Foxx nodded. “Any qualms about shooting someone in their sleep? As with the amount of drugs they’ve likely taken, I wouldn’t be shocked if some are passed out.”
His brow rose at the question. “I have little to no conscience, so…”
“Right, the whole psychopath thing.”
“I will say it’s not as fun.”
The vampire sighed. “It really isn’t as fun. But I mean…they are high and I am tired, so boring will just have to cut it today.”
Harlow shrugged. Not much else to be said. Despite the teasing he was managing, he was exhausted. Harlow might have built up a tolerance to functioning without sleep, but the months off had sort of fucked with that. So, he currently had a massive skull-throbbing headache. He was thirsty too, but that was a constant.
“Let’s go,” he grunted.
Leading the way upstairs, they found the three werewolves passed out on the floor of what looked to be a rec room.
Harlow stared down at them in disgust. Aiming his gun at the one on the right, Foxx aimed his two at the left and middle wolf.
Harlow shook his head. “It’s just…stupid.”
“Mmhmm,” Foxx hummed.
At once they both fired. Three dead in an instant, not a single one had even woken up.
He reached into his jacket and returned his gun to his chest holster, before digging into an inner pocket and pulling out a small white drawstring bag. Opening it, he tossed some of the contents on the three dead wolves. The silver powder began to smoke upon hitting the wolves.
“Let’s go take care of the last one before this ignites, shall we?”
“You couldn’t have waited until we finished?” Foxx asked as he slipped his guns back into his chest holster.
He shrugged. “Saves us a trip back up the stairs.”
“Ahh, sorry, I wasn’t thinking of your knees. At your age, I’m sure the less stairs used the better.”
“I am not that old,” he grunted. Though, some days…a few old injuries did like to flare up nicely, making him feel ‘that’ old. Not that Harlow would admit that. “Let’s go.” He spun on his heel and headed to the stairs.
Foxx giggled, but didn’t say anything as he followed him back down. Harlow tossed some of the silver on the bodies as he passed, and then followed the banging noise. They soon realized the noise was not coming from inside the house but just outside it, from a storm cellar.
“I smell a lot of blood,” Foxx said as they stepped outside. “I mean, I smelled it as we got closer, but it wasn’t really that strong in the house. I could tell they all killed a few people recently, but…yeah.”
“I didn’t see any blood in the house, besides…you know from those we killed. Could this be a human they locked up?” Harlow asked, right as the storm cellar doors bulged, a huge dent bowing outwards.
“Nope… No human could do that. Also, the heartbeat says werewolf.”
Yep, the door was metal and looked a bit too thick for any human to cause it to dent like that. When Foxx drew closer to the door, he said, “I’m going to shoot out the lock, so back up.”
The bangs against the door seemed to become more violent then.
“I could just break it but…do what you want.”
Harlow lifted a brow at him. “Do you want to break the lock?”
Foxx backed up and waved him on. “No, just do it.”
He smirked. Even with his head still throbbing, he couldn’t help but tease just a bit more. “If you want to break it, you can break it. I don’t care.”
“Old man, just shoot out the lock!”
“I’m just saying, if you want—”
