10
“Pull over here,” Bruno said.
“At the mall.”
“Here?” Alex Aaro scowled over his
shoulder at them. “You’re being pursued by hit men, and you want an
Egg McMuffin?”
Bruno exhaled through his teeth. He
bitterly regretted having called the guy. Aaro was not his friend,
nor even Kev’s friend. He was Kev’s brother Davy McCloud’s friend,
an old Army Rangers buddy. He’d helped them out in the zombie
masters debacle and gotten the shit blown out of his property in
the process, so he’d racked up pity points to offset his terminally
bad attitude. Plus, he’d helped the McCloud brothers and their
friends on other strange exploits, the tales of which were so
improbable, Bruno still couldn’t bring himself to believe them.
Nutzoid McClouds. They baffled him. But Kev fit right in, even
after an eighteenyear hiatus. Which, of course, only pissed Bruno
off all the more.
Yep, Aaro was resoundingly not his
friend, but that was what made this dickface the safest one to
call, if Lily was to be believed about the apocalyptic surveillance
bullshit. He had his doubts, but those attackers had been focused,
trained professionals. Not drug-addled street scum. It was weird
enough to make him very careful.
In spite of the explosions and the
pitched gun battle at his remote forest home, Aaro had, amazingly,
stayed out of the press. He kept a low profile, being freakishly
paranoid, the McClouds said.
And that meant something, coming from
those guys.
“We need clothes,” he said. “At the
Gresham outlet mall. We’re a mess.”
“Retail therapy for the stress?
What’ll it be, Victoria’s Secret?”
He was not rising to the bait.
“Clothes,” he said evenly. “Normal, warm winter clothes. I can’t
use my cards until I know what the fuck is going on, so you’ll have
to front me.”
Aaro swerved into the mall entrance.
“Let me get this straight. You call at the crack of dawn with a
story about bodies on the streets of Portland. You demand taxi
service, because out of nowhere, the whole world wants to kill you
and your schizo girlfriend, too.”
Lily bristled. “I am not
schizo!”
“And now we’re going for a shopping
spree at the mall, at my expense. Shall we get a latte and a ginger
current scone at the coffee bar? An acupuncture treatment? A
massage?”
Bruno stared at the guy. “I can’t drag
her up to Tony’s cabin in a miniskirt and heels. There might be
snow up there.”
“Bruno, he’s right. Stopping for
clothes would be silly,” Lily said. “Let’s just save that for when
we—”
“You’re spattered with blood!” he
yelled. “Your coat is canvas, with no lining! You don’t even have
any goddamn underwear!”
Lily jerked loose of his encircling
arm. “You bastard!” she hissed. “I do, too!”
“That thong you’re wearing does not
count,” Bruno retorted.
Aaro jerked to a stop and gave them a
knowing look. “Glad to hear the hit men haven’t cramped your sex
life any.”
“That was before!” he snarled back.
“The hit men came after!”
Aaro flinched, lifting his hands.
“Don’t give me the blow-byblow. God, look at me, in my sad celibate
state. Forced to buy hot lingerie for Bruno’s bare-assed
girlfriend.”
“Don’t bother,” Lily told him. “I’d
rather die than wear it.”
Aaro turned his sharp, narrow gaze on
her. “If death is what you wanted, your new fancy boy fucked that
up for you back at the diner. So what would make you feel like
living again? Culottes? Tap pants? Stretch lace? Red satin? Go
wild, honey. You like thongs?”
“Watch it, Aaro,” Bruno
said.
Aaro’s eyes flicked to Lily’s crotch.
It was hidden by the folds of her blood-tered canvas coat, but
Lily’s battered knees still snapped smartly together. “Oh, I do,”
he said. “Whenever I get the chance.”
She gave him a thin smile. “When hell
freezes over, buddy.”
“Ooh. Scary,” Aaro murmured. “You tell
her, man, because I’m way too intimidated to say it to her face,
but she should keep her panties on in these dangerous
times.”
“Up yours, asshole,” Lily
retorted.
