Page 61 of A Murderous Crow
“She’s been here once already,” I tried and he shook his head.
“On a fuckin’ Tuesday – when practically no one was here and to blow you downstairs. I know.”
“Specter or Revenant?” I scowled.
“Who do you think?” he demanded.
“Fuckin’ Specter,” I grumbled.
He shrugged, “She pissed him off.”
I smiled at that and said, “I’ll just bet she did. Reject one of his crude advances?”
“Yeah,” he grinned and we shared a laugh.
“I can never tell if he’s trying to be serious with that shit or not,” I said.
“Me either – he has to know it ain’t going to work.”
“You’d think,” I agreed.
“Split the difference?” I asked.
“I’m listening,” he said, one brow raised.
“Dinner at the Manse,” I said.
“Sounds like a formal introduction to me…” he trailed off and I shook my head.
“It’s not like that – she’s legit just my latest plaything.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “Stop playin’ in my face, brother. You dropped everything for her a few weeks back, brought her by when it was light on traffic to test her loyalty – albeit lightly, you’ve never had Requiem look into or track a plaything before, and you let her into your place not the carriage house apartment.” He ticked each item off on his fingertips.
“I barely have a finger left over on this hand for how differently you’ve treated her than any other and I’m not hearing awhyof it.”
“Why?” I asked. “Let’s try because I’ve never blown a motherfucker’s head off in front of any playmates before her.” He raised a thumb.
“Bingo!” he declared with a gusty sigh. “She’s been different from the wordgo– and the sooner you stop lying to yourself about it the better. This one is different; why?”
I swiped a hand over my face and beard and sighed.
“I don’tknow,” I confessed finally. “I’m still trying to figure that shit out for myself.”
“Well, you better figure it out quick and fuck her on the dining room table like I did Madisyn or youknowsomeone else is going to make a play – them’s the rules.”
I nodded, “I know the fucking rules – I helped you come up with them, remember?” I smirked, “Besides, I already took her out The Olde Pink House and spread her on the dining room table and ate her pussy for dessert, does that count?”
He laughed and slapped the table, and shook his head – “No witnesses, so fucknoit doesn’t count.”
My face lost its slow smile and I said, “Sheisdifferent…”
Synister’s amusement evaporated and he nodded, “You ain’t telling me nothing I didn’t already know,” he said. “Real deal?” he asked.
I shrugged miserably and said, “I don’t know. As close to it as I’ve come across since Courtney, anyway.”
He was quiet for a time and finally said, “Shewasn’tthe real deal – not even close, Cor. You’ve always known that.”
I nodded.
