The Beast
Page 82
“Sit, Ehric. I shall endive to service you prior to our retirement.”
Assail rolled his eyes. “Endive is a vegetable. ‘Endeavor’ is the word for which you search. And it is serve. Unless you wish to refer to your previous ‘endives’ this eve?”
Leaving the pair of them to do whate’er they would calorically speaking, Assail proceeded onward to his office. As he took a seat behind his desk, he adjusted his cocaine levels first, and then fired up his computer whilst he placed a call upon his cellular device.
The Brother Vishous answered with, “It’s official. I do talk to you more than I talk to my mother. Don’t get excited, though, I can’t stand her.”
“With your warm personality and pleasant demeanor, I cannot fathom any kind of estrangement in your life.”
“You don’t have to jerk me off with the compliments.”
“Speaking of such, may I just say that Naasha is a rather pneumatic little female with a taste for exhibition and an all-access policy that does not refer to her hellren’s venerable landholdings.” After all, when he had tried to leave the dungeon and do a little exploring, she had sent a naked female after him—within moments. “My cousins are happy, if exhausted males, going into daybreak.”
“So apart from the fucking, what do you know?”
“Throe is ensconced in the household. He has a room and her affection. He stated to me that he is estranged from Xcor and the Band of Bastards, ne’er to return unto their questionable fold.” He had to sniff as his nose ran. “There is something worrisome about that male. I do not trust him.”
“When do you go back?”
“She has invited me unto her hellren’s epic birthnight celebration. Has the invitation come through to Wrath the now?” He sniffed again, and brushed at the base of his nostrils. “I believe she is intending to present such soon, if it has not already arrived.”
There was a shhhh-cht and an exhale, as if the Brother were lighting up something. “Not yet. But we’ll be waiting. He has no intention of going, but members of the Brotherhood will be there for sure.”
“As shall my cousins and I.” Assail frowned as something occurred to him. “Pardon me for going a bit off topic, but please allow me to inquire about your armaments.”
There was a long pause. And then the Brother’s voice, which was already low, bottomed out completely. “What do you want to know.”
“Are you in need of any?”
“Why.”
“I have contacts with my black market suppliers that could facilitate such purchases.”
“Now you want to be an arms dealer? Have your ambitions always pointed you toward lofty pursuits?”
“There is naught lofty about graves, is there? At any rate, consider the offer extended. They contacted me for further business and I declined their kind and generous offer with respect to certain powders and potions. But it did get me thinking that there could still be some exchange of money for goods that Wrath would permit me to engineer.”
Vishous laughed in a deep purr. “Always looking for an angle. And will you stop with the coke? You’ve been sniffing through this conversation like a human in a hayfield.”
“I remain loyal to you and your King,” Assail concluded. “Contact me as you wish. If I hear anything further or have any further contact with her before next week, I shall call you immediately.”
“You do that, true.”
Assail ended the call and—
Recoiling, he looked down at the back of his hand. There was a streak of bright red blood across the flesh . . . and droplets upon the white of his starched formal shirt.
Getting to his feet, he went into the nearest bathroom out in the hall and flipped on the light.
“Damn it . . .”
His nose was leaking all over the place.
After cranking the water on, he took a hand towel that he had washed and folded the day before and put the thing under the cool rush. Then he wiped away the blood that was streaming out of his nostrils before applying the cold compress in a pinch and tilting his head back.
He was rather some time with that, all the while standing before the mirror and brushing at the stains on the fine cotton of his shirt. OxiClean, he decided. He would start there, as blood had protein in it. Then he would resort to bleach before throwing the fucking thing out if he had to.
When the exsanguination had been extinguished, he took the towel with him and proceeded to the kitchen.
Whereupon he found his patent-leather shoes faltering.
It was the smell in the air. Rich and spicy, yet delicate as well, the combination of spices exotic to his Old Country palate called out to his stomach, making the thing growl.
Portuguese food. Which had been prepared by an authentic, loving, if slightly belligerent, hand.
He closed his eyes. Marisol’s grandmother had prepared he and his cousins many foods prior to her departure and those two had clearly availed themselves of said carefully packaged and frozen entrée packs.
“Would you care to join us?” Evale said as he waited at the microwave. “Or are you just going to stand there in a lure.”
Assail shook himself. “I believe the word you are thinking of is leer.”
“Have you seen your face?” the male asked as there was a bing! After popping open the front, he carried a heaping plate of his own to the table. “Hardly welcoming are you.”
