City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood (23 page)

Cell phone.

Shit!

Farley made a grab for his phone but the damn thing was soaked. Not much he could do about it now. With any luck maybe he hadn’t completely fried it.

Yeah. Luck. It might have been just his imagination, but Lady Luck didn’t seem to have him very high on her Christmas list. Farley put the cell over the side and waited for the hot water to ease the chills. If he didn’t do something soon his body was going to retaliate with full blown muscular seizures preceding his trip down the road to metaphysical burn out.

Farley leaned his head back and tried to think of who he could call. Haley was with Deshi in Athens. He knew other Males in the Dens, but giving them a ring wasn’t going to happen. Most Kin didn’t bother with technology, especially the ferals who chose to live here in the Zone rather than outside as a Domestic.

There was one Male who had a phone and a Human Link to answer it, and Justice had already helped him once. Farley reached over and picked up his cell, flipped it open. It came on but the screen stayed blank.

Fuck. If the thing was toast…

Farley scrolled down his contact list, and when he was sure he’d counted his way to the J’s he hit send.

Nothing happened.

No…no…no…no.

Farley hit it again with the same result. No sound. No beep. Just silence. This couldn’t be happening. Of all the stupid…

The Nokia shot off with a ring and he almost dropped it. At least the incoming call part still worked.

Farley tried to talk but his teeth chattered, butchering his words.

“Hello?” It was Claire. “Farley? Are you there? I called to see if you were still coming over.”

“C-Claire, I n-need…” A round of shakes clamped Farley’s muscles down and the only thing he could do was hang on. Farley stared at the phone in his hand, willing his fingers to keep a hold on the thing.

“Farley? What’s wrong? Farley?”

“Sh-shot…c-c-cold.”

He heard Claire gasp, then her voice went high with panic. “Where are you? Farley, where are you?”

“My…apart-t…m-ment…” Farley didn’t get a chance to say anything else. His body seized up and every muscle threatened to rip free of his bones. The cell phone clattered to the floor and skittered across the busted tile. He tried not to scream, really he did, which lasted all of five seconds.

Farley’s last thought before he blacked out was who was going to turn the water off so he wouldn’t drown.

Orin still didn’t resist. Not even when a boot landed in his chest and knocked him from the back of the truck and onto the concrete.

“Not so tough now, are you wyrm?” A hand grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Orin obeyed.

The middle aged cop was soft all over, except for his eyes. They were as hard as diamonds. Hands jerked Orin off the ground and shoved him forward. He moved and his aching half-healed body screamed in protest. The cops herded him into a hallway and then a small room. It was empty except for a drain in the center of the floor.

Orin made it across the threshold and his knees gave out. Cold metal bit into his wrists and angry people in cop uniforms surrounded him.

He looked up. “I didn’t kill her.”

They all screamed as one. “Like hell you didn’t! Monster!

Fucking wyrm! Rapist! murderer! You ate out her insides! You ripped her apart!”

The first baton smashed Orin in his face, crushing his nose and shattering his teeth. The momentum knocked him on his side. Heavy shoes came down on his knees, his ribs, his back as he was buried alive by their hate.

Orin embraced every blow they delivered. He let them break him. Anything less would have made him into the thing they feared.

He feared.

After a while the hitting stopped and Orin concentrated on breathing. He was rewarded with air which felt like fire, followed by splinters of pain as he exhaled. Just under the ringing in his ears he could hear movement, talking, and after another long moment the door closed. Orin cracked his lids and saw a pair of black shiny shoes.

“Why did you do it, Orin?”

Orin blinked. He recognized the voice. God of Man, it was Mary’s brother. He looked up. “Brian, please, I didn’t kill her.”

“The fuck you didn’t. You killed her, Orin. You ate her.” Hands closed on the front of Orin’s coat and yanked him from the floor. “You’re nothing but a goddamned monster.”

Brian’s fist slammed into Orin’s stomach and he bowed over, vomiting a little bile and a lot more blood. He stayed crumpled up until Brian’s knee hit him in the face, cracking an orbital socket.

“I didn’t. I did not kill her. I swear.” Orin was yanked to his feet again and Brian’s face filled his view.

The pain and agony in the man’s eyes was blinding. “She was my baby sister.”

“I know…”

“Why did you do it? Just tell me.”