Bruno put his finger over Lily’s
mouth. Anger had given her a nice rosy glow, which had to be a good
thing, up to a point. He held up his hand to forestall whatever
snide and hateful thing Aaro was opening his mouth to say. “You are
out of line, man,” he said quietly. “Shut up.”
Aaro’s mouth tightened. “I knew it,”
he said. “I knew, as soon as I saw who was calling, that this would
be another massive goatfuck with international implications. It
always is, with McClouds.”
“I’m not a McCloud. I share no genetic
material with those freaks!”
Aaro dismissed that with a wave of his
hand. “You might as well be. The curse rubs off on anyone they hang
out with. You’ve been exposed, so you’re already fucked. And so am
I.” He glanced at Lily, not without sympathy. “You too, from the
looks of things.”
“That’s stupid,” Bruno
muttered.
“Yeah? My home, my vehicle and my
privacy got bombed to rubble the last time I answered a phone call
from one of you clowns!”
“You were reimbursed in full! They
threw money at your head to make up for that! You have no reason to
feel sorry for yourself!”
“You can’t reimburse privacy,” Aaro
said darkly. “Doing favors for you guys is costly on a whole lot of
levels.”
“Look at it this way,” Bruno said.
“I’m a client, OK? Bill me by the hour. Name your fucking rate.
Save your receipts. I’m not asking any favors, so I won’t unleash
the curse. No favors, no curse. Simple.”
“Nothing’s simple about broken bodies
on the street.”
“I told you,” Bruno protested. “They
were trying to kill—”
“Yeah, I get the white knight thing,
but was it necessary to snuff the guys? Was your brain functioning
at all? You’ve got no idea who they were, what they want, or from
what direction they’ll come the next time.” His eyes cut to Lily.
“Or do you?”
She shook her head, her lips
tight.
“Great. So now, instead of having
somebody to interrogate, you’ve got a possible murder rap. What a
trade-off. Why didn’t you just beat the shit out of them? You, my
friend, have fucked up.”
Bruno bit back a snotty retort. He was
still afraid to think about the entity that had taken over his body
during that fight. And he didn’t want to get mired in explanations
and selfjustification. Waste of time and breath. There was nothing
he could say to Aaro that wouldn’t be whining, or excuse mongering.
He shook his head. Later for that.
“OK, then,” Aaro said sourly.
“Whatever. By the hour, up the ass, receipts itemized. What do you
want me to buy?”
“Sensible winter shoes.” Bruno turned
to Lily. “What’s your size?”
“Six, but seriously, I really don’t
want—”
“A big sweater for her, some drab
color. A wool knit cap. A winter coat. Down, with a hood. Black
nylon, something big and puffy. Jeans for both of us. I’m about
your size, for her . . .” He looked her over appraisingly. “Ten for
her. And get me a sweatshirt.”
She jumped. “Hey. That’s not
my—”
“Yeah, I know you’re more like an
eight, but I want them loose,” he snapped. “This is not about
showcasing your ass.”
“Speaking of her ass,” Aaro
interjected. “You haven’t told me how you want the underwear.” He
eyed her, chewing his lip.
Lily lunged for the door. “I’m done.
Have a nice life, gentlemen.”
Bruno caught her as she grabbed the
handle, and yanked her back. His arm locked around her, clamped
over her heaving ribcage.
“Let go of me,” she said. “Right
now.”
“I can’t,” he said. And it was the
literal truth.
Aaro made a disgusted sound. “You’re
cooked, buddy. Your judgment is deep-fried in testosterone. Not a
pretty sight.”
“Go earn your hourly fee and get out
of my face,” Bruno said.
The slam of the van door cut off a
string of obscenities, which then faded away into the
distance.
The silence in the van was punctuated
by Lily’s rapid breathing. The thrum of her pulse was too fast. She
was shorting out. Muscling her around probably wasn’t helping, but
he couldn’t stop. He was shaking, too. His heart banging just as
hard.
She pried at his wrist. Her hand was
icy cold. He covered it with his and opened his jacket, pulling her
back so she could soak up some skin-on-skin heat. The contact had
its predictable effect.
