looked around the basement. Knives, razors, and hammers were scattered out of order on the cheap sideboard in the corner. There were pools of blood here and there, but not under the table, where they belonged. And mixed in with the red was a glossy black, thanks to E's flesh wounds.
“But the vampire escaped before we got any information out of him!”
“Thanks for the recap.”
The two of them had just started working the male over when O went out on an assist. By the time he got back, E had lost control of the vampire, been sliced in a couple of places, and was all by his little lonesome bleeding in a corner.
That prick boss of theirs was going to be shit-wild, and even though O despised the man, he and Mr. X had one thing in common: Sloppiness was for crap.
O watched E dance around a little more, finding in the jerky movements the solution to both an immediate problem and a longer-term one. As O smiled, E, the fool, seemed relieved.
“Don't worry about a thing,” O murmured. “I'll tell him we took the body out and left it for the sun in the woods. No big deal.”
“You'll talk to him?”
“Sure, man. You'd better take off, though. He's going to be pissed.”
E nodded and bolted for the door. “Later.”
Yeah, say good-night, motherfucker , O thought as he started to clean up the basement.
The shitty little house they were working in was unremarkable from the street, sandwiched between a burned-out shell that had once been a barbecue restaurant and a condemned rooming house. This part of town, a mix of squalid residential and lowbrow commercial, was perfect for them. Around here, folks didn't go out after dark, gun pops were as common as car alarms, and nobody said nothing if someone let out a scream or two.
Also, coming and going from the site was easy. Thanks to the neighborhood hardies, all of the streetlights had been shot out and the ambient glow from other buildings was negligible. As an added benefit, the house had an exterior bulkhead entry into its basement. Carrying a fully loaded body bag in and out was no problem.
Although even if someone saw something, it would be the work of a moment to eliminate the exposure. No big surprise to the community, either. White trash had a way of finding their graves. Along with wife beating and beer sucking, dying was probably their only other core competency.
O picked up a knife and wiped E's black blood off the blade.
The basement was not big and the ceiling was low, but there was enough room for the old table they used as a workstation and the battered sideboard they kept their instruments on. Still, O didn't think it was the right facility. It was impossible to safely and securely store a vampire here, and this meant they lost an important tool of persuasion. Time wore down mental and physical faculties. If leveraged correctly, the passage of days was as powerful as anything you could break a bone with.
What O wanted was something out in the woods, something big enough so he could keep his captives over a period of time. As vampires went up in smoke with the dawn, they had to be kept protected from the sun. But if you just locked them in a room, you ran the risk of their dematerializing right out of your hands. He needed something steel to cage them...
Up above, the back door shut and footsteps came down the stairs.
Mr. X walked under a naked bulb.
The Fore-lesser was about six-four and built like a linebacker. As with all slayers who'd been in the Society for a long time, he'd paled out. His hair and skin were the color of flour, and his irises were as clear and colorless as window glass. Like O, he was dressed in standard-issue lesser gear: black cargo pants and a black turtleneck with weapons hidden under a leather jacket.
“So tell me, Mr. O, how goes your work?”
As if the chaos in the basement wasn't explanation enough.
“Am I in charge of this house?” O demanded.
Mr. X walked casually over to the sideboard and picked up a chisel. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“So am I permitted to ensure that this”—he moved his hand around the disorder—“doesn't happen again?”
“What did happen?”
“The details are boring. A civilian escaped.”
“Will it survive?”
“I don't know.”
“Were you here when it happened?”
“No.”
“Tell me everything.” Mr. X smiled as silence stretched out. “You know, Mr.