City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood (37 page)

Orin sat down on the edge of the tub and tried to collect his thoughts. He remembered getting out of the other room when Haley stripped off her shirt. Putting a pillow over his head did nothing for the noise, and if that hadn’t been humiliating enough, he’d eventually had to ease himself or something would have burst.

He stood up and leaned over the sink, turned on the water and splashed his face and neck, not caring that more got on the floor than him. When he reached for a towel his hand was shaking, and it wasn’t the prospect of seeing the lawyer scaring the shit out of him.

He was going to give Serena’s RHage to Haley.

Insane. Abso-fucking-lutely insane.

And what made the whole situation so bad—God of Man, Orin didn’t even want to examine the horrible thought—is he wanted to do it. Not just to get rid of it, but for the chance to be with her.

You just passed up your second opportunity last night, buddy.

Yeah, but this way, he could hide behind the veil of necessity and not have to face what he was.

What was wrong with him?

You’re not Human. If you want her, ask her. Get on your knees and fucking beg for it. She’d give you what you wanted. You know she would. She’s Kin, you’re Kin, it’s only normal…

And yet Orin’s
need
completely repulsed him.

You didn’t feel that way when she was practically sitting in your lap
. Listening to the little voice in his head and knowing it was right was like getting poked in the eye with a stick.

A very sharp stick.

Orin looked at himself in the mirror and saw a different Kin looking back. His hair was the same, so were the eyes, and his silver Nevus was still on his right pectoral. The body he’d made himself was still the same moderate frame, each muscle carved and placed with perfection. No belly button. No hair. Not a single freckle, mole or discoloration across his perfect skin. Flawless. Haley would call him beautiful.

And yet, all he saw was a creature. A thing. A physical embodiment of sin. Glutton and carnal need.

A beast.

Orin did not want to go back to what he’d been just a century ago, and
feeding
was a one way trip there. It would obliterate his veil of humanity. Hell, he was already on his way. Pretty soon he’d be back in the Dens rolling with Males like Farley.

Orin took a mouth full of water, rinsed and spit. He stared at the drain as if the answer to his questions might actually crawl out of the thing. They didn’t, but the whole water-circling-and going-down-the-hole was a total illustration of his life.

Maybe Ray would be willing to try again, at least until Orin found a donor. If Rehbek’ah was taken care of there would be no reason for him not to have access to real blood again for the sterile
feedings
. However, if Medan found out, she was apt to shut that down just like Re’ka.

Of course there was the other small problem. Even if Orin could find someone willing and even if Medan did agree to look the other way, would he be able to go back to it?

Even now the only thing Orin could think about was the sensation of flesh between his teeth, blood sliding down his throat, heat burning… Growling, he turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry off his face in a quick swipe. Orin tossed it on the counter and happened to glance up one more time.

Rehbek’ah stared at him. Orin whirled, caught his hip on the counter and hit the water he’d sloshed on the floor, and went backwards. Grabbing the shower curtain broke his fall, but it ripped the rod right out of the tile. He went sprawling into the tub, one leg in, one leg out, tangled up in the blue mass of plastic, hands flailing.

“Come to me, Orin,” Rehbek’ah said.

He clamped his hands over his ears and clenched his eyes shut, but it did nothing to shut her out.

“Oooooriiiiinnnnn…”

“Fuck you.”

“You will come to me. You will beg me. It’s only a matter of time.”

How was she doing this? Then he remembered--Medan said her RHage was Blood. Those cops had left plenty of his all over the concrete at the fairgrounds. It only took a drop, maybe two.

Orin said, “You’re not here, you’re just in my head.”

Rehbek’ah laughed. “I have your blood. It’s only a matter of time before I own the rest of you as well.”

Not here, not here. It became Orin’s mantra. When there was nothing but silence,

Orin opened his eyes. The bathroom was empty, except for him. His chest heaved and his hearts jack hammered behind his ribs. Orin kicked the rod and threw the curtain to the side, and scrambled out of the tub.

He did not need this.