He tried to keep his lust locked up in
the privacy of his own head, but Lily could pluck horndog impulses
right out of the airwaves with the precision of a pair of surgical
tweezers. She shifted against him, moving uneasily against the
throbbing heaviness in his groin.
“Sorry,” he offered. “All that talk
about asses and underwear. I’m suggestible. Plus there’s the combat
buzz. Gets you every time.”
She scowled at him through tangles of
bright hair. “Just a physiological phenomenon? Nothing personal?
Gee, that’s so flattering.”
He started to laugh. She winced when
his hand tightened on her shoulder. He lifted it, angry at himself
for having forgotten the bruise.
He pushed her coat open and plucked
the shirt down. Oh, ouch. It was bruising already. He laid his hand
over it. No pressure, just warmth. “I’m sorry about this,” he said.
“I wish I had some ice for you.”
She started to shrug, thought better
of it. “I’m not sorry. If they’d hit your skull, you’d have gone
down, and we’d both be dead. Or worse.”
“There’s worse?” He smiled. “That’s a
positive way of looking at a big hematoma. You working on that
glass-half-full attitude?”
She snorted. “Hardly. Speaking of
attitudes. Aaro? Holy shit, Bruno. Where did you dig this guy up?
He’s horrible!”
“Sorry about that,” Bruno said
ruefully. “He was always sort of a clam, but today he’s totally on
the rag. Still, he has the resources that I need. And did you come
across his name from your research on me?”
“Nope,” she said. “Never heard of the
guy.”
“That means he was the right one to
call.”
They stared into each other’s eyes.
The energy buzzed, hot and strained. It was wrong, stupid,
irresponsible, but he leaned forward, breathing her in. Her lips
prted. Her eyes had a wild, misty glow.
He kissed her. The zing of contact
knocked the cage door wide open, and something big and muscular
came barreling out, snorting and pawing. Something that wanted what
it wanted and didn’t give a shit about doing the right thing. He
tugged down the tattered stretch lace of her shirt, pulling until
the points of her soft, perfect tits popped out. Took a whap to the
face. Barely noticed it, he was so intent on tasting her nipples.
Sweet and taut in his mouth. He flicked his tongue over the rigid
buds and suckled until her fingernails dug into his
jacket.
He pushed her leg up onto the seat,
shoved up the skirt. Didn’t have far to go. Sexy woman smell, mixed
with perfumed girly bath products. Her pussy glowed from their
exploits in Tony’s apartment. The gusset of the thong was lost in
her plump, juicy folds. She made a breathless sound as he plucked
the gusset away and took a long look at damp ringlets, her pussy
lips poking out like a hothouse flower.
“Stop this,” she said. “I thought you
wanted answers.”
“I thought I did, too,” he said. “Then
I looked under your skirt.”
He wooed her into another kiss for a
couple of honey-sweet, wet, sticky minutes, until she gathered her
wits and shoved at him again.
“Now is not the time, Bruno! If that
guy Aaro came back while we were involved, and saw us, I’d have to
kill myself just to save face!”
“How about I kill him, instead?” he
suggested. “We’ll just take his van, dump him, and run. What’s one
more body, more or less?”
Lily blinked at him for a few seconds.
“Um. You’re kidding, right?”
Aw, shit. He flung his head against
the seat and shut his eyes. So, he really was that terrifying. How
fucking depressing was that.
“Now is a really bad time to joke
about that stuff, Bruno.”
“Fine. I won’t kill him.” He brushed
his knuckle over the smudged mascara on her cheekbone. “Don’t be
scared of me. I’m not dangerous.”
“No? Three dead guys on the ground in
barely over a minute?”
He rocked back, jarred. That event had
nothing to do with the person he thought he was. A good fighter,
yes, but he approached martial arts more as a sport than anything
else. He wasn’t dangerous. He was the class clown, the smart-ass,
the charmer who would do anything for a laugh. Not a
killer.
But those guys were dead. He could
call it self-defense, but he hadn’t been thinking self-defense. He
hadn’t thought at all.