“Rehbek’ah did this. Not me.”

“Why? Why, Orin? Why?”

“To punish me. She killed her to punish me. I would never hurt Mary. You have to believe me.”

“And why would the Queen’s daughter use my Mary to hurt you, Orin? Tell me that. Convince me.”

God of Man, Mary had worked hard at never letting any of her family find out, but she was dead now and her secret only protected the living. “Mary and I were lovers.”

Brian flinched. “For how long?”

“A few years.”

“I don’t believe you. My little sister wasn’t like that. She would have never…not until she was married…that was her dream to have a big family. To be happy.”

Tears cut a path down the cop’s ruddy cheeks.

“I know. She didn’t want it to be like that, but it was a necessity.” Because Mary had to
feed
.

“A necessity?” Brian blinked and stepped back. “What
necessity
could ever make her fuck a wyrm?”

Yeah, without a doubt this wasn’t going to go well. Orin used the wall to hold himself up. “Brian, I’m sorry. Mary was Lesser-Bred.”

“Lesser-bred?”

Orin watched the plethora of emotions wash over the man’s face as he wrestled with the concept. For a few hopeful seconds he thought the cop would understand and accept what he said, but then his eyes flicked up.

The rage in Brian’s gaze was as palpable as metaphysics. “You’re lying!”

Orin dropped his head and stared at the floor which was now one big Jackson Pollock, a violence of green on gray. “She wasn’t Human, Brian. She didn’t want you to know. She didn’t want to hurt your moth--” The blow struck Orin with enough force to drive him to his knees.

A horrible ragged sound tore out of Brian’s throat. “Fuck you…fuck you…my sister….never….” His baton followed, striking a blow with every angry word. Choking on pain and blood, Orin didn’t see Brian pull a knife, but he felt it when the man shredded his clothes. All the while Brian screamed, “An eye for an eye, wyrm! An eye for an eye!”

The smell of buttered chicken reached Farley’s nose. Sweet warmth slid over his tongue and he swallowed. A round of shivers made his arms dance.

“Be still. You keep sliding under the water.”

Farley’s eyes opened and he saw Claire.

She pushed a cup to his lips. “It’s creamer. It was all I could find at the little store on the corner. I put some chicken noodle soup in there to give it more calories.”

“How…” As in, how did she know?

Claire gave a brittle laugh. “One of those stupid books. It said that when red meat wasn’t available, milk was a great source of calories, crème was better. And when a Kin’s body temp dropped this low they needed something easy to get down. Something about the swallowing reflex.” She shook her head and her blonde hair bobbed across her cheeks. “I don’t remember it all, but milk was on the list for fluids.” Farley was willing to bet it wasn’t at the top of the list. No, the top listing would be blood.

Claire tipped the cup forward and Farley tried to swallow, but it came out his nose. He shook his head when she tried again. God of Man, if only the muscle twitches would back off. But the water in the tub was barely warm now. No telling how long it had run cold before she got there.

“Claire, I need help.”

“That’s why I came. I called an ambulance, but they wouldn’t come this far into the Zone.” Of course they wouldn’t. It wasn’t worth getting eaten. “The 911 operator said if I could get you about two blocks outside the Fringe they’d pick you up.”

“Too cold…out.” Truth be told, Farley didn’t need an ambulance, he needed blood. And taking it from Claire wasn’t an option. In his condition he was likely to start and not be able to stop. Not to mention the whole staying on the wagon and off the Human blood and flesh thing he had going on.

“Ph-ph-phone?”

“The floor was flooded when I got here. I put it on a towel in the sink but I think it’s fried. I’ve got mine.” She held it up.

“I need you to call someone.”

“Who?”

“A friend…he can help.”

Claire pulled out her phone and Farley gave her the number.

“Who do I ask for?” She hit send.

“Justice. Ask…for…J-Justice.”

There was a pause, then Claire said, “Hi Gregory, my name is Claire Patterson, I’m calling for my…friend…Farley. He’s hurt and asking for someone named Justice.” Claire fell silent. “Hello?” A funny expression crossed her face and her brow creased. “Um, yeah…Justice? I don’t know. Shot I think. He’s in the tub.” She put her hand in the water. “No, it’s getting cold. Yes, I called the EMS, but they won’t come this close to the Dens. Yes, his place. On the South End. Apartment 4B.” She looked at Farley. “He wants to speak to you.”

