The Wages of Sin (Blood Brothers Vampire Series Book Two) (8 page)

“I’m gonna go home with him,” said Vivienne.

“No you’re not,” said the sharp-faced girl. “I’ll
never hear the end of it.” She turned to Loki. “Sorry. She’s only
eighteen. She’s still in high school.”

“Hey, I’m not much older and I own the place,” said
Loki. “Know the secret? I never worried what would upset Mom.”

“Yeah, neither does she and it hasn’t really paid
off,” said the sharp-faced girl. Vivienne gave her the finger.

“Let’s just go,” said Thor, but Loki had a hard on
for Vivienne and they weren’t going anywhere without her.

“You know,” said Loki, “I know you’re her sister,
but you act like her mother. Girl’s already got a mother, and a
hard-assed one from the sound of it. Sisters ought to be advocates,
in the trenches together. Take my Brother here.” He put his arm
around Thor. “My dad was a mean old bastard and I wouldn’t have
gotten anywhere if my little bro hadn’t fought for the Resistance
with me.”

The girl seemed unimpressed so Thor gave her that
teen idol smile of his that girls masturbated to later. “Don’t mind
him,” he told the sharp-faced girl. “He likes to talk.”

“Yeah, he does,” she said, not realizing by agreeing
with Thor she was already establishing a bond.

“That’s a cute outfit,” he said. If you look like
Thor and have the same level of confidence, this is all you have to
say. “What’s your name?”

“Beverly,” said the girl. “Bev.”

Thor took her hand and kissed it. What the hell. If
he didn’t drain her she’d report her sister missing and make Loki
the prime suspect. There was no sensible option other than to fuck
her and drink her blood.

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

Loki’s place was in the middle of nowhere. Horace
parked half a mile past it and walked back to stay inconspicuous in
case Thor was coming or going. As a former cop, he ought to have
wanted proof Thor was his man, but he’d never been a good cop.
Acting without proof was an easy way to speed up the process and he
was after peace of mind, not a conviction. Tonight, ‘pretty sure’
was sure enough.

As he traversed a dirt road that was a little long
to be considered a driveway, he imagined Thor’s obituary.

DOUGLAS THOR.

DEVOTED BROTHER.

BELOVED SON.

SADISTIC FUCK.

He heard an engine behind him and turned. There was
a pair of headlights off in the distance coming toward him. He
ducked behind some bushes fifty feet from the front door.

Six people piled out of the Rolls Royce—first three
young women and a large man who had all been piled into the
backseat, then a not-so-happy and slightly drunk looking fellow in
his early thirties who had been in the driver’s seat, and
then—yes!—a rather dashing boy with blonde hair and blue eyes who’d
been riding shotgun.

The big fellow sang songs and
danced with one of the girls and slid his hands up and down her
body. The girl was high school aged and so she could neither hold
her liquor nor keep her vagina in her pants with both hands and six
rolls of duct tape. She was rubbing his crotch through his pants
and whispering in his ear, probably dirty talk about cocks and
pussies with all the words she’d heard in porno movies, words
like
big,
hard,
tight, wet,
and so forth. ‘I want to put
your such-and-such in my such-and-such.’

The blonde-haired chap, who must
have been the honorable Douglas Thor, was resting his hand against
the side of the house near the older girl’s head and talking in a
way that had her equally mesmerized and horny. It was possible he
was also using words like
big, hard,
tight,
and
wet,
but she looked like a college
girl rather than a high school one, so it was more likely he was
talking about money and/or the federal government, or possibly
dying African children.

The other two—the serious guy and the black
girl—didn’t look as eager to rub their privates together as
everybody else. In fact they both looked downright uncomfortable
and tried to console each other as the others danced and flirted in
the front yard. Whatever might have been bothering them, it was
none of Horace’s business. He was just here to kill Thor. Once that
was done, he could be on his way.

When they entered the house, they locked the door
behind them. It took a few minutes for Horace to find an
out-of-the-way window to smash open and climb through.

