“Haley…” More hands closed on her arms. She almost fought them but Maze forced her to look at him. “Let them work.”
This time when they pulled her away, Haley let them.
Chapter 59
Farley turned on the TV and headed into the kitchen. He was thinking, and thinking made him hungry. In spite of the fact he’d just put away four bowls of meat an hour before, there was a distinct empty spot in his gut.
Wishing for Twinkies, he found only meat. Apparently Heikman was a firm believer in protein not carbs.
Farley rubbed his sternum because it ached, but tossed it aside as more aftermath left from feeding Heikman. It occurred to him that throwing that last jab out might have not been such a smart thing to do. Obviously the Lesser-Bred had a few internal Human issues mucking up the works.
Although how he could rationalize Lor and then fight the urges during the feed was beyond Farley, which led him to believe there was a whole lot more going on with that arrangement than the usual shag job.
Whatever. Not his problem.
Okay, it was Farley’s problem, he just wasn’t going to worry about it right now. Because at the moment he had food and he had TV. Sometimes living in the here and now had serious benefits.
Farley tipped bowls, trying to decide what the hell he wanted. He wound up closing the fridge back up and just standing there. Behind him the TV blared and lit up bigger than life with a scene from Transformers. His all-time favorite movie by the way. Viewed eighty-two times and counting. By the sound of it the first encounter in the desert was going down. Nothing says blockbuster better than explosions. And big freak’n ass transforming robots. He so wanted a car that could do that.
But Farley was too up in his head to care at the moment. Another twinge fired off behind his sternum. Probably from thinking too hard. The fridge came back open with a cushioned sigh and Farley reached in and grabbed a bowl at random.
There was no telling if Heikman was going to live up to his promise and let him feed. Although that might be an opportunity to get the collar off. As hot as Farley burned, leaving it on was playing Russian roulette. But then maybe it knew the difference.
A comforting and frustrating thought all in one.
Farley was about to go sit down when a sense of something terrible kicked his knees out from under him. The bowl in his hand shattered when it hit the floor, vomiting meat and ceramic shards across the kitchen tile in a stretch of red. Farley dug a hand into his pec like he could somehow squeeze the pain into submission. But it didn’t budge. He curled forward and barked out cries between pitiful groans.
Fuck, it hurt. A dull spoon scooping out his lungs would have felt better.
Haley…
Farley pulled himself up using the handle of the fridge, then the counter. His entire body shuddered like he was chilled. That wasn’t it, though. No, but something big and nasty was happening. Something horrible.
Farley tried to walk but the room spun, and when he ran out of counter to brace himself he spilled into the carpet of the front room and crawled toward the door.
God of Man, was she dead?
Agony came out of him in the form of a high pitched keen. He rolled forward, crushed by the weight of it. She wasn’t dead, no, but something was hurting her.
Tearing her apart.
Around his neck the collar flared, blistering his skin and stinking of Alchemy. The door to the room came open and people came in, but Farley was deaf to it all. He punched his chelae through the floor and the surge of metaphysical against Alchemy threw sparks into the air. Hands were on him but he couldn’t feel it. There was too much pain. So much sorrow. So much loss.
Farley tried to get out the door and down the hall. He had to get to Haley. Find her. She needed him.
As soon as Farley could take a breath he said, “Let me go!” If the people around him replied he didn’t hear them. Hell, he couldn’t even see them. It was like his field of vision had closed down to the exit and the hall and just like a night mare, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t reach it. Another wave of it hit and he bowed so hard that something had to break.
And something did.
His hearts.
Chapter 60
Pink Floyd had it all wrong. There was absolutely nothing comfortable about being numb. And Haley was numb. A head-to-toe sensation that made her feel cold all over, but she wasn’t chilled. Or maybe she was and just couldn’t tell yet.
At some point during the drive her tears dried up and her sobs petered out, proving how crying was about as useful as a paper cut—and twice as fun.
