Cole tried to think of what Paige might say. After that, he thought of about a dozen reasons why he shouldn’t say what Paige would say.
Slowly, the girl in pigtails smiled. When she did, she stared at him in a way that nobody her age should have been able to pull off. There was confidence without cockiness. Some arrogant little teen would have written him off already, but she watched him like a predator that was as aware of herself as she was of her prey. “Look at him,” she said softly. “He
Mullet stepped up so he could bump his shoulder against Cole’s. Some people walked along the sidewalk toward the alley, glanced at Cole being surrounded by the other three and quickly crossed the street to give them some space. He could sense their fear, but the Nymar could practically drink it down.
“You want her to suck you or not?” Mullet asked. When he didn’t get an answer right away, he reached out to grab Cole’s shirt. “Then move the fuck along.”
Cole slapped Mullet’s hand away out of pure reflex and shoved the Nymar back with a move that had been one of the first Paige taught him. While Mullet was recovering his balance, Cole turned to the girl and asked, “You belong to Stephanie, right?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I’m a friend of hers.”
The girl shook her head just enough to wiggle her pigtails. “Mister, you don’t know what you’re talking about and you sure don’t know Stephanie. If you want to party, just say so. There’s no need for all of this testosterone to be flowing.”
“I know Steph well enough,” Cole said. “Is she still keeping Ace on a short leash? I mean, she’s got to be the one who insists all of her girls wear those pigtails. If it was up to Ace, you’d probably be branded or something.”
All three of them took a step back, eyeing him as if committing every detail to memory.
“If I look in that alley, will I find out you three have been feeding in the open?” Cole asked. “You know that’s against the rules.”
At first Mullet looked surprised. His slack-jawed expression quickly gave way to a snarl. When he curled his lips back, the big set of upper and lower fangs slid out from his gums. Cole knew there was a third set of fangs in there, but the Nymar wasn’t laying all his cards on the table just yet. “So you’re the new Skinner we’ve been hearing about?”
The Nymar with the beard crouched down a bit while keeping his eyes fixed upon Cole. That one did extend his other set of upper fangs. The thinner, curved teeth dropped into place, where they were framed by the thicker set used for feeding.
“Take it easy, Sid,” the girl said. “Even a Skinner might want a bit of lovin’.”
“Oh yeah,” Cole chuckled. “You’re one of Steph’s all right.”
Her smile didn’t fade in the least. She reached out to let her fingers wander along Cole’s chest. “All kinds of normal people pay us good money to feed on them, you know. I’ve got more regulars than I can handle, and we only just set up shop here a week ago.”
“You shouldn’t have set up shop here at all. You’ve been warned to stay away from Cicero.”
“Warned by who?” Mullet asked. “Gerald was the only real Skinner around here, and that old man’s dead. I hear his skinny little partner got killed too. That only leaves some short broad, which sure ain’t you.”
That dredged up some bad memories, which Cole couldn’t keep from showing on his face. The instant he felt the warm flush run through his cheeks, the Nymar took note.
“You knew Gerald?” Mullet asked.
This time Cole didn’t have to dig down to put an edge into his voice, and he didn’t have to try to make his anger seem convincing. “I knew Gerald well enough, and if you’ve been feeding in the open, I’ll do Gerald proud by kicking your asses all the way back to the Levee.”
“We conduct our business where we please, Skinner,” Sid growled. “That is, if you even are a Skinner.”
The girl’s fingers encircled Cole’s wrist. Before he could pull away from her, she twisted his hand up to get a look at the scars on his palm. “He
“Show me the alley,” Cole snapped as he pulled against the girl’s thumb just as Paige had taught him. Even if the Nymar was stronger than him, she still had a weak point in her grip, just like anyone else who walked around using all the human bits and pieces.
Clenching her hand into a little fist, she stepped back and allowed the other two to stalk forward. “You want to look down that alley?” she asked. “Be our guest.”
Cole glanced up and down the sidewalk. There were a few people here and there, but none of them were anxious to have any part in what was going on near the alley. Suddenly, he thought of something that didn’t involve walking into a cramped spot with three Nymar bloodsuckers behind him. Surprisingly enough, his idea didn’t involve running away either.
“It’s all right,” he shouted toward the alley. “You can come out now.”
A dog barked somewhere. Farther up on Cermak, someone blasted their stereo loud enough for the bass to rattle Cole’s back teeth. Other than that…nothing.
“Nobody’s going to hurt you,” Cole added. “No charges will be filed if you just come out right now.”
Before the bass line up the street could shift into another song, another figure emerged from the alley. Unlike the ones that had caught Cole’s attention in the first place, this figure wasn’t sporting any black marks on its neck or wrists. It also wasn’t wearing any pants.
“I don’t want any trouble,” the guy said. “I was just waiting for her to…” He was somewhere in his forties, with a full head of hair and a gut that would have hung over a belt if one had been around his waist. Grabbing at the rolls on his hips, he suddenly realized what was already painfully obvious to everyone else. “I…don’t have my pants. Can I just—”
“Get out of here,” Cole snapped. “And whatever you were doing before, don’t do it again.”
The guy looked around quickly and then scampered off in the direction with the fewest people to gawk at him.
“Another happy customer,” the girl said with a grin.
“Take your business where it belongs,” Cole warned. “Right now.”
“Or what?” Mullet challenged.
The Nymar with the eighties hairstyle might have been posturing, but his buddy meant business. Sid crouched down and bared all three sets of fangs in the supernatural equivalent of taking a gun from its holster and thumbing back the hammer.
One of those Nymar was going to pounce at any second. After that, the others would follow. Since turning his back on them wasn’t a smart idea, Cole knew he only had one alternative. He filled his lungs with warm night air, catching a whiff of the hamburgers waiting for him on his front seat, then grabbed the closest Nymar by the front of his shirt. Mullet seemed surprised to be targeted, but twisted to get away while also attempting to swipe at him with his right fist.
One of the first lessons Paige had taught Cole about fighting was to use movement and momentum to his advantage. She’d tested him relentlessly, landing punch after punch until he had learned to anticipate and adjust to every swing. Now that it really mattered, he did exactly what he was supposed to do.
When Mullet pivoted to swing his right fist, Cole tightened his grip on the Nymar’s shirt and turned in that same direction. That way, it took a minimum of effort for Cole to spin his opponent around and slam him against the car. Mullet hit the Cavalier hard enough to dent the door, which wasn’t nearly enough damage to stand out from all the other ugly spots on the vehicle. While Mullet tried to figure out what had just happened, Cole hit him in the face. Other than being very satisfying, the punch only resulted in Cole ripping open his own fist against the Nymar’s upper fangs. Fortunately for him, they weren’t the slender, snakelike fangs. The venom from those would have knocked him out faster than a kick to the head. Thanks to Paige’s sparring sessions, he was all too familiar with being kicked in the head.
Sid let out a snarling hiss as he jumped toward Cole’s back. Having expected that from the start, Cole hopped aside to catch only a glancing blow as the bearded Nymar slammed against the dented Cavalier.
Cole staggered back a few steps, slow to make another move simply because he was surprised to be doing so well in the fight. He wanted to get to his spear, but there were two Nymar pressed up against the door. As much as he would have loved to run around to the driver’s side, he didn’t want to give the others a chance to catch their
