Page 17 of Venomous Lies
“I’ve got it under control,” Julian drawled, shooting mea warning glare as if reminding me of our company. “Or are you offering your neck, Ambrose?”
“Depends. I know of your… arrangement with Bricriu, and I don’t bottom,” I drawled, smirking as a spark of humor lit his face for a brief moment.
“You might be a fae, but I can put you in your place if need be.”
“Flirting by a dead body? Maybe we’ve been spending too much time together. Such an Unseelie thing to do or do you just feel comfortable around your own kind?” I gestured at the remains by our feet.
He smirked, though there was no humor in it. Junichiro watched us, and although he didn’t say anything, it was clear that he was absorbing every detail of the interaction.
Just who the hell is he?
Before either of us could continue to trade barbs, we were interrupted by a gratingly nasally voice calling out my name.
Sure enough, in strode the president, his pointy nose leading the way as usual. His dark hair was swept back off his face, and he wore one of his cheap suits that he thought looked great on him. A potato sack would be more appealing than the tragic bulky fabric he put on every day.
“Another body,” he huffed as he got closer. “At least they had the decency to kill them in the woods this time.”
“No one decent would do this,” Julian deadpanned, toeing the edge of what used to be a torso with a shoe. “But I agree, the woods do make it easier to keep the murder out of sight of the students.”
Thatcher wrinkled his nose in distaste, though I couldn’t figure out if it was from the vampire’s tone or the state of the remains.
“Did you manage to make any progress since you’re incharge of figuring this out, Hellsing? Or have you lost your touch?” Thatcher challenged the head librarian with enough insolence that I took a casual step back to get out of the firing range.
Even Junichiro had the wisdom to shift to a fighting stance as if he could sense the storm brewing within the vampire as he slowly turned to stare down the insolent necromancer.
Rage filled Julian’s face, the sight terrifying Thatcher enough that he stumbled back a few steps. He paled, and the sweat that slid down his neck made my nose wrinkle.
He smelled rancid.
“We will catalog the body parts that are not present,” I smoothly interjected when Julian remained silent.Probably for the best.Me being the voice of reason showed just how bad off Julian was at this moment. Normally, he was the epitome of self-control which made me wonder just how long it had been since he had fed last. “We will bring a plan to you tomorrow with ideas on how to proceed. You, of course, will select the one best for Greywood.”
“Later this week, we can have a talk with the students. That would be a strong move from the school. We need a solid show of strength as to how we’re handling this situation.” Julian’s biting tone challenged the president.
Thatcher bristled, huffing and puffing to cover up the stench of his fear while he ordered us to just take care of the body quickly. As he left, he knocked into Julian’s shoulder, a warning to remember his place.
Fucking prick.
He had been so busy trying to show up Julian that he didn’t even address the new professor. Looking around, I realized that the man in question was gone.Where the fuck did he go?
“However things work out, he dies,” Julian stated, staring down at where Thatcher had made contact with his arm.
“I think we will all agree with that detail being added to any plan.” I grinned cockily at him. “Though, I think we also need to remind everyone just who we are because if he had talked to me like that, he would have joined the body on the ground here.”
“Patience.” Julian’s icy exterior cracked a little as he exhaled in a long sigh. “We need to find out what role Thatcher plays in all of this, if he even does. I can’t say that I would place bets that he’d be involved because of his intelligence.”
“But he’d make the perfect scapegoat.” I smirked lazily. “Perfect collateral damage if something were to happen.”
“Agreed,” Falke commented as he reappeared by us.
“Did you find anything?” Julian asked.
Falke replied with a silent shake of his head to convey he’d found nothing in the forest.
The killer was good, I’d give them that.
“What happened to the new guy?” Falke asked as he looked around.
“He slipped away right after Thatcher. Someone to keep an eye on for sure,” Julian replied with a far-off tone.
