The house was bathed in darkness.
Usually, when he woke up, Lorenco had put the lights on. What happened last night wasn’t a nightmare. There was the destroyed atrium above to prove it.
Bomber got out and kept to the walls, as the skylight still showed a dimness of twilight. He went to the fridge and saw the blood bags inside. Although he was famished, he shook his head – emergencies only. Same with the bottles in the dining room. He’d have to start rationing now, at least here at home. He would not bring strangers into his haven.
He snorted, heading to the darkened kitchen. Haven. You’re starting to sound like them now. Next you’ll start calling people “kine” and consider them just food sources, not people.
He did consider them food sources, but he felt that he was like the warden of a preserve. He needed to protect them, to cull out the predators, to allow only certain hunters in, and then call for an open season to take out the overpopulation if necessary. It was his territory, and he was responsible for it. The club was his territory. He was responsible for his patrons’ safety, and the safety of his “herd” – his Blood Dolls.
“My Blood Dolls,” he said, feeling disgusted for even thinking of them like that. But he did, and was.
First, he would feed. Then he’d work on setting wheels in motion looking for Lorenco.
He called Anilia’s cell phone. She answered, sounding stoned. “Hello?”
“Anilia. It’s Bruce.”
“Oh, how are you, honey?”
“What’s your address?”
“378 Fales Street, Skyway, why?”
“I’ll be right over.”
It took him a while, as he stopped for a snack from an unsuspecting person who was power walking, and therefore pumping blood at a much faster rate. Fast food, he thought, again feeling disgusted at even thinking that way.
He didn’t even bother with the doorbell, as he tried the door and it opened. Anilia was in sweats and no makeup – not that she looked bad without it, but she looked damn hot with it – with a lazy look on her face. “Bruce!”
“Anilia. I need you at full capacity.”
“Huh? Why?”
He pulled out the switchblade and cut his wrist, the right way for a suicide, as he had a very fleeting thought of actually going through with it. But he knew somehow that the Beast wouldn’t let him. He offered his arm to her and she drank from it. He knew this was the final act of the blood bond. At this, he didn’t feel disgusted. It was insurance.
Also, he knew his blood would heal her after what he had done to her before, fracturing her pelvis and tearing past her cervix. He knew that didn’t break anything, but it would have made her painfully sore. It also cleared her head.
He pulled his arm back and she reached for him. “No,” he said.
She sat back. Holding his arm against his chest, willing the wound to close, he said, “Do you know cops?”
“I know a some beat cops, and one of the detectives, why?”
“My boyfriend left me. I need to find him before something happens to him.”
She got up from the couch, with a very serious look on her face. “I’ll make some calls.”
“I also need you at the club. I have things to do.” He stepped aside. “Get dressed, I’ll bring you there.”
She smiled at him, caressed his chest through his t-shirt, and bounded off into her bedroom.
As he rode through the streets, with Anilia clutching onto his waist and her breasts crushed against his back, he ruminated about Lorenco. He was just a lover, a lover that could take me. Just a lover, he thought sadly.
You’re a Prince now. You don’t have time for this shit. He’d be a liability.
Can’t I just –
He snapped his own head back as he rode, mentally slapping himself. No, you can’t. You’ve just been thrown into the deep end of the pool. Sink or swim and quit bitching about it.
This really wasn’t any different than finding himself as a newly-minted first lieutenant right after the 100-hour war in Kuwait. He was immediately assigned a new platoon of six Apache choppers and their crews. He didn’t know them. He didn’t know their capabilities, and he was now in charge of them.
In this case, though, he figured a Prince wasn’t supposed to get down and dirty. A Prince was more like a general, issuing commands from on high, letting the shit roll downhill. He remembered the first thing he did with the new men – get the lay of the land. Who was out there claiming to be Prince? Could he work with them or would he have to kill them? More than likely, they’d destroy him first as an usurper. He just might get his suicidal wish.
Anilia squeezed him as they took a corner. Lorenco was more than his lover, he was his protector. Now he had to do it himself.
Time to pull the rifle out of storage.
Words: 912
Inspiration: “The light that burns twice as bright burns for half as long – and you have burned so very, very brightly, Roy.” – Tyrell, Blade Runner. Also RP from last night.
Music: Home – Marc Broussard
Comments: It’s a good thing I never got Bomber commissioned for artwork, and had no plans of doing so.