He chuckled and pulled away, running a thumb under my eye. “I missed you, Reindeer. I wish we didn’t drift apart like that because of some lame ass jizz slurping fuck.”
“I missed you, too.” I took him in, counting the…changes. It was easier to count what hadn’t changed. I felt like I was looking at a different person, even his eyes looked different. “I hate this.”
“What?”
I fisted his hair. “This.” Then I slapped a fanged monster on his full sleeve. “And this.”
He made a silly face, and my eyes roamed the room. His old, huge, four-poster vintage bed sat in the middle, leather and denim strewn all over it, the frame more gray than white now. The two side tables on either side suffered the same destiny and carried full ashtrays and beer glasses for decorations.
Across the windows, a flat screen hung on the wall. Under it were some game console gear and more beer bottles.
Next to the wardrobe on the left side, I spied the old dressing table in the corner. It used to have an array of colognes and hair products. The drawer had a nice collection of watches. Now, another ashtray sat on top along with an ugly brush and a black helmet. I bet, since Malcolm wasn’t even wearing a watch, if I opened the drawer, I’d probably find a stash of weed. Or a gun.
Yet, overall, the room hadn’t changed that much. “I see this man cave is the only survivor of the Demons’ drastic renovations.”
“And we’re back to that.”
“Of course, we’re back to that. You didn’t tell me about Russell so you wouldn’t hurt me. But what about this? You sold half of the house we both owned without even telling me. If you needed money, got into some gambling debt—”
“Again with your condescending crap. I didn’t sell the house because I was a gambler or a junkie or any nasty scenarios you have in mind. I sold it because the Blood Demons are my family now, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think you cared about the house anymore.”
I blinked, stunned. His words stung like heavy slaps on my cold face. “Just because I left doesn’t mean I didn’t care. I did. I still do. About the house. About you.Youare my family, Malcolm.”
He just stood there, staring back at me with vacant eyes.
“You’ve changed so much that I barely recognize you, and it’s not just the looks. Your words, your hug, the heat coming from your body, everything is different. It feels like…like something has ripped your soul out of you.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you, Sis. I just… All you need to know is that I’m still me, and I love you more than anything in the world.”
“If that’s true, could you please stop acting like I’m some coldhearted bitch and tell me, your real family, your blood, what the hell happened to you?”
His eyes pierced me. Then he swallowed. “Maybe if you stick around long enough.”
“I will.”
He tilted his head as if I wasn’t convincing enough. “What if you didn’t get the job? You wouldn’t just pack and run to your old life like nothing happened?”
I stared at him for a moment, my tongue paralyzed, before a knock on the door saved me.
Malcolm’s hand fell on the knob, and Terror’s head popped in. “We gotta go. We got intel on Venom.”
My brother nodded once. Then he turned his head toward me. “I’ll tell them to change the sheets and bring you something to eat. Then you lock the door and don’t come out of this room until I come back.”
“What? Malcolm, I will not be a prisoner in my own—”
“It’s not a request. And the name is Dasher.” He slammed the door shut behind him.
CHAPTER 11
TERROR
“We found one that’s still alive near Washington,” I said as soon as we were out of the human’s hearing range. “Mad Dog and Inferno have him for now, waiting for us. Slasher is already on his bike.”
Dasher unlocked Church. “Venom’s work?”
I nodded. “The boy has the V mark on his neck, hallucinating his maker’s name.”
“Boy?”