“You two ought to loosen up,” Loki said to Jonathan
and Jewel. “Get your fuck on. We won’t peak.”

“Yeah!” shouted Vivienne, who was drunk enough she
didn’t understand anything going on around her. All she knew was
there was loud music and she was dancing with a hot guy in
somebody’s house.

“Here you go. Like high school, right?” said Loki,
pushing the couple into a closet and shutting the door.

“Seven minutes in heaven!” said Vivienne. This is
the name of a game teens and preteens play where girls give orgasms
to boys whose names they don’t know without feeling like sluts.

Thor and Bev were dancing a quiet and understated
dance in some corner of the room, looking much older and more
mature than Loki and Vivienne since Bev was older and less
shit-faced.

“You are so right,” Bev said about some point Thor
had been making.

“They’re the enemies of progress,” said Thor. “Every
important milestone in this nation’s history, the GOP has stood in
the way and held us back.”

Bev brought up something about animal rights and
Thor agreed that people shouldn’t wear leather or whatever the fuck
she was on about. This was standard conversation for seducing a
college girl. It probably wouldn’t have felt so tedious if he
wasn’t so preoccupied with getting out of town.

“I want to suck your dick!” Vivienne shouted from
across the room, louder than anyone ought to shout that particular
sentence. What had happened was she had begun talking just as a
rather loud song finished playing. Everyone looked at her and she
blushed slightly, too intoxicated to be properly embarrassed.

“God, just take her somewhere and do whatever you’re
gonna do. I don’t wanna know,” said Beverly to Loki. He complied,
and within a few seconds he and Vivienne had vanished down a
hallway.

Thor and Bev danced quietly for a minute before Thor
said, in a very ‘college boy’ sort of way, “My brother’s totally
getting a BJ from your sister right now.”

Bev laughed, pressing her forehead into Thor’s
shoulder. “I know. God. I’m so embarrassed.”

“It’s fine. It’s good. They’re having fun.”

“
Are
you
having fun?”

“…Sure.”

“What was that pause?”

“Nothing.”

“What are you, jealous?”

“No.”

“You’re totally jealous!”

“Eh… little bit.”

Thor gave her that boyish teen heartthrob grin and
she laughed and kissed him. It wasn’t their first kiss of the
night, but it was the first one that included unzipping his
pants.

He kissed her neck and felt the warmth of the blood
beneath the skin.

It took a long time for Horace to find his way
through the house. He could tell there was music playing a few
rooms away and he assumed that was where everybody was, but he
didn’t want to make the mistake of rushing in and getting shot to
death by the big guy before he could find his way to Thor. For all
he knew there were thirty people in the house in addition to the
six he’d seen enter.

He crept through dark hallways with his silver knife
in his hand for ten minutes or so, moving steadily in the direction
of the music, before he saw light up ahead and assumed he must be
close.

Then the song came to an end and a voice shouted, “I
want to suck your dick!”

The drunk girl.

Yeah, that’s right. Take that big bastard out of the
room and leave my blonde friend alone. Just don’t come down this
hallway.

Following a few words from the other room, one of
Horace’s prayers was answered and the other was shat upon. Loki and
the drunk girl came barreling down the hallway toward him. He
ducked through a door to his right, hoping he wasn’t entering the
same room they were. He was.

The big bastard flipped on the lights as Horace hid
behind the door.

The room was a bedroom, apparently. It had been too
dark to distinguish anything when he entered but now he could see
there was a king-sized bed with gorgeous red sheets that looked to
cost a thousand dollars or more. Horace wasn’t aware of it, but the
sheets were red so that blood stains would be less obvious.

Thankfully, the wall he had his back to was a short
one with an adjacent wall immediately on his left and the open door
immediately on his right, creating a boxed-in area that separated
him from the rest of the room and more or less blocked him from
view of the big bastard and the drunk girl.

“Do you want to see my titties?” asked the drunk
girl in a baby-talk voice that was supposed to sound seductive but
actually sounded like a five-year-old whose titties nobody wanted
to see.