He’d just killed. So easily. Smoothly.
Like some part of him was used to it.
He stared at her lips, her tangle of
glossy hair. He tended to distract himself from uncomfortable
feelings as quickly and forcibly as possible. Sex was an awesome
distraction.
He tried to look harmless. “I’m not
dangerous to you,” he told her.
“Bullshit,” she whispered. “You could
destroy me.”
He winced. “Stop being so apocalyptic.
It bugs me.”
She giggled, which he took as a good
sign. “Can you blame me?”
He thudded down, off the seat, onto
the floor. So. Didn’t look like he was going to score. Not unless
he forced the issue, which would make the disconnect complete. The
old Bruno, the new Bruno. The Bruno who could slaughter three guys
was hard enough to integrate with his self-image. A Bruno who
forced a woman into sex . . . nah.God, it was hard,
though. He shoved Lily’s knees together, hard, and dropped his head
down to the tops of her thighs, pressing his hot cheek against the
grubby coat. The tryst in Tony’s apartment played in his head.
Every hot, silken clutch of her pussy around his aching prong,
burned forever into his memory. He ground his fists against his
eyes until kaleidoscopic sparks swirled and spun in his inner
vision.
Red like blood. Spattering Lily’s
coat. Trickling out of the mouth of the guy on the ground. Oozing
from the crushed skull of the other man.
So familiar. Fighting like a robot.
Losing control, being taken over. Like his Rudy dreams. Except that
the opponents had been real this time, and could die. Had died.
Broken and bleeding.
Lily’s hands came to rest on his head.
She bent over and laid her face against the back of his head. The
hot rhythm of her breath had transformed his scalp into an
erogenous zone. He endured it in a state of razor-edged sensual
overload. Pure heavenly bliss. Fucking torture.
Click. They jerked apart as the door slid
open. Aaro stuck his head in. “I saw that,” he
growled.
“Saw what?” Bruno asked,
defensive.
Aaro tossed assorted shopping bags
into the van. “You owe me three hundred and ninety bucks so far.”
He held out a paper food bag.
Bruno took it. “Oh. Ah,
thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. No favors means no
thanks.”
“Yeah, right.” Bruno dug for the
coffee.
“I thought you should get some
caffeine and sugar into her before her blood pressure went south.”
Aaro looked Lily over. “But she’s glowing. Looks like you’ve
successfully regulated her blood pressure in other, more
pleasurable ways.”
“Shut up, Aaro,” Bruno
growled.
“Just get this straight, loverboy. No
boinking in my van.”
“Fuck off,” Lily’s voice rang out. “We
didn’t do anything.”
“That would explain why his head was
in your lap.” Aaro reached into the bag, fished out coffee and held
it out. “Enjoy. You’re welcome.”
She stared at him for a moment. “I
don’t have to thank you, remember?” she said. “You’re not doing me
any favors.”
“True. I’m so crushed. Now drink some
coffee, dollface.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you just call
me dollface?”
“No.” Bruno snatched the cup out of
Aaro’s hand and passed it to her. “It was an aural hallucination.
Have your breakfast sandwich.”
“Yeah, ignore me.” Aaro pawed through
the bags until he found one with stenciled hearts on it. “By the
way, you never did tell me your size. Hope nothing binds or pinches
your tender pink places, babe.”
He let the bag fly. It landed on
Lily’s lap. She shrank back as if it were a venomous snake. It hit
the floor. Fuck-me-please panties spilled out. A tangle of satin,
lace, and silk. Red, black, peach, flesh-tone.
Bruno growled expletives in a
Calabrese dialect as he shoved underwear into the bag. It was his
standard tension reliever. None of the people he insulted knew he
was commenting on their grandmother’s predilection for sex with
sheep.
“I am not wearing that slutty,
disgusting stuff.” Lily’s voice was haughty. “Certainly not after
you’ve pawed it. Dog.”
“Arf, arf.” Aaro’s one was more
cheerful than it had been so far at any time this morning. “I love
it when she spits bile.”