Rehbek’ah had a part of him he’d left behind, and now she could worm her way into his thoughts. At least she couldn’t force him to her. Not yet anyhow. If her First RHage had been Flesh he wouldn’t even have the option of ignoring her. Blood just gave her the ability to make him see her when she wasn’t here. But Orin knew it was only a matter of time. She’d find some way to get to him. Some way to force him to obey.

Haley slid her feet into the black suede boot and sighed.

“They’re Manolo,” Deshi said. She ran her hands across the velvet surface. It was as soft as Human skin. “I hope you like them.”

“They’re…beautiful.” They were beautiful. Not just beautiful but expensive. These kind of shoes didn’t come off a store shelf somewhere. No, Deshi had them custom made. Just like everything else, only the best, only the most expensive.

Perfection.

“Deshi, you really shouldn’t have.” Because now that they were on Haley’s feet they were never coming off. When she looked at him he was smiling and his eyes were happy. Really happy.

The Prince shrugged. “You like them. That’s all that matters.”

Haley stood. Three inch heels which felt this good defied the laws of physics. She went to Deshi and wrapped herself around him.

The Prince’s chest rose and fell with a deep contented sigh. “I was going to save them for Christmas. But I couldn’t wait to give them to you.”

So he had put them on order a long time ago. Haley was willing to bet months. Probably long before the incident over Emily. “Thank you.”

Deshi stroked her head, his agile fingers sliding over the ridges of her braid to the nape of her neck. Her nevus warmed under his hand and his fingers made small circles over the design. The touch radiated over her entire body. After all, the Nevus was a direct point of metaphysical self for the species.

It struck Haley then, the amount of pain he must have endured to have his removed. “Does it hurt?” When the Jersey City Prince didn’t answer, she looked at him. “Deshi, does it hurt not having a Nevus?” His eyes told her everything she didn’t want to know.

A door slammed and Orin came storming out of the bedroom. He’d found the slacks Deshi had left on the bed. They were too long and made little folds around his ankles, but they were too expensive to not look nice. With a look of pure fury on his face he shoved on the black button-up in his hands.

Haley asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Rehbek’ah.” He said the name with nothing but pure venom. Orin stopped by the table and snatched a handful of sausage patties from the tray room service had brought up. Haley went to the counter and grabbed him a plate. “She’s tasted my blood.”

Haley’s stomach flipped. “When?”

Orin stuffed two in his mouth and piled more on the plate beside a mound of eggs. “Probably got it out of the park. No, I know that’s where she got it from. Stupid bitch probably laughed while they beat the shit out of me.” He gave a snort, grabbed one of the little cartons of OJ and ripped open the top. “Medan said her RHage was Blood. I should have known with Rehbek’ah’s little head tricks something like this would be right up her alley.”

“Like what, Orin? What did she do?”

Orin’s green, green eyes flashed up at her over the carton. He drained the thing and opened another.

Finally he said, “Nothing.” He drank the next juice with just as much gusto.

Deshi picked up his empty plate and took it to the sink. Haley didn’t miss how Orin followed the Jersey City Prince’s movement with his eyes while he dug into his eggs.

The Prince gathered up his jacket from the chair and slid into it. It was made of tan fabric that looked almost gold against the black slacks he had on. The piece was by some Italian designer Haley had never heard of. She only knew that because the name was on the paper it had been wrapped in. It didn’t even have a tag in the back. Deshi adjusted the collar, ran his hands down the arms, then fastened the first two buttons. It was cut longer than his usual, the ends coming well below his hip. But it looked nice, really nice. While Deshi stood there looking like an ad for some European clothing magazine, Haley went back to watching Orin.

Whatever had happened, Orin wasn’t sharing.

The phone rang and Deshi picked it up. He listened, hung up, then said, “Mr. Maze is out front waiting.”

Orin gave a nod, crammed down two strips of bacon, scrubbed his hands on a napkin and stood up. “I’m ready when you are.”

Today the Escalade was black. The interior was also black and instead of deep mahogany wood paneling it was pale ivory. It made Haley feel like she was trapped inside of a giant Domino. She noticed the doors lacked any window buttons. When she asked Maze about that he said they didn’t roll down. The glass was a new type of polymer, bullet and alchemy proof.

Haley decided it was better not to pry after that.

