James McCann Kith3

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had brown eyes and hair, thin red lips and a nose like a button. Though thin,
her form was curvy and well endowed, perfectly suited for the purpose life had
given her.
What time is it? Jack asked.
Almost
Noon.
Noon? You mean Midnight. Jack grabbed a gnarly pair of jeans from a chair
and sat over the side of the bed. As the chair fell to the ground Jack put on
the pants.
Time is relative. She picked up the chair and straddled it.
When are you going to clean this place up? There was an edge to his tone. He
did not look at her.
I didn t know you wanted me to. Her voice cracked.
Do I look like I want to live in a pig-sty? Where s my grey shirt?
I don t know, she whispered, her eyes wide and hands shaking.
Bullshit! Slapping her hard he stood and walked to stand before the mirror,
though he cast no reflection.
The Kith 25
Tammi collapsed to the floor. Rubbing her face she reached under the bed and
produced the garment in question. Jack grabbed it and slipped into it. He
headed for the door.
Tammi said, You re supposed to go see Naztar.
Jack opened the door, paused in the frame, but walked out without a word.
You are either a very egotistical man, or a very stupid one. Naztar, clad in
an
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Armani, sat behind a large oak desk. A computer took up much of the space on
the desk except where a cluster of papers was piled in the center. The Kith
ignored his guests and turned to face a large window behind him, pulling on a
chain that drew back large, heavy drapes. At one time the second story glass
gave view to a densely treed park, but now it overlooked the busy street and
shops that had destroyed nature s refuge.
Paintings adorned the walls, most dating as far back as the Dark Ages, all
different save for having the same theme. In each a youthful woman, long red
hair and eyes so green they took away one s breath, was featured so realistic
it could have been a snapshot. In some she was merely sitting with her hair
draped over her shoulders, but in most she was dancing to different backdrops.
There was no shingle beneath to say who she might have been.
A fireplace, ablaze with life, brought heat to the modest quarters. The floor
was hardwood and well taken care of, and before the desk were two Edwardian
chairs occupied. In one sat Trent wearing the morbid signature attire of his
kind: tapered jeans, silk dress shirt and a full-length trench coat. In the
seat beside him sat Melanie, tanned complexion, short blue skirt and a white
blouse. Her blonde hair was tucked beneath a baseball cap that read, Winnipeg
Blue Bombers. She was quite a contrast to the pale, sickly-looking Kith.
Naztar kept his back to his guests and said, What makes you think you have
anything I desire?
When you address me, you may call me Trent, he paused uncertain if his
disrespect had gone too far or not far enough. He had never before seen
Cimmerian Kith and only had legend and hearsay to go on. He continued when
there was no comment from the
Sage. I have been a Rogue since my Begetting. I have accumulated many things,
yet still
I yearn for something more. My Pleasure is incomplete.
On the word something Naztar turned from the paned glass and meandered
around the desk. Standing before the woman he took her hand and kissed it.
Such a beautiful blood-slave, how can your Pleasure not be complete?
Rouge filled the woman s cheeks as Trent stood and picked up a leather satchel
that was at his feet. He did not want too much attention on Melanie in case
her fright gave away their masquerade. But it was not fright Trent sensed from
her but excitement.
Opening the bag he said, I have been a collector of antiquities and have
amassed quite a fortune.
The word fortune took Naztar s attention from the woman. Trent continued, I
desire a family with whom to share my wealth.
Indeed. Naztar took the bag and returned to his desk.
The Kith 26
Those are yours, a gift from me. Should you desire more we can work out a
partnership. Trent sat back in his chair, feeling rather smug.
Naztar opened the bag and examined its contents. His eyes widened, his jaw
dropped and had there been blood in his veins it would have boiled. Trent knew
he had pushed too far, but before either could speak there was a knock on the
door.
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You re invited, Naztar growled.
Hallways intertwined through the complex like a series of intricate mazes. To
outsiders this Labyrinth was impressive, but Jack had become bored of it long [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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