“Which is the definition of ‘leer.’ And you should not eat that.”
Assail rolled his eyes. “Endive is a vegetable. ‘Endeavor’ is the word for which you search. And it is serve. Unless you wish to refer to your previous ‘endives’ this eve?”
Leaving the pair of them to do whate’er they would calorically speaking, Assail proceeded onward to his office. As he took a seat behind his desk, he adjusted his cocaine levels first, and then fired up his computer whilst he placed a call upon his cellular device.
The Brother Vishous answered with, “It’s official. I do talk to you more than I talk to my mother. Don’t get excited, though, I can’t stand her.”
“With your warm personality and pleasant demeanor, I cannot fathom any kind of estrangement in your life.”
“You don’t have to jerk me off with the compliments.”
“Speaking of such, may I just say that Naasha is a rather pneumatic little female with a taste for exhibition and an all-access policy that does not refer to her hellren’s venerable landholdings.” After all, when he had tried to leave the dungeon and do a little exploring, she had sent a naked female after him—within moments. “My cousins are happy, if exhausted males, going into daybreak.”
“So apart from the fucking, what do you know?”
“Throe is ensconced in the household. He has a room and her affection. He stated to me that he is estranged from Xcor and the Band of Bastards, ne’er to return unto their questionable fold.” He had to sniff as his nose ran. “There is something worrisome about that male. I do not trust him.”
“When do you go back?”
“She has invited me unto her hellren’s epic birthnight celebration. Has the invitation come through to Wrath the now?” He sniffed again, and brushed at the base of his nostrils. “I believe she is intending to present such soon, if it has not already arrived.”
There was a shhhh-cht and an exhale, as if the Brother were lighting up something. “Not yet. But we’ll be waiting. He has no intention of going, but members of the Brotherhood will be there for sure.”
“As shall my cousins and I.” Assail frowned as something occurred to him. “Pardon me for going a bit off topic, but please allow me to inquire about your armaments.”
There was a long pause. And then the Brother’s voice, which was already low, bottomed out completely. “What do you want to know.”
“Are you in need of any?”
“Why.”
“I have contacts with my black market suppliers that could facilitate such purchases.”
“Now you want to be an arms dealer? Have your ambitions always pointed you toward lofty pursuits?”
“There is naught lofty about graves, is there? At any rate, consider the offer extended. They contacted me for further business and I declined their kind and generous offer with respect to certain powders and potions. But it did get me thinking that there could still be some exchange of money for goods that Wrath would permit me to engineer.”
Vishous laughed in a deep purr. “Always looking for an angle. And will you stop with the coke? You’ve been sniffing through this conversation like a human in a hayfield.”
“I remain loyal to you and your King,” Assail concluded. “Contact me as you wish. If I hear anything further or have any further contact with her before next week, I shall call you immediately.”
“You do that, true.”
Assail ended the call and—
Recoiling, he looked down at the back of his hand. There was a streak of bright red blood across the flesh . . . and droplets upon the white of his starched formal shirt.
Getting to his feet, he went into the nearest bathroom out in the hall and flipped on the light.
“Damn it . . .”
His nose was leaking all over the place.
After cranking the water on, he took a hand towel that he had washed and folded the day before and put the thing under the cool rush. Then he wiped away the blood that was streaming out of his nostrils before applying the cold compress in a pinch and tilting his head back.
He was rather some time with that, all the while standing before the mirror and brushing at the stains on the fine cotton of his shirt. OxiClean, he decided. He would start there, as blood had protein in it. Then he would resort to bleach before throwing the fucking thing out if he had to.
When the exsanguination had been extinguished, he took the towel with him and proceeded to the kitchen.
Whereupon he found his patent-leather shoes faltering.
It was the smell in the air. Rich and spicy, yet delicate as well, the combination of spices exotic to his Old Country palate called out to his stomach, making the thing growl.
Portuguese food. Which had been prepared by an authentic, loving, if slightly belligerent, hand.
He closed his eyes. Marisol’s grandmother had prepared he and his cousins many foods prior to her departure and those two had clearly availed themselves of said carefully packaged and frozen entrée packs.
“Would you care to join us?” Evale said as he waited at the microwave. “Or are you just going to stand there in a lure.”
Assail shook himself. “I believe the word you are thinking of is leer.”
“Have you seen your face?” the male asked as there was a bing! After popping open the front, he carried a heaping plate of his own to the table. “Hardly welcoming are you.”
“Which is the definition of ‘leer.’ And you should not eat that.”
