Free Primacy of Darkness by Brock E. Deskins Page B

as I went flying past her. She looked almost as surprised as I was. If she wasn’t expecting the van, then who the hell were they? Do I have two hit teams after me? How many people have I pissed off? It’s best I don’t answer that. It would hurt my feelings, if I had any.
    “I think I’ve done everything I can,” Raj announces after more than an hour of suturing. “I hope it’s enough.”
    “It should be fine, thanks. It’s probably best if you leave before I do my bit. My reserves are tapped out and this level of regeneration is going to leave me famished.”
    Raj looks even more nervous than when I gave him my severed hand and told him to make like Dr. Frankenstein. He swallows a lump in his throat, nods, and makes for the door. I follow him out and climb onto my bike. I don’t think I will go into a feeding frenzy and eat Raj, but there’s no sense in taking unnecessary risks.
    I wait until he gets in his car and drives off before focusing on my arm. My hunger spikes to a painful level as my body regenerates the nerves, tissue, and bones in my wrist. I play a little air guitar to make sure everything is working properly and send a quick text before firing up my Harley and speeding down the street.
    My mouth is literally watering at the prospect of a full feeding, and my stomach is competing with my bike to see who can growl the loudest. So far, it’s a draw. The meal I have planned for tonight is a heroin dealer whose last bad batch killed three people. Katherine wasn’t able to prosecute thanks to a poorly-executed search warrant. It didn’t take me long to get the code I needed to set up a buy, thanks to my contacts in the criminal underworld. Sometimes, having friends in low places is a good thing.
    I park my bike in the darkest corner of the parking lot and walk through the park. I stand beneath a streetlight and wait. I don’t need much in the way of acting skills to play the part of a jonesing junkie. I hear his footsteps and pick up his scent before he gets close enough to speak.
    “Are you Larry?” he asks from what he thinks is the safety of the dark shadows.
    My vision allows me to see him without a problem. “Yeah. You got what I want?”
    “Come over here out of the light.”
    I stride over to where he is waiting in the shadows.
    “You wanted twenty bags of China White, right?”
    I unclench my fists as I pull my hands out of my jacket pockets. “Actually, I am going to need a lot more than that.”
    He starts to look a bit nervous, his eyes shifting from side to side as he tries to make sense of my changing the deal. “How much more? I might not have enough on me.”
    A predatory smile creeps onto my face. “Oh, you have plenty on you for what I need.”
    I move with preternatural speed. I am behind him in an instant, one hand clamped over his mouth in an unbreakable hold. The ring razor looped onto my other thumb makes a small incision over the carotid artery. I clamp my mouth over the wound before the first spurt of blood reaches the grass.

 
    CHAPTER 9
    Circe had to cling to the door handle to keep from rolling around as the van sped down the street, its tires squealing whenever they took a sharp turn.
    “I don’t think he’s following,” a masked man announced as he stared out of the back window.
    “Who are you people?” Circe asked.
    “Don’t worry, we’re friends,” a woman sitting across from her and pressing a wad of cloth against Trinh’s chest answered.
    Circe darted to Trinh’s side and held her by the arm. “We have to get her to a hospital!”
    “She’ll die if we take her to a hospital.”
    “She’ll die if we don’t!”
    The woman took off her balaclava. She had short, dark hair, with a spattering of freckles across a pert nose. Her eyes were hazel green with sharp corners like a cat.
    “We have someone who might be able to help and she’s a lot closer than the hospital.”
    “Who?”
    The woman glanced at Trinh. “She’s not a normal human, is