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Mahati smiled gratefully and nodded to the big redhead. “Thank you. It will be a learning experience for both of us. I’m sure Henry will appreciate the guidance I can provide.”
Camila gave Roy a puzzled look but schooled her expression when she caught the twinkle in the redhead’s eye. “Y-yes, thank you, Mahati.”
Sigrid was still bristling as she watched the smiling lawyer stand and leave the room.
When the door was closed again, the tall blond turned on Roy. “What the hell?!?”
Roy chuckled and held up his hands in defense. “Have you no eyes in your head?” he teased. “The woman was going all gooey when she snuck looks at Henry in the meeting. Now, she’s taking an active interest in his well-being. That’s a far cry from the attitude she presented on her first day when she attempted to kill him. I do feel better about her protecting him in Washington.”
It was Camila’s turn to chuckle as she stared at Roy in delight. “Who is this man, disguising himself as VRL’s brusque Head of Security? He’s much too aware of girly things like emotions and sensitivities.”
“Hush, you. I’m just looking out for VRL’s future. Henry is as closely tied to that as any of us. Besides, he’s like a son to me, and I agree that we sometimes do treat him like fine china,” the big man admitted with a small smile.
“I think Henry is perfect as he is! There’s no need to change him!” Sigrid insisted indignantly.
Camila grinned. “Well, there’s proof that Mahati’s efforts are going to be in vain.”
Roy and Sigrid looked at her questioningly.
“If Henry can wrap a Valkyrie around his little finger, what chance does a Nāga have?” the CEO quipped.
Roy burst into laughter at Sigrid’s sweet pout.
Roger screamed into a pillow as the pain surged along his raw nerves once more. When the latest wave passed, he slumped on the dirty sofa cushions and panted.
He had severe, blistering burns across his back, his ass, and a stripe across each thigh.
But the worst of them was across his face.
He should have listened to his instincts. He’d been preparing to grab Henry last night as he talked to the weird cat when Dayshia intervened. She’d walked up to Henry, and they spoke for a moment before walking towards his building. Roger’s first reaction when he saw Dayshia was to flee. His instincts were rattled by the sight of her and screamed at him to leave quickly and silently. But he was so sick of living in squalor he decided he could take them both. Dayshia was no longer Human, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat her. He’d planned on just ending her suffering as the monster she’d become. He needed to question Henry. The man had all the answers.
She must have felt his attention as she suddenly turned, and there was pain. It tore across his face, and as he ran from them screaming in agony, the pain returned to rip across his body. He barely managed to get away.
He found his clothes tied to his bicycle and got dressed as quickly as possible, but the pain was intense. He rode away, each pedal stroke was pure torture, but he pushed through it.
It took all night, but he made it back to the dump he hid in during the cruel hours of daylight.
Roger needed to eat. He wouldn’t heal if he didn’t eat. But he couldn’t go out in the daylight. He’d have to wait until nightfall.
Then he’d hunt.
The next wave of pain was beginning, so he bit down on the pillow and screamed.
-=-
The squad car rolled quietly down the alley between the derelict homes. The occupants, two street cops with decades under their belts, kept a careful watch for ambush. They knew the man they were visiting had a bad habit of shooting at uninvited visitors.
“When was the last time you spoke to Rawlie?” Officer DeAngelo asked his partner, Officer Blane, as he nervously scanned the building’s windows from the passenger seat. They were the odd couple of their precinct. Blane was a huge man with a large frame and muscles turning to fat. DeAngelo stood 5′ 7″ and had a slim physique.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.
Blane squeezed the wheel in his big hands and frowned as he tried to recall. “Shit, it’s gotta be at least eight months?” His voice was deep and rough from vocal cord surgery years ago.
That brought a scowl to DeAngelo’s face. The two men used the hermit as a source of extra income, unofficially collecting rent for allowing him to live in the condemned building. With the extra hours they’d had to put in for the bloody serial killer hunt, they hadn’t been able to get back to their rent collecting. “So, we gonna take eight months of rent from him?”
