“At least I’m doing something, you self-righteous prick!” While Randolph’s tone had softened, Liam’s took on more of an edge. The longer Randolph looked at him with his wide eyes and friendly smile, the more Liam’s teeth crept down to form the start of rounded fangs. “The humans may be too fucking stupid to ever admit their place in the real pecking order, but the Skinners know all too well. What I’m doing here will bring those killers to us instead of allowing them to hide and plot and build in the dark just like their whole cowardly species has done for so goddamn long.”
“I’ve only smelled two of them throughout this whole state.”
“Which must mean there’s precious few of them left,” Liam pointed out. “When they’re gone, there’ll be that many less thorns in our sides. And after the events I’ve started, Skinners will gather here from across this continent and probably others. They’ll come looking for us, and if we can’t snuff them out, we truly do belong skulking in the woods.”
Randolph nodded slowly. “You’ve done some real culling, eh? If you’d killed even one of those two Skinners, you would have bragged about it by now. Instead, you’re wincing when you move and favoring one side over the other. Those arrogant humans probably just snuck in a lucky shot, right?”
Leaning to get a better look at the right side of Randolph’s face, Liam replied, “You’ve got no room to talk. That wound’s new and has the looks of one that will never heal. Blood Blade, I’d guess. With your rugged Celtic looks, I bet that just drives the girls crazy.”
Although Randolph didn’t move to touch the thick, jagged scar that ran from his right cheek down to his jaw, he twitched as if that part of his face was about to leap away from his skull.
“Who did that to you?” Liam asked. “Was it a little brunette with the tight ass or the fellow who looked ready to piss himself?” Liam waited for a second and then nodded. “They’re very creative, you know. I wouldn’t be surprised if another one of their kind was somewhere scooping up our droppings to mix into some sort of potion.”
The expression on Randolph’s face would have been enough to force a lion back into a dark corner, but Liam only acknowledged it with a wary chuckle.
“You know it’s true, pretty boy.”
“I have the blade now,” Randolph growled. “That’s all that matters.”
Liam’s narrow features were made even sharper by the cruel grin that took them over. “Carried it away while it was embedded in your face, huh? Great plan, my friend. Since you’d probably like to get some more Skinner flesh under your nails, you can help me pick off the ones that did that to you. They flocked to this place thanks to me, and if there’s more of them anywhere nearby, they’ll come too.”
“So that’s your real reason for all of this?” Randolph asked. “Force the Skinners into a fight and bring me here to join you. What about that other stray you found?”
Drawing back as if preparing to defend his young, Liam said, “Henry is a Full Blood who knows more about our enemies than either of us.”
“He’s tainted by the Nymar.”
“Not anymore. The Skinners saw to that. They cut it out of him and killed it using a Blood Blade and some of their own witchcraft. It was quite a sight to see. Now that the leeches are out of him, Henry can focus the gift that vampire gave him.” Flashing a grin that was just a bit too wide, Liam proudly added, “He’s a Mind Singer. Unfocused, but the gift is in him.”
“And where is he?”
For the first time since he’d started the conversation, Liam faltered. He glanced toward a glass door that was mostly covered by a set of white vertical blinds as he replied, “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him for weeks. He buggered off to find one of the Skinners that hurt him and I ain’t seen him since. He’s still alive, though. We may not be able to sniff him out for whatever reason, but we know he’s alive.”
“He is a Mind Singer,” Randolph grunted. “The world’s gotten loud enough as it is, but I still hear his song when I’m not even listening. As do the Mongrels. He’s told us the Nymar aren’t as organized as we thought, but the chatter never stops.”
“Try havin’ a conversation with the poor bastard.”
“Wherever he is, he can stay there. Just as we’ve stayed out of the cities because everything moves along smoother that way. That’s how it should remain.”
“No,” Liam snarled.
“Word has already spread.”
“Ahh,” Liam sighed contentedly. “Machines can be good for somethin’.”
The closest machine at the moment was the one that had produced the coffee. Randolph let out a measured breath and let his eyes wander from that machine to the others in the kitchen and eventually to the entertainment center in the living room. Lowering his gaze toward the bloodstained carpet, he asked, “What about the family that lived in this house?”
“They’re brewing into another batch of reinforcements. Half Breeds may be a pain in everyone’s collective arse, but they work cheap and bring plenty of friends.”
“The children?”
Liam set the carafe down and stepped up to stand toe-to-toe with the other man. Even though he wasn’t nearly as burly as Randolph, he stuck his chin out and balled his fists as if hoping for a confrontation. “After all the decades of being hunted, of hiding, of being exiled, of scampering away from the idiots in these cities, you’re going to question how I go about my affairs?”
“I merely asked about the children who live here.”
“How do you know there were children here? Can you smell ’em? Some might consider that a little peculiar.”
“There’s crayon pictures on the fridge. Little bowls and little plastic spoons in the sink. Should I bother looking for toys?”
Liam blinked, stepped away, and took another swig of coffee. “Whatever children that live here must be away. They’ll sure get a nasty surprise if they come back, eh?”
For a few seconds Randolph was quiet. The breaths that rolled through his chest were growls that simmered much like coffee in the machine next to Liam’s hand had. When one of those breaths reached fruition, it spilled out of a mouth that was beginning to form into a snout. Abruptly, Randolph turned and headed for the door that led from the kitchen and opened to a set of stairs leading down. The door was nearly ripped off its hinges as he stomped down to the basement.
Liam moved toward the doorway at a leisurely pace.
Randolph stopped at the bottom of the stairs, which was far enough for him to see the broken cement, dirt, and other refuse that had piled up when a large hole had been dug into the basement floor. The hole was just big enough for three Half Breeds to lay curled up in a bundle of gnarled flesh and had the stink of a den, but was empty.
“Where are they?” Randolph growled.
“I planted them somewhere near a snack for whenever they get hungry,” the skinnier man replied from the kitchen. “Even if you do find them, you won’t be able to get to all the others. I had quite a busy evening.”
Just to be certain, Randolph checked the rest of the basement. “If you want to force the humans’ hand,” he shouted from the musty space, “do it yourself. Don’t drag any other Full Blood into it and don’t make any more Half Breeds! If we were ever to have a curse, those wretches are it. Creating them to fight your battle is—”
“Is what?” Liam chided. “A sin?”
“It’s a disgrace.”
“Not the noble crusade like your fight against the Skinners?” Liam sneered in a quiet voice he knew the other Full Blood could hear. “However many you’ve killed, it’ll never be enough. They’re humans, so they’ll only reproduce until you’re smothered in a blanket of them. But it’s not just you being smothered. It’s all of us. Something needs to be done to wipe them out or put them in their place.”
“And you think this will do the job?” Randolph asked. “Have you truly lost your mind?”
Liam stalked down the stairs, raking his nails along the wall while using his free hand to tap his forehead as if he was sending code. “I’m using my brain! You’ve never understood strategy, Randolph. I’m drawing as many of our