Maze had tucked her into one of his fancy Escalades and his driver followed the ambulance to the hospital. They arrived just as Orin and Deshi were rolled in. Luckily most Humans took the Hippocratic Oath to heart and unlike the afterlife, medicine was more often dealt out in equal parts no matter the species.
But it didn’t take a medical degree for Haley to know Deshi wasn’t healing. The head nurse in the ER sent for one of the Metaphysics specialists, because a Kin who wasn’t healing with a direct tap into a vein from another, was in serious trouble.
Even with the entire Medical-Metaphysics and Preternatural Studies just four blocks away next door to the Veterinary Teaching Hospital at UGA, they still couldn’t figure out what was wrong with Deshi. And that meant they didn’t know how to fix it.
So here she was, sitting by his side, a strange déjà vu from all those months ago when the Jersey City Prince had gone under the knife to have his nevus removed. The cup of coffee in her hand had long ago gone cold. Haley didn’t even drink coffee, but someone had given it to her so she took it.
At the head of the bed, machines beeped and flickered while they breathed for Deshi. Lines plugged into his arm fed him a cocktail of Human and Kin blood plasma. He was covered in heating blankets but his core temp refused to rise above eighty five.
There had been a whole lot of talk about brain functions but apparently the standard CT and MRI readings were unreliable due to the interference caused by metaphysical emissions.
Like an overcast day can block a satellite signal. Sometimes it was intermittent sometimes it was just blank. Neither of which was reliable if the doctors wanted to know if something was really working.
And since a metaphysical field was the engine of life for the species, the fact it was causing interference at all was actually the only good thing they had to say.
Orin’s scent, clean and smelling of Dial soap, drifted into the room.
He walked in wearing a pair of scrub pants and top. He stopped at the foot of the bed and Haley looked up. His wet hair made small curls around his ears, hanging down almost in his eyes. He picked at the sheet on the hospital bed. Even though his body language conveyed guilt and regret, it was his eyes which spoke the loudest.
Every so often Orin would reach up and rub his shoulder where Haley had left her mark.
“I’m sorry I hit you.” He didn’t look at her. “I’m sorry for the things I said and everything. This…yeah…especially this.” He rubbed his face with a trembling hand.
Haley said, “Deshi wanted to do it. He said it couldn’t be made right.” Her bottom lip trembled so she bit it and held it in place until it was still. “He wanted to do this for me.”
“He told me he couldn’t be saved. I didn’t know what he meant.”
“Emily is going to divorce him and that means Deshi will have to go home.” Haley put the coffee cup off to the side and laid her hands on the edge of the bed. Touching Deshi wasn’t an option. He was too broken, too hurt. But she wanted to. She wanted to pet him from head to toe, comfort him, breathe in his scent. “And if he goes home his Mother will kill him. He doesn’t have anywhere to go. He said that without a nevus he can’t be owned… That’s why I couldn’t save him.”
God of Man, lying there, the Prince didn’t even look real. More like some wax sculpture beginning to lose all of its color and fade to nothing. And somehow he was still beautiful
.
“I hated him because I was jealous.” Orin looked sort of surprised, like maybe he hadn’t expected to say it out loud.
Haley shook her head. “Why would you be jealous?”
Orin looked away and stared at the blank wall with its one door into a bathroom. “Isn’t it obvious?”
No, it wasn’t. At least not to Haley. Orin wasn’t just any Kin. At eight hundred years old he was practically an Elder, which was one step below Ancient. Not many Kin made it that long in life. Deshi was less than fifty.
