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"Okay, okay! Robert. I'm Robert. Jesus, what the crap are you on?" He squirmed but I gave a little squeeze to his windpipe and he immediately froze.
"Get this straight. Nothing about me is of any concern to you. The only thing that matters is what you were doing with that girl. Tell me, freak, what were you going to do to her? And don't say you were giving her a tour of the city. I'm in no mood for idiots." I flashed a sideways glance at Iris. She was comforting the girl.
He let out a strangled gulp and said, "None of your business, bitch."
"Ten, nine, eight…" I gave another squeeze, careful to avoid crushing his trachea. "You know, it's cold out, and I've had a bad day. Maybe you'd better talk faster."
"Jesus, let go! Let go!" He seemed to get the message that I held all the cards because he slumped in my grip. "Okay, okay! We were taking her to a party."
My boy was starting to turn blue. I eased up just a tad on his larynx.
"They were trying to rape me," the girl said, sniffling. She stepped out of the shadows and I could see that she was dressed in skintight jeans, a blouse, and a leather jacket over the top of that. Poor kid looked tired and cold. "They told me they'd take me to a party where I could get some sleep and something to eat, but instead, they brought me here…"
"Where did you meet them?" I asked her, while motioning to Iris. "Search him, would you?"
"At… at the bus station," the girl whispered. "I just got into town. I don't have any place to stay. I was trying to find a spot at the station where I could hide out and take a nap when these guys found me. They had a girl with them, and they all asked me if I wanted to go with them to a party. They said there would be food there and a place I could sleep. When we got outside, the girl disappeared and these guys… they brought me here."
An old story, even back in Otherworld. I pointed to a step leading into one of the businesses on the bottom floor of the Whitmore Building and said, "Sit down for a minute. You're safe for now."
Iris finished patting Robert down and held up a nasty-looking gun. I knew that iron didn't affect her but it would burn my hands. Not all of the Fae were affected by the metal, but some of us—even half-breeds—definitely held no love for it, cast iron, especially. I let go and watched as Robert tumbled to the ground.
"Stay put or you're dead," I said, taking the gun from Iris. My hand sparked on contact, but the fact that I was a vampire helped rather than hindered me. I couldn't feel the pain as the iron burned my skin. And ever since I'd made the transformation to vamp, I tended to heal from most wounds within minutes or hours. Too bad the wounds that Dredge had inflicted on me hadn't been able to heal up before I died, but he'd killed me too quickly afterward.
Pointing the gun at Robert, I said, "Nice, huh? You like to play with guns, do you?"
His eyes grew wide and I gave him a slow smile. Oh yes, this could be quite the fun little game. He scrambled away, pressing his back against the wall. "Don't shoot me, don't hurt me, lady! I'm sorry. Just let us go and—"
"Shut up and sit still." I opened the chamber and shook the bullets out into my hand. Then I put my hand around the long barrel of the gun and held it up where Robert could see nice and clear. Slowly I bent the barrel back on itself. "There, that's much better. Now this can go back to doing what iron does best—rusting."
Robert trembled as I showed him the bullets before squeezing them into crumpled bits of slag. I tossed them down the sewer grate next to where he was sitting. The gun followed as I bent the bars on the grating just enough to slip it through, then bent them back.
I leaned over him. "You shouldn't play with toys that go boom," I said, trailing one finger down his cheek, my nail scratching the skin ever so slightly. "You might hurt somebody. You might even kill someone."
The terror in his eyes mirrored the scent of fear on his skin and I let out a little gasp as a wave of desire raced through me.
"Tell me, Robert, what were you going to do to the girl? Just what kind of party did you have planned for her?" As I felt the pounding tattoo of his heart, my hunger began to grow, deep and coiling out from the dark swirl of bloodlust that had been part of my nature since Dredge forced my mouth to his wrist as I was breathing my last.
I yanked Robert to his feet and slammed him against the wall. "And don't even think of lying to me. I'll know if you do. Let one false word slip through those lips and it's good night, my friend." I was stretching the truth there a bit—I wasn't really a magical lie detector—but he wouldn't know that. He was so nervous already that he was ready to piss his pants. His pheromones were hopping like jumping beans.
He cleared his throat. "All right, all right! You know what we were going to do—"
"No. I want you to say it. I want you to admit it."
"Fine, bitch," he said. "You want to know? You want to watch, maybe? We were going to fuck her brains out, then put her to work."
"You're a two-bit pimp, aren't you?" I had nothing against hookers, but I hated pimps with a passion. They were nothing but extortionists. "So you were going to rape her, then sell her on the streets. And that would put a stop to any hope she ever had for a normal life."
"He's also a drug dealer," Iris said, holding up a bag full of tablets that were half black, half white. "Z-fen. The newest drug in town. Used by ravers, date rape gurus, and sex addicts. Reduces inhibitions, causes blackouts. A lot more dangerous than Ecstasy ever was. Addictive and an overdose disaster waiting to happen."
I narrowed my eyes. "How on earth did you find out about that?"
She shrugged. "Saw a program about them on Night Talk with Carly Ivers not long ago. Apparently they're chewable and taste like mint. Makes it easier for the dealers to get kids hooked that way."
I let out a harsh laugh. "Robert, Robert… what am I going to do with you and your friend? I'll bet you make a habit of convincing runaways that you'll protect them, don't you? After you con your marks into going to yaw parties, you get them high and let your buddies play fuck-and-suck?"
His eyes told me everything I didn't want to know.
"The kids won't fight because they're drugged," I continued. "Then it's easy for you put them on the streets, sit back, and collect their money, providing enough drugs to keep them addicted. They keep working. You beat them if they try to run away. You use them when you're horny." I'd seen his kind all too often during the night, when I prowled looking for dinner. The seamy underside to a beautiful city.
