Lover Unleashed - J. R. Ward [130]
It made Xcor positively weep every time he thought about it.
“You will write to them.” Xcor smiled again, his fangs tingling, his cock doing likewise. “You will write to all of them and you will announce our arrival. You will point out their losses, reminding them of the young and the females that were cut down that summer night. You will recall to their minds all the audiences they have not had with their king. You will express the proper outrage on their behalf and you will do it in a way they will understand—because you were once one of them. And then we shall wait . . . to be summoned.”
Throe bowed. “Aye, my leahdyre.”
“In the meantime, we shall hunt for lessers and keep a tally of our killings. So that when they ask after our health and well-being, which the aristocracy is wont to do, we can inform them that although prime-bred horses are pretty in the stables . . . a pack of wolves is what you want guarding your back door.”
The glymera were worthless on so many levels, but they were as predictable as a pocket watch; self-preservation was what made their hands, big and small, go ’round and ’round . . . and ’round once more.
“Best go get your rest,” Xcor drawled. “Or are you already on the hunt for one of your diversions.” When there was no answer, he frowned at the reply hidden within the lack of response. “You have a purpose above and beyond what passed our fighting hours previously. The human dead are of far less concern than the living enemy of ours.”
“Aye.”
Read: Nay.
“Do not tarry in other pursuits to the disadvantage of our goals.”
“Have I ever let you down?”
“There is still time, old friend.” Xcor stared at the male from beneath half-masted lids. “There is always time for your bleeding-heart nature to get you into trouble. And lest you disagree, may I remind you of the circumstances you have found yourself in for the last two centuries.”
Throe stiffened. “No. You need not. I am perfectly aware of where I am.”
“Good.” Xcor nodded. “That is rather important in this life. Carry on.”
Throe bowed. “I bid you good sleep, my leahdyre.”
Xcor watched the male depart, and as he found himself alone once again, the burning in his body annoyed him. Sexual need was such a waste of time, for it neither killed nor nourished, but on a regular basis, his cock and balls needed something other than a rough tugging session.
When darkness fell this coming night, Throe was going to have one other thing to procure for the band of bastards, and this time, Xcor was going to be forced to have his fill of it.
And they were going to need blood, as well. Preferably not human, but if they had to make do for now?
Well, they’d just have to get rid of the bodies, wouldn’t they.
THIRTY-FOUR
Back in the training center, Manny woke up on the hospital bed, not in the chair. After a momentary confusion, hazy memories brought it all back: After the butler had shown up with the food, Manny had eaten in the office, as Jane had told him to do—and that, as opposed to inside his car, was where he’d found his cell phone, wallet, keys, and briefcase. The little collection of Manellomentos had been right out in full view, just sitting on a chair, and the lack of security surprised him, given how locked-down everything else was.
Except then he’d turned his cell phone on and found that the SIM card was gone.
And he’d been willing to bet that he’d need an atomic bomb to get into or out of the garage without their permission. So his keys were immaterial.
Briefcase? Nothing but a PowerBar and some paperwork that had absolutely nothing to do with underground facilities, vampires, or Payne.
Guess all the why-bother explained the out-in-the-open.
He’d been ready to throw in the proverbial towel when it came to checking his voice mail, but then he’d taken a flyer and reached for the AT&T office phone at his elbow. Picking up the receiver, he’d hit 9 . . . and the dial tone had been a total shocker. Although, really, what were the chances