Free Scarlet Dusk by Megan J. Parker Page B

display with bored eyes, still fidgeting with the letter opener.
    Zane, breathing heavily, glared at his informant. “This… is … serious—”
    “Sorry to interrupt your bitch-fit, Zane, but would you mind retrieving the intercom for me?” he motioned to a small, silver box with a call button on the top. “While I’m positive that all this ”—he waved a hand at the mess that was once his desk—“I’m afraid that my men will be responding to the racket in their own, bullet-fueled way if I don’t call them off. So, if you’d like for us to continue…” he waved his hand towards the intercom.
    Zane bared his fangs but knelt down and retrieved the device, slapping it into Ben’s waiting hand before returning to his chair.
    “Daniel? Yes, yes I’m fine. A good friend of mine decided to let a dumb animal out of its cage and it caused a bit of a commotion. I’ve got a handle of the situation, though. Tell Mira that I said you and the boys are entitled to free drinks for the evening, alright?” The intercom buzzed out as Ben lifted his thumb from the call button.
    “Mira, huh?” Zane smirked. “She stuck with you all this time? Hard to imagine anybody taking you in such large doses.”
    Ben smirked and nodded, “I know, right? Stroke of good luck in an otherwise unlucky world. But the girl gets me, and the good lord knows I love the hell outta her.” He let out a deep sigh then, taking another absent glance at the remains of his desk and then at the intercom in his hand. Rolled his eyes, he tossed the silver box back into the heap of splintered wood and office supplies. “This has officially become the most expensive visit I’ve ever received from you, Zane, and I don’t think I need to remind you that your visits are never cheap. Though I guess I should be thankful you didn’t let that rage-beast in you free. That thing would’ve—” He looked up at Zane, narrowing his eyes, “Wait… you could never control that renegade monster.” He straightened his shoulders and pressed his fingertips together one-by-one, “Can you actually control that thing now?”
    Zane sighed and shook his head. “Alright, Ben, I suppose it’s only fair that I tell you everything…”
     

     
    Ben listened while Zane told him the story of Maledictus and Gregori and, finally, of Serena. As he let the words flow, Zane was startled by how easy the rest of them followed; surprised that, despite their relationship and mutually abrasive personalities, he somehow felt comfortable opening up and being himself with his informant.
    Venting to Ben just felt right.
    And, when it was all over, the arrogant informant offered an understanding nod.
    “Guess I’m not the only asshole on the block who found himself an angel who gets him, huh?”
    Zane smirked and shrugged, “That’s one way to put it, I suppose.”
    “Bullshit! Chick puts up with you— all of you; even that… that fucking psycho-thing, Mega-dick-fist—”
    “Maledictus,” Zane corrected him.
    Ben shrugged, “Whatever. Him . This point is you got something special—a real angel!—if this girl of yours put up with all that and hasn’t run for the hills yet; though if she’s anything like her mother she’d sooner just smear the streets with your insides and laugh at how it looked like Jackson Pollock painting.”
    “You knew Serena’s…” Zane shook his head, “Nevermind. Forgot who I was talking to for a moment; Mister Ben: holder of secrets and lord of the assholes.”
    Ben smirked at that, nodding. “Long as you know who you’re answering to, asshole.”
    “Watch it!” Zane smirked, “Or I’ll roll your ass into traffic.”
    Celine gasped at that, but both Zane and Ben burst into laughter.
    “Oh, fuck, man! I needed that!” Ben lifted his glasses and wiped a laughter-born tear from his eye, “You know that most of these punks treat me like a damn cripple; fucking pussies think that just ‘cause I’m half the vamp I once was that I’m