Page 49 of Natural-Born Cullers

“Do you need time to consider our proposal?” Brennan said gently, and Gray shook his head.

“No. You have my verbal agreement. Always.” Gray meant that. “But if the contract is open to negotiation, for damages done, I’d like to retain my Master Dom pay scale.” Money really wasn’t the issue here.

Brennan cocked a smile. “The contract is non-negotiable, but I’ll discuss your proposal with my colleagues and allow a monthly donation to Doctor Halliday’s department and Jack’s sleeper payment on your behalf, along with the hefty fine I’ll also put in place.”

Yeah, they knew he’d fucked up, and that was Gray’s sorry. He wouldn’t take extra payment from them. “Thank you.”

He turned to leave.

“Gray, my last question.”

Gray stopped and looked back at Halliday. “Your last… question?”

Chapter 15

The Question

In the MC conference room, Halliday pushed to his feet and came over to Gray. “I had two, remember? Am I still okay to ask the second in order to give my final consent on you walking these halls?”

Gray frowned. “I thought we were beyond a Q-and-A session?”

“We are.” Halliday offered a smile. “This is overt observational study.” He looked back to Mistress Lucy. “Would you fetch it for me, please?”

Not looking happy as she flicked a look at Brennan, Lucy then gave a curt nod and got to her feet. A moment later, she came back carrying a slim black case. After Lucy removed the lid, Halliday withdrew something from inside.

Nine inches overall with a five-inch, black finish stainless double edge, the dagger Halliday held was nondescript other than its black dagger blade. It looked almost obsidian in colour, darker than Martin’s hair.

“Now that… that’s living dangerously, Doc.” Martin eased off the table. “You do know some bones are never meant to be thrown to the dog, right?”

“It’s not for Gray.”

The dagger shifted in Martin’s direction.

Gray’s breathing completely levelled out, and Martin cocked his head, all play dropped.

“Thom’s Catastrophe Theory, or a version of,” said Halliday. The dagger didn’t waver in his hand as he addressed Gray. “You spoke about that. Since Jack the Ripper and the Thames Torso murderer, the Queen’s dog soldier—you—brings social calm through short brutal chaos. The Ripper being one of the Monarchy’s first psychopaths to enforce stability, but not their last.”

Halliday hadreallydone his homework.

With the dagger offered in his direction, Martin made his way over, his look on Gray.

“A walk down your path with you,” Halliday said gently to Gray. “Life by your rules, your way, with your kind of people.” He fell quiet for a moment. “Same question as before, though, Gray. You have a high-functioning natural-born intelligence that shows you can reason there are multiple pathways that steer you clear from walking blindly down your mark’s path, but that is when sense is playing around you.” As Martin stopped by them, Halliday tilted his head slightly, the knife inches from Martin’s chest. “But put you in the heat, take away the sense, turn your head as a natural-born culler, can the MC really trust any decision you make here for them, or would you still take them down in the heat as you almost did with Jack, Martin, and Jan?”

Brennan looked away. There was no malicious intent here from Halliday, just the specialist knowledge to speak duo-lingual with Gray, to talk to both the reason and the madness. And this last assessment, this was Halliday’s, autonomous from any agreement by Brennan and the MC with how Brennan shook his head. They would never agree to this. Jack’s named-nurse, Craig, would never agree to exploiting Jack or Martin like this. Halliday certainly wouldn’t, but this wasn’t an ordinary assessment. In order to assess Gray’s rule of the land, Halliday playedbyGray’s rules of the land.

“Martin?” Halliday offered the dagger over.

Martin looked down at it, then to Gray, then over to Halliday. “Well, fuck me, Doc.” A smile spread across his lips. “I think you just levelled-up to trulyfuck meboss levels.”

Ignoring the dagger, he shifted and rested an elbow on Halliday’s shoulder, his look on Gray. “Tell me what you’re thinking here, Doc. Please? I mean, I know how this is going to go, how he’ll react in a few moments, but from one expert on reading people to another, can you really guess what’s going through his head here? Wouldn’t you just love to peel that skull back and clamber inside, have a mess around—see what he really gets up to when he’s alone in the heat there? Because I know you too, Doc.” Martin patted his shoulder. “You want to get him alone in a padded room, just watch how his body kicks and twists against your captivity in his own… unique… way. It’s what gets you hard of a night, right? All that dominance of intellect over the raw natural-born killer instinct. Your clash of will against his?” A chuckle. “You’d lose, Doc. Trust me, you really, really would. Mostly because at the moment, you don’t even register I’m talking to you now, do you? You’re completely gone, mate.”

Halliday kept quiet, his look purely on Gray despite Martin breathing so close to the dagger.

“Christ, I love being right about people.” A soft laugh at Halliday, Martin took the dagger and flicked it in the air once… twice. “Porn time it is for you, Doc.”

Martin came in close and eased a touch under Gray’s suit jacket. “You gonna tell me why I hurt so much today, hm?” He tilted his head, his breath brushing Gray’s cheek. “Try listing it for me, step by step.” He smiled, body pressed so close, cock brushing cock. “Can you even remember?” Martin searched his look. “Do you want to, or does it scare even you?”

Gray levelled his look on Martin.

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