Orin clenched his eyes shut. “I speak all five dialects of Olde Tongue. I’ve recorded centuries worth of history, I’ve counseled Kings, Emperors, I’ve watched some of the greatest events in Human existence unfold.” He sighed. “I’ve read volumes of books, gone to some of the most prestigious schools. Even if they wouldn’t give me a degree, they let me sit in. I’ve traveled to every corner of the world. I’ve seen things, lots of things. Many good…some not so good. And Deshi was just made.” Orin looked at her then, and there was real anger in his eyes. “He didn’t have to kill to get out of the hatching grounds. He didn’t have to learn to survive. He’s never had to be food or sex. He’s had choices…I never had choices. I spent a century in Hell because I thought I had to belong, then decades with Medan giving her what she wanted. Deshi has never had to be a monster. A beast. He has everything…” Orin’s hands became fists. “And he’s never had to fight for any of it. He’s wealthy, he has a secure job, and hell if he didn’t have a job, he’d be taken care of. He’s never needed the Dens or the Queens.” His voice dropped. “Deshi has never even wanted them. He was complete all on his own.
“He’s not even all that smart, to tell you the truth, and yet he figured it out. All by himself. Long before I did. I was the idiot who couldn’t get it right. He appreciated what was important. The people. The Kin. He’s never taken you or Farley for granted. He’s never been too good to be among his own, no matter their place. And me? I can’t stand myself, let alone other dragons.” Orin’s shoulders went up and down and he looked at Deshi. “Most of all, he had the courage to do that…what he did…for you. Not for himself…but for you. I couldn’t have done it. If the tables had been turned I’d have left Deshi down there. Hell, I did leave him. I ran because I was worried about saving my own ass and to hell with him. He saved me and I didn’t even like him.”
Orin’s expression twisted with agony and his shoulders hunched as if holding the weight of the world. Tears spilled down his cheeks, making dark spots on the blue scrubs he had on.
And Haley watched with horrified awe as Orin cried.
Chapter 61
Junily was the source of warmth along the length of Farley’s body as he lay on the bed trying to get his bearings. A whole lot of chaos had gone down, the collar throwing off sparks like a Stone Mountain grand finale and frying the skin along his neck and shoulders until it blistered. Then the guards coming in with their guns drawn. Then Heikman and Lor.
The Dominant had restrained Farley until the worst passed. So now he was just exhausted and Junily was petting him.
The petting was nice. Really nice.
Up and down, small hands on his back, a thrum in his ears.
“I should like to keep you,” Junily said, his voice breathy and close to his cheek. A wet hot line traced the side of Farley’s jaw. “I like your taste. Feed from me, so I can feed. Then I will keep you.” As long as Farley could be warm like this, the keeping sounded like a good idea.
The bedroom door was slightly ajar. Heikman was out there. Farley could identify his businessman tone which had gone high pitched. Not so much angry, but defensive and scared. Definitely scared. The scent of self-preservation was thick in the air.
Farley tried to hear what was being said, but the constant whirr Junily put out drowned out syllables, making the conversation difficult to follow. Whatever Lor was telling Heikman, it wasn’t putting him in his happy place.
Chocolate brown arms eased around Farley and turned his face to a line of neck and shoulder.
“Feed.” A hand pressed at the back of his skull.
Yeah, all things considering, that seemed like a really good idea.
Thinking of Haley and praying she was all right, Farley sank his teeth into Junily’s shoulder. In long draws he pulled the ichor out of the wound and across his tongue, and a gentle burn flared under his skin. When the collar didn’t heat up he readjusted his bite, increasing the flow. Junily made contented sounds, small clicks and whistles, the sounds of the very new.
Junily said, “You are very pretty.” Up and down his hands moved, along Farley’s back, his ribs, slipping under the hem of his trousers. Apparently Junily didn’t share in his boss’s inhibitions, but then he was Kin.
“Junily!” Heikman barking the Male’s name made them both jump. Farley rolled an eye up to see Heikman standing in the doorway. He stopped feeding because of the look on the man’s face. Embarrassment.
“You know the rules, wyrm.” Heikman was looking at Junily when he said it. “Let him go.”
Junily held on, his fingertips almost sharp as they dug into Farley’s ass. The word “Mine” came out on the back of a growl.
Lor stepped through the doorway, his yellow stare hitting Junily hard.