All three of them sat in the very back because Christopher Maze was not alone this time. One woman and one man, neither with a legal air about them, sat on his left in the middle seat. The two additions looked like assembly line corporate America cutouts. Especially the woman; like she should have accessories such as flow charts or maybe one of those little red pointers, but maybe lawyers didn’t always look like lawyers.

Maze introduced them as Adrian and Beth. That was all the information he gave. So whatever they did was either mundane or too complex to explain in under three minutes. Haley bet on the latter.

Maze turned in his seat and propped up his elbow on the edge. He gave them all a once over, clearly approving of how they were dressed. After all, nothing says upstanding citizen like nice clothes. He said, “Today the same rules will apply.” His shrewd gaze slid to Orin. “That means you say nothing unless I approve, and only if I’m glued to your side. The DA will try and cut you a deal, let you plead on a lesser charge, and that’s not going to happen.”

Yeah, because nothing was lesser if he still wound up dead. Life or five years wouldn’t matter down in the Atlanta Draconian Facility. Isolated, Orin would die just like so many others before him. Haley forced herself not to think about that. Unfortunately it was a losing battle.

“The cops are going to try and bury what they did, and that means we dig it up. This is going to get ugly. Really ugly.” Something in Maze’s tone suggested bad things were hiding under the bed. “Orin…” When a lawyer pauses because he’s at a loss for words it means those bad things just became apocalyptical.

Mr. Maze’s mouth became an angry line.

Orin nodded. “I get it. Things are going to get bad.”

“It was videotaped,” Maze said.

“I know, you told me.”

Maze shook his head. “In the Tank. There’s a camera there they use to video tape the interviews.”

Haley watched all the color drain out of Orin’s face and he suddenly looked every bit of the eight hundred years he was. Haley put her hand over his, and since he didn’t pull away she left it there.

She looked at Maze. “Are you going to be able to keep it out of the Media?” She asked because she was pretty sure that’s exactly what Orin was thinking.

Maze gave a nod. “I’m confident I can. It’s on a DVR. I managed to get a judge’s order for the hard drive to be collected and put into evidence.”

“I don’t want it used. It could ruin my chances for ever going back to teaching.” Orin rubbed a trembling hand over his chin.

Deshi spoke up, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, and I could just imagine how the students and teachers I work with are going to react when video of me being fucked with a night stick by a pissed off cop winds up on the internet!”

Haley winced. Saying it aloud made it too real. Too ugly.

Orin’s sea foam green eyes hit her hard. “Did you know?”

Haley swallowed. All the hurt in his eyes, all the fear, it made her insides curl. “No, I swear, I didn’t.” If she had she would have told him, prepared him. Not that it would have done much good.

Orin flipped his gaze to Deshi. “But you did, didn’t you?”

When Haley looked at the Prince he was staring at his knees. “Deshi?” Surely if he knew he would have…but she didn’t need an answer. He wore guilt like he wore his fancy Italian suits.

All too well.

Deshi said, “I couldn’t.”

Haley frowned. “What do you mean, you couldn’t?”

“I told him not to,” Maze said. “Things were bad enough. We didn’t need to add to the complication.”

But it was adding to it now.

Deshi leaned towards Maze. “Is there any possibility we petition the court to have it destroyed?”

“Unlikely.”

Orin barked a laugh. “How do we even know there aren’t copies already floating around? Hell, for all we know it could be on YouTube.”

Maze tipped his head at the two people beside him. “It’s unlikely, but Adrian and Beth are watching any and all outlets. Orin, the cops do not want this out. I guarantee you that they would have turned it off if they hadn’t forgotten about it being on. They are as panicked about the video getting to the media as you are, more so perhaps. For different reasons of course, but panicked all the same.”

“And you’re sure it can’t be destroyed?” Deshi asked again.

Maze looked at him and his eyebrows came down. “I can make a few phone calls, but it won’t be easy.”

The Jersey City Prince nodded. “I’ll cover it.”

Orin glared at the Prince. “What the hell? Am I going deaf or did you just offer to pay him to have it destroyed?”

Deshi brought his baby blues up. Once again Haley saw a deep potential for the kind of anger that had made him throw her into the wall over Emily. “It’s only money.”