Claire held the phone close to his ear.

“How bad?” Justice’s words were carried by Gregory’s voice.

“N-N-Need…” It was all he could get out.

“I will send someone to help you.”

“You…”

“I cannot. Not this time. Trust me, Farley. I will send someone.”

“’kay…”

Claire put the phone back to her ear, said yes a few times, then hung up. The cell disappeared into her pocket, and she picked up the cup and put it to his lips.

“He says you need to keep trying to eat.”

Farley tried, but lost more out his nose than he got down his throat. Claire’s small hands stroked his forehead. This close, he could taste her. Buttered chicken, chocolate, peaches…

His teeth shot off with a one-two punch. “Claire…you need…to leave…”

She shook her head.

“Please…”

“I can’t leave you. I’m not strong enough to lift you out of the tub and you could slide under again.” Which meant he’d already come close to drowning once. “If I drain the water you’ll just get cold faster.”

“Claire…”

“You have to
feed
. I know. Gregory…I mean Justice told me. I’m okay. I want to stay. I want to help.” Claire made a few more attempts with the soup crème mix she’d concocted. What Farley did manage to get down, did nothing for the blistering ache in his gut. Just when Farley didn’t think he could stand one more mouthful of the soup mix coming out his nose, there was a knock at the door.

Claire looked over her shoulder and out in the hall. “It’s open.”

Eddies of air stirred by movement, carried in a mixture of Human scent and burnt chocolate. Lesser-Bred.

Farley didn’t remember closing his eyes. Only that he blinked and a dark haired man was kneeling beside him. He looked almost ordinary except for his eyes, which were the brightest shade of blue Farley had ever seen. The Lesser-Bred looked back at Claire. She stood watching from the doorway. “I need you to turn the heat up as high as it will go.” When she was gone he looked at Farley and said. “I’m going to pick you up so we can go in the other room and get you warm.” Gentle hands touched Farley’s cheek, then his neck.

Yeah, warm was a definitely a good idea.

Arms moved under Farley and the Lesser-Bred plucked him out of the water with strength born of metaphysics. The carpet squished under foot until they got to Farley’s bedroom.

The Lesser-Bred said, “Help me get his clothes off.”

Claire moved to unbutton Farley’s pants but faltered. And he knew why--the scent of the Lesser-Bred had his cock making a tent in the front of his pants.

“Get his boots, I’ll get his pants.” Claire moved away and the Lesser-Bred took over. Farley’s clothes hit the floor. He did not miss how Claire averted her eyes.

The Lesser-Bred helped Farley sit up and ran a hand over his shoulder, then the side of his head. “You got hit pretty good.”

Claire made a nervous sound. “He’ll be okay, right?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. In the grand scheme of things the wounds are minor. The cold is the the problem right now. But I’ll fix that.”

The Lesser-Bred stood up and took off his coat, then his shirt. When he turned to hang everything on the bed post, Farley caught a glimpse of the massive Stain covering his back. Iridescent blues, silvers and purples swirled together forming the shape of wings. The Stain had been left behind by the metaphysical burn of going through
becoming
. The Lesser-Bred took a rubber band out his pocket and pulled back his thick black hair.

Claire put her hand over her mouth and one of the Lesser-Bred’s eyebrows went up. “You okay?”

She nodded.

Like hell she is.
And yet, this is what Claire wanted, wasn’t it? A look into his world? A walk on the wild side?

The Lesser-Bred put his hand on his belt and Farley noticed the wide expanse of scars peeking out over the edge of his jeans. Jesus, if the guy didn’t heal, he could wind up killing him.

The Lesser-Bred knelt down. “What’s wrong?”

Farley looked down at the guy’s scars, then back up.

The Lesser-Bred followed the path of his gaze. He shook his head. “Don’t worry, the scars are old. They happened before I went through my Shift. I can
feed
you. I heal almost as fast as you do. It’s why Justice asked for me. I can take the damage.”

Relief made Farley’s shoulders sag.

“By the way, my name is Adam.” He glanced back at Claire as he yanked the belt from his ragged-out jeans. “You are?” When she didn’t answer right away, he tossed a look back and forth between them.