Heikman waved a hand at the Dominant. “You stay there. This is between him and me. He has to learn who’s in charge or else.” And Farley was betting that or else wouldn’t be going to bed without supper.
The Lesser-Bred took a step forward and Junily’s lip rolled up.
“He’s new,” Farley said.
Heikman tossed him a look that clearly meant shut-the-fuck-up, then to Junily he said, “Let him go.”
The Male shook his head in a quick blur of blond. His pale toffee eyes darkened to gold flecked with red.
At the door Lor rumbled.
The Lesser-Bred shot him a look. “Lor, I told you to stay out of this. Do not make me tell you again.” Lor stepped back and dropped his head. But his two massive hands made fists. It’s a fact Dominants do not like to be told what to do. Even when they are sold into ownership by their Queen.
Farley’s lips brushed Junily’s ear. “Do as he says, let me go.” Junily glanced down at him, then back at Heikman. He shook his head and sat up on the bed, pulling Farley with him. To keep from having his trousers pulled right off his body, Farley had to hoist up his legs.
No need to start flashing much more skin and making things worse.
Heikman said, “You know the rules, Junily. You feed only. Let him go or I will be forced to punish you. ”
Junily inched to the corner of the bed, his arms pinning Farley to his body so tight it was difficult to breathe. Damn, for a Male so young and small he was freaking strong.
A deep possessive growl lit up in Junily’s chest.
With his back facing Heikman, Farley had to crane his neck at an odd angle to see. The Lesser-Bred had palmed a Glock and pointed it straight at them.
“Shit.” Farley ducked and struggled all in one motion, but Junily had a death grip on him. One arm moved across his upper back and a hand hooked around his lower thigh.
“Christ, Junily, it’s not worth getting shot over! Put me the fuck down!” Heikman snarled and Farley tried to move out of the line of fire. He glanced over his shoulder at Heikman. “Put the gun down. Please!”
“Submit, Junily, or I’m going to put a window in your face.”
And Junily’s face just happened to be way too close to the side of Farley’s head.
Farley twisted as far from the line of fire as possible and held his hands up, pleading for Heikman to wait. “I’ll get him to let me go! Just back off a second.”
“Don’t tell me how to deal with my insolent pets.”
“I’m not telling you shit. I just don’t want to get shot!” Farley put a hand on Junily’s throat and pressed his thumb into the Male’s pulse. “Give me two minutes. Just back off and I’ll get him to put me down.” He risked
a quick glance. Heikman’s gun hand was back at his side. Junily quit growling but his grip was tight as ever. When Farley brought his gaze back around,
the other Male’s eyes were orange with agitation, long white points distorted his lips, and he was throwing off enough heat he felt like he was on the verge of a shift.
“Hey…” Farley pulled himself more upright, knowing damn well he was putting the back of his skull in the line of fire. “Easy…” This close, in relatively good light, it was evident just how new Junily was, like just-out-of-the-shell new. How the hell did Heikman even get a hold of a Male this unfinished? “Who’s your Queen?” Farley asked, mostly to distract him, but also because he wanted to know.
Junily blinked a few times and shook his head. “No Queen.”
What? Farley looked back. The Lesser-Bred was still putting out pissed-off like it was sunshine.
“How can he not have a Queen?”
Heikman gave him a momentary glance but it didn’t linger. “You’ve got a minute and a half to get him to put you down.”
“Answer me. If he doesn’t have a Queen, then how the hell is he here?”
“Minute fifteen seconds. Time’s short, wyrm.”
Fuck. “Junily…” Farley squeezed his throat. “Listen to me. I’ll be all right, but you’ve got to let me go.”
“But you fed me. I fed you. I want to keep you.”
Farley squeezed out a string of curses. Sometimes tasting good had its downfalls. He pressed himself against the Male and put his lips to his ear. “Listen. Okay. Fine. You can keep me. But right now, I have to take care of asshole back there or he’s going to put a peep hole in our skulls. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to die.”
City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood Page 42
