standard procedure?”
Donnie added his second hand to her other shoulder and started kneading her sore muscles. “It’s the middle of the night, girl, and this is no Beverly Hills. Not that I would’ve let you walk alone in the dark even if it was.”
“Oh, Donnie, this feels great. But you didn’t answer my question.”
He exhaled an exasperated breath. “I did. Even if Brad didn’t ask, I would be keeping you right here by my side.”
So he did ask. Figures.
Every night after her shift ended, Brundar walked her home, and if he wasn’t available, Franco or one of the bouncers did.
The problem was that it always ended at her door. He never came in.
Brundar had given her a taste with that one kiss and that was it. At the club, he treated her the same as any other employee, and the only one who talked on their short walk to her apartment was her. He was very careful not to give her the slightest opening, keeping her at arm's length.
Donnie let go of her shoulders and pulled out a cigarette. “You want one?” he asked as he always did even though she’d told him she didn’t smoke.
As frustrated as she was, maybe the coffin nail would do her some good. She was so sick of being a good girl. Perhaps that was why Brundar was staying away from her. She was too naive, too green, etc., etc.
“Yeah, I’ll take one. But you need to tell me what to do. I never smoked before.”
He handed her the cigarette and pulled another one for himself. “Easy, it’s just like smoking a joint.”
“I never smoked pot either.”
Donnie chuckled. “Where did you grow up? An Amish farm, or a convent?”
“Stop it.” She slapped his arm. “Not everyone does it. I chose not to.”
Lighting his cigarette, Donnie shook his head. “I knew there was something strange about you. You’re a time traveler from the fifties.”
Callie laughed and slapped his arm again. “Doofus. You keep it up, and I’ll tell everyone that the big scary Donnie is a sci-fi and comic books nerd.”
