Except as he went for the weapons cabinet inside his closet, his eyes latched onto the black satin robe Bella had worn so often. Days ago, he'd thrown it in the trash in the bathroom, but Fritz had obviously picked it out and hung it back up. Z leaned forward and touched the thing, then took it off the hanger, draped it over his arm, and stroked the smooth cloth. He brought it to his nose and breathed deep, catching both her scent and the smell of his bonding for her.
He was about to put the thing back when he caught sight of something flashing as it fell onto the floor at his feet. He bent down. Bella's little necklace. Left behind.
He fingered the fragile chain for a while, just watching the diamonds sparkle; then he put it on and got out his weapons. As he stepped back into the bedroom he meant to leave right away, but his eyes caught sight of the Mistress's skull sitting next to his pallet.
Crossing the room, he knelt in front of the thing and stared into the eye sockets.
A moment later he went to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and headed back for the skull. Draping the thing in terry cloth, he picked it up and moved fast, racewalking and then jogging down the hall of statues. He took the grand staircase to the first floor, cut through the dining room and the butler's pantry, then crossed the kitchen.
The basement stairs were way in the back, and he didn't turn the light on as he took them downward. As he descended, the roaring sound of the mansion's old-fashioned coal-burning furnace got louder.
Approaching the great iron beast he felt its warmth, as if the thing were alive and fevered. He leaned down and looked through the little glass window in the hutch. Orange flames licked and gnawed at the coal they'd been given, always hungry for more food. He flipped the latch, opened the door, and got a blast in the face. Without hesitating he tossed the skull in with the towel.
He didn't wait around to watch it burn, just turned and headed back upstairs.
When he got to the foyer he paused, then walked up to the second floor. At the head of the stairs he took a right, went down the hall, and knocked on one of the doors.
Rhage opened the thing, a towel around his waist. He seemed surprised to see who it was. "Hey, my brother."
"Can I talk to Mary for a minute?"
Hollywood frowned, but said over his shoulder, "Mary, Z wants to see you."
Mary was pulling a silk dressing gown closed and tying it with a sash as she came to the door. "Hi."
"You mind if I do this in private?" Z said, glancing at Rhage.
As the brother's eyebrows got real low, Z thought, Yeah, bonded males didn't like their females alone with anyone else. Especially not him.
He rubbed his skull trim. "It'll just be here in the hall. Won't take long."
Mary stepped between them and nudged her hellren back into the room. "It's all right, Rhage. Go finish getting the tub ready."
Rhage's eyes flashed white as his beast checked in with its own bonded reaction. There was a weighty pause; then Mary was kissed soundly on the throat and the door shut.
"What is it?" she asked. Z could smell her fear of him, but she met him in the eye.
He always had liked her, he thought. "I heard you taught autistic kids."
"Ah... yes, I did."
"Were they slow at learning things?"
She frowned. "Well, yes. Sometimes."
"Did that..." He cleared his throat. "Did that get on your nerves? I mean, did you get frustrated with them?"
"No. If I got disappointed at all, it was with myself for not figuring out the way they needed to learn."
While he nodded, he had to look away from her gray eyes. He focused on the door panel next to her head.
"Why do you ask, Zsadist?"
He took a deep breath and then threw himself off a ledge. When he was finished speaking, he risked a glance at her.
Her hand was over her mouth and her eyes were so kind they were like sunlight on him. "Oh, Zsadist, yes... Yes, I will."
Phury shook his head as he got into the Escalade. "It has to be ZeroSum."
He so needed to go there tonight.
"Figured as much," V said as he slid behind the wheel and Butch hopped in the back.
As they made the trip into town, the three of them were totally silent. Not even music was banging in the car.
So much death, so much loss, Phury thought. Wellsie. That young female, Sarelle, whose body V had returned to her parents.
And Tohr's disappearance was like a death, too. So was Bella's.
The agony of it all made him think about Z. He wanted to believe that Zsadist was on the road to some kind of recovery or something. But the idea that that male could turn himself around was completely baseless. It was only a matter of time before the brother's need for pain came back and shit started to unravel again.
Phury rubbed his face. He felt a thousand years old tonight, he really did, but he was also wired and twitchy... traumatized on the inside, though his skin had healed. He just could not keep it together. He needed help.
Twenty minutes later, Vishous pulled up to the back of ZeroSum and parked the SUV illegally. The bouncers let them in right away, and the three of them went for the VIP section. Phury ordered a martini, and when it came he finished it in one long swallow.
Help. He needed help. He needed double-barreled help... or he was going to explode.
" 'Scuse me, boys," he murmured. He headed for the back, for the Reverend's office. The two huge Moors nodded to him, and one spoke into his watch. A second later they let him through.
Phury walked into the cave and focused on the Reverend. The male was sitting behind his desk dressed in a pristine pinstriped suit, more businessman than pusher.
The Reverend smirked a little. "Where the hell is all that beautiful hair?"
Phury glanced behind himself, to make sure the outside door was closed. Then he took out three Benjis. "I want some H."
The Reverend's violet eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"
"Heroin."
"You sure about that?"
No, Phury thought. "Yes," he said.
The Reverend ran his hand back and forth over his cropped mohawk. Then he leaned forward and pressed a button on his intercom.
"Rally, I want three hundred worth of Queen up here. Make sure it's fine-granule." The Reverend eased back in his chair. "Straight up, I don't think you should take that kind of powder home with you. You don't need that shit."
"Not that I'd take any direction from you, but you told me I should go hard-core."
"I retract that comment."
"I thought symphaths didn't have a conscience."
"I'm half my mother's boy, too. So I have a little."
"Aren't you lucky."
The Reverend's chin dipped down, and his eyes flashed pure, purple evil for a split second. Then he smiled. "No... all the rest of you are fortunate."
Rally arrived moments later, and the transaction didn't take long. The folded packet fit neatly in Phury's inside breast pocket.
As he was leaving the Reverend said, "That stuff is very pure. Dead pure. You can sprinkle it in your blunt or melt it and shoot up. But a word of advice. It will be safer for you to smoke it. You'll have more control over the dose."
"So familiar with your products."
"Oh, I never use any of this toxic waste. It'll kill ya. But I hear from folks about what works. And what'll give you a toe tag."
The reality of what he was doing shimmered across Phury's skin on a nasty little tickle. But by the time he got back to the Brotherhood's table he couldn't wait to go home. He wanted to numb out completely. He wanted the deep nod that he'd heard heroin gave. And he knew he'd bought enough of the drug to take him to heavenly hell a couple of times.
"What's the matter with you?" Butch asked him. "You can't sit still tonight."
"Nothing doing." As he put his hand inside his pocket and felt for what he'd bought, he started tapping his foot under the table.
I am a junkie, he realized.
Except he didn't have enough left in him to care. Death was everywhere around him, the stench of sorrow and failure polluting the air he breathed. He needed off the crazy train for a little while, even if it meant getting on another kind of sick ride.
Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, Butch and V didn't last long at the club, and they were all home a little after midnight. As they walked into the vestibule Phury was cracking his knuckles, a flush breaking out under his clothes. He couldn't wait to be alone.
"You wanna eat?" Vishous said, yawning.