Fucking kids. Children. Why were they so dirty, so
lecherous? Is this how Samantha talked around her boyfriends?
Around that idiot with the pierced cock who couldn’t handle staples
to the thighs?

Horace didn’t want to think about the
eighteen-year-old breasts on the other side of the door. He
occupied his mind with the thought that he might be dead in a few
seconds. He imagined the big bastard getting up to close the door
and how he’d have to stab him in the face if it happened.

“Take your panties off,” the big bastard said.

“Do you like?” the girl’s voice asked a moment
later.

Horace held the knife to his chest. If the door
moved an inch, he was prepared to start stabbing. He didn’t think
the young lady would be the one to shut the door, and he sure as
shit hoped she wouldn’t because he would have hated to kill an
innocent girl even younger than the one he was avenging. But if it
happened, it happened. What they call collateral damage. As long as
Thor was dead by the end of the night, that was all that really
mattered.

“Are you gonna eat my pussy?” said the young slut
with the filthy mouth.

“I thought you were going to suck my cock,” said the
young man who was just a young man.

“Do you want to sixty-nine?”

The big bastard acknowledged with a happy moan that
sounded to be in the affirmative, then kissing was heard along with
some rustling that might have been the sounds of either party
disrobing.

All the while Horace waited for someone to shut the
door, waited in his stab-ready stance, but it sounded as though
nobody was worried about being seen in the midst of a lewd act.

And a lewd act it was. Horace’s sexual vocabulary
wasn’t what it used to be, but he was pretty sure that during a
‘sixty-nine’ neither party had a good view of the room, giving him
a window of opportunity to escape.

The young girl said something filthy about the
flavor of the big bastard’s parts and Horace took it to mean the
act had commenced. He slid the door back and peaked out from behind
it, doing his best to keep his eyes fixed to the big bastard’s face
without looking at the vulva it was mashed into. He couldn’t look
away lest he risk getting spotted, but he didn’t want to witness
any of what he was looking at. He did his best to watch without
seeing. In a minute he was out of the room and down the hall
without having been spotted, and he was standing in the doorway of
the living room.

The frightened couple, the interracial one, were
nowhere to be seen. But based on the activity within the living
room, they weren’t here at the moment.

Mr. Thor was seated on the couch with his back to
Horace, his pants and briefs around his ankles. In front of him,
the sharp-faced girl was kneeling, naked from the waist up, with
her head bobbing up and down in his lap. Thor leaned his head back
on the couch and shut his eyes, stroking the girl’s hair with his
right hand.

Fuck it. Now’s as good a time as any.

Horace tightened his grip on the silver knife and
stepped forward.

In the darkness of the closet, Jonathan and Jewel
were huddled together listening to the activity outside and
occasionally whispering into each other’s ears.

“Do you think they forgot about us?” Jewel
asked.

“Doubt it,” said Jonathan.

Outside there was the sound of lips smacking. A
piece of clothing hit the floor. A belt was undone.

“If they come back, they’re going to lock us in a
room,” said Jonathan. “Should we make a break for it?”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Ooh, hello,” Thor’s voice said in the tone all men
use when their penises are inserted into mouths.

“All right,” said Jonathan. “She’s sucking his dick.
Now’s our chance. Do we run like hell or do we move slow and try to
sneak past?”

“I don’t know.”

“Pick one, Jewel. We have to pick one.”

Jewel said nothing.

The footsteps of a large man could all of a sudden
be heard arriving in front of the closet and coming to a stop.

Loki. Fuck.

Jonathan and Jewel stayed silent. Jonathan knew they
hadn’t been forgotten, but the longer they were left alone, the
better their chances of finding a window of opportunity.

The heavy footsteps moved away from the closet.

“Okay,” Jonathan whispered. “I’m going to open the
door, then you take my hand and we’re going to run. Got it?”

Jewel shook her head.

“Jewel. Get ready to run. Okay?”

She took a breath. “Okay.”

They grabbed each other’s hands and searched for
courage.

A voice on the other end of the door said, “You’re
Thor, right?”