Blane glanced over at his partner. “Yeah. I gotta pay for my kid’s music lessons. Fuckin’ brat.”
DeAngelo chuckled. “Shoulda thought of that before ya knocked up Bernice!”
“Hey! She was a beauty… before she got fat… and mean,” Blane growled quietly, which made his partner bark a laugh.
The cruiser stopped on the gravel drive behind the derelict house, and they got out. Walking towards the back door, they continued to scan the windows with their hands resting on their guns.
No sign of Rawlie.
Resting on its side next to the back door was a fat tire bicycle. The two cops glanced at each other as it looked like a high-end model. Blane frowned as he squatted down to touch a spot of something red on the saddle. He brought his finger up to his nose and sniffed.
“It’s blood, and it’s still tacky,” the big cop said.
“Must be a rough life, livin’ off the streets and bein’ a hoarder.” He scowled as he shivered. “Shit! Let’s get this over with. I can’t stand the fuckin’ smell of the guy.”
They entered the building and immediately stopped as they heard an odd sound. Muffled screaming. They shared another glance and pulled their weapons.
The rank stench of mildew, mold, rot, and burnt meat made DeAngelo suddenly cough and gag. Blane shot a quick glare at his partner as the screaming suddenly cut off.
They cautiously moved down a hallway, trying for silence, but that was impossible due to a thick layer of trash on the floor. The hall ended at an open doorway leading to a kitchen. On the right wall was another entrance much closer to them.
They stopped just before the right-side doorway. All they could hear coming from inside was a steady ticking, like a clock, but slower.
Blane gestured he was going to look inside, and his partner nodded. The big man ducked his head around the doorway for a quick look, then pulled back. He looked to DeAngelo and shook his head. The clicking continued.
Blane turned once more to the doorway, and his gun preceded him into the room. He stepped through the entrance, boots crunching on bits of broken plaster scattered on the floor.
DeAngelo moved to put his back to the wall across from the doorway, gun aimed away from his partner’s back. He noticed some falling grit and dust landing on Blane’s shoulders and looked down at the plaster chunks on the floor. He opened his mouth to shout a warning when Blane spun and looked up at a crunching noise above and behind him. He tried to raise his weapon, but a dark shape dropped on him and savagely bit down on his shoulder.
His gun went off, then went spinning off into the room as he lost strength in his right hand. He was dragged to the floor by his attacker. The agony in his shoulder got worse as whatever was attacking him rabidly chewing on him, snapping bone, slashing muscle, and cutting nerves and blood vessels.
Blane lifted his head to call DeAngelo for help, but he saw his partner sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall, blood gushing from the bullet wound on his neck. The shot officer’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. Blane was on his own.
With a mighty roar, the big cop drew upon his ogre strength and pushed himself to his feet, staggering under the bulk of his assailant. Turning slightly, he charged across the cluttered room to slam the creature through the wall into the kitchen. Wood and plaster exploded, cabinets full of rotting crap crashed down on them, and the thing released its grip on his shoulder. Blane pushed himself back to his feet but wobbled as his head spun from blood loss. He viciously kicked the creature in the ribs, hearing a dull snap. As he tried to plant a second kick on the broken rib, the thing suddenly shifted to the side, grabbed his leg, and stabbed its long claws deep into Blane’s inner thigh. A great gout of blood followed the claws when they ripped free.
Blane staggered back and fell as his injured leg gave out. He crashed against an old fridge and slumped to the floor as he felt his life draining away. Turning his head, he looked towards his partner up the hallway. His eyes widened as DeAngelo wasn’t there. The outer door was slightly ajar. He’d gotten out! Blane had to give his partner time to call for help.
Wearily, he turned his face back to the creature, which struggled to free itself from the rubble.
“What the fuck are you?” Blane spat as he held onto his consciousness.
The thing stood as it kicked loose from the broken cabinetry, then it faced him. Red eyes. Terrible burns on its face, long bloody teeth, and those sharp claws. Blane shuddered.
“What an unexpected gift! A monster that came to me!” it said, shocking Blane. He thought it was just some kind of beast.