Chapter Thirty-nine

Up north in the adirondacks, deep in a cave in Black Snake State Park, the male who had collapsed at the coming of the dawn two days ago could not understand why the sun was shining on him and he wasn’t up in flames. Unless he was in the Fade?

No… this couldn’t be the Fade. The aches and pains in his body and the screaming in his head were too much like what he felt on Earth.

Except, what about the sun? He was bathed in its warm glow, and yet he breathed.

Man, if all that vampire-no-daylight shit was a lie, the race was an idiot as a whole.

But, wait, wasn’t he in a cave? So how were the rays reaching him?

“Eat this,” the sunshine said.

Okay, going with the idea, however improbable it was, that he remained alive, clearly he was hallucinating. Because what was shoved in his face looked like a McDonald ’s Big Mac, and that was impossible.

Unless he actually was dead, and the Fade had the Golden Arches instead of the golden gates?

“Look,” the sunshine said, “if your brain’s forgotten how to eat, just open that mouth of yours. I’ll cram this fucker in and we’ll see if your teeth remember what to do.”

The male parted his lips, because the smell of the meat was waking his stomach up and making him drool like a dog. When the hamburger was stuffed into him, his jaw went on autopilot, clamping down hard.

As he tore a hunk off, he moaned. For a brief moment, the tingling approval of his taste buds replaced all of his suffering, even the mental shit. Swallowing brought another whimper out of him.

“Take more,” the sunshine said, pressing the Big Mac back against his lips.

He ate it all. And some fries that were lukewarm, but a godsend nonetheless. Then his head was lifted and he sucked back some slightly watery Coke.

“The nearest Mickey D’s is twenty miles away,” the sunshine said, like it was looking to fill the silence. “That’s why it’s not as hot as it could be.”

The male wanted more.

“Yup, I got you seconds. Open wide.”

Another Big Mac. More fries. More Coke.

“I’ve done the best I can with you, but you need blood,” the sunshine told him, like he was a child. “And you need to go home.”

As the male shook his head, he realized he was lying on his back with a slab of rock for his pillow and a dirt floor as his mattress. He wasn’t in the same cave as before, though. This one smelled different. It smelled like… fresh air, fresh spring air.

Although… maybe that was the sunshine’s scent?

“Yeah, you need to go home.”

"No…”

“Well, then we got a problem, you and me,” the sunshine muttered. There was a shuffling like someone big was sitting down on their haunches. “You’re the favor I need to return.”

The male frowned, dragged in a breath, and croaked, “Nowhere to go. No favor.”

“Not your call, buddy. Or mine.” The sunshine seemed to be shaking its head, because the blurry shadows it created in the cave shifted like waves. “Unfortunately, I gotta deliver your ass back to where you belong.”

“I’m nothing to you.”

“In a perfect world, that would be true. Unfortunately, this ain’t heaven. Not by a long shot.”

The male couldn’t agree more, but the whole going-home thing was bullshit. As the energy from the food seeped into him, he found the strength to sit up, rub his eyes, and-

He stared at the sunshine. “Oh… shit.”

The sunshine nodded grimly. “Yeah, that’s pretty much how I feel about it. So here’s the deal, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Your pick. Although I would like to point out that if I have to find your place without your help, it’s going to require some effort on my part, and that’s going to crank my shit out.”

“I’m not going back there. Ever.”

The sunshine put a hand through his long blond-and-black hair. Golden rings glinted on his fingers and flashed from his ears and winked from his nose and glittered around his thick neck. Brilliant white, pupil-less eyes flashed with a boatload of pissed off, the bright blue ring around those moonlike irises flashing navy.

“Right. The hard way. Say good night, Gracie.”

As everything went black, the male heard the fallen angel Lassiter say, “Mother. Fucker.”

Chapter Forty

"Did you see the look on Phury’s face?” Blay said.

John glanced across the island in the kitchen and nodded in total agreement. He and his buddies were sucking back relief beers. At a dead run.

He had never seen any male look like that. Ever.

“That was some bonded-male shit, for real,” Qhuinn said as he went over to the refrigerator, opened the door, and took out another three bottles from the queen’s Sam Adams stable.

Blay took the one he was offered, then winced and prodded at his shoulder.

John cracked open his freshie and took a slug. Putting down the bottle, he signed, I’m worried about Cormia.

“He won’t hurt her.” Qhuinn sat down at the table. “Nah, no way. He might have planted us in early graves, but not her.”

John peeked out into the dining room. There were doors shutting. Loudly.

“Well, there are a lot of people in this house…” Qhuinn looked around like he was tackling a bad math problem in his head. “Including the three of us. Go fig.”

John stood up. I have to go check. I won’t… you know, interrupt anything. I just want to make sure everything’s cool.

“I’ll go with you,” Qhuinn said as he started to get up again.

No, you’ll stay here. And before you gum-flap, fuck you. This is my home, and I don’t need a shadow all the time.

“Okay, okay, okay.” Qhuinn’s eyes shifted to Blay. “Then we’ll hit the PT suite. Meet us there?”

“Why are we going to the PT suite?” Blay asked without looking at the guy.

“Because you’re still bleeding and you don’t know how to get to the first-aid shit from here.”

Qhuinn stared hard at Blay. Blay stared hard at his beer.

“Why don’t you just tell me how to get there,” Blay muttered.

“And how are you going to handle your back?”

Blay took a long suck on his Sam. “Fine. But I want to finish my beer first. And I have to have something to eat. I’m starved.”

“Fine. What kind of food do you want.”

The two were a pair of Joe Fridays, stiff and staying to the facts.

I’ll meet you guys down there, John signed, and turned away. Man, the two of them not getting along upset the whole world order in a way. It was just wrong.

John left through the dining room and was all but jogging by the time he made it to the top of the grand staircase. Up on the second floor, he smelled red smoke and heard opera coming from Phury’s room-the poetic-sounding one he usually played.

Hardly the accompaniment for hard-core marking. Maybe they’d just gone to their separate bedrooms after an argument?

John crept up to Cormia’s room and listened. Nothing. Although the draft drifting out into the hall was perfumed by a lush, flowery fragrance.

Figuring it couldn’t hurt just to see if Cormia was okay, John lifted his knuckles and rapped on her door softly. When there was no answer, he whistled.

“John?” her voice said.

He opened the door because he assumed he was meant-

John froze.

Cormia was lying across her bed on a tangled mess of duvet covers and sheets. She was naked, with her back to the door, and there was blood… on the insides of her thighs.

She lifted her head over her shoulder, then scrambled to cover herself. “Dearest Virgin!”

As she snapped the duvet up to her neck, John stood stock-still, his brain trying to process the scene.

He’d hurt her. Phury had hurt her.

Cormia shook her head. “Oh… damn.”

John blinked and blinked again… only to see his younger self in a grungy hallway after what had been done to him had finished.