J. Robb - Immortal in Death

"Then you went after Boomer."

"I couldn't go to his flop and drag him out. My face is too well known around there. I gave him a little time, then I contacted him. Told him we'd be able to deal. We needed him in on our side. He was stupid enough to buy it. Then I had him."

"You messed him up first. You didn't kill him quick."

"I had to find out how much he'd let out, who he might have talked to. He didn't deal well with pain, our Boomer. Spilled his guts. I found out about the formula. Really pissed me off. I wasn't going to mess up his face like the hooker's, but I lost it. Plain and simple. Got emotionally involved, you could say."

"You're a cold bastard," Eve muttered, making her voice weak and blurry.

"Now that's just not true, Eve. You ask Peabody." He grinned, gave her breast a quick tweak that sent fury and rage cycling to her gut. "I went for DeeDee when I realized you weren't going to take a nibble. Too wrapped up in that rich Irish bastard to take a look at a real man. And DeeDee, bless her, was ripe for plucking. Never could get much out of her on what you were up to, though. DeeDee's got good cop all over her. Slip a little help into her wine, though, she gets more cooperative."

"You drugged Peabody?"

"Now and then, just to pump her for any details you might have left out of your official report. And to keep her sleeping pretty when I had to go out at night. She was an airtight alibi. Anyway, you know about Pandora. That went pretty much as you had figured, too. Only I was staking out her place that night. Scooped her up the minute she came storming out. She wanted to go to that designer's. We'd pretty much finished up our sexual relationship by then. Just business now. I figured why not take her? I knew she was working to cut me out of the whole deal. She wanted it all. She didn't think she needed some street cop hanging on, even if he was the one to give her the damn stuff to begin with. She knew about Boomer, too. But that didn't bother her. What did she care about some dirty alley croucher? And she never thought, never considered that I'd hurt her."

"But you did."

"I took her where she wanted to go. I'm not really sure if I was going to do it then, but when I saw the security camera smashed, it seemed like a sign. Then the place was empty. Just her and me. They'd hang it on the dressmaker, right? Or on the little lady she'd had a fight with. So I hit her. The first strike took her down, but she was up again. That shit made her strong and mean. I had to keep hitting her, and hitting her. Fucking blood flying. Then she was down for good. Your little friend came in, and you know the rest."

"Yeah, I know the rest. You went back and took the box with the tabs. Why did you take her palm 'link?"

"She always used it to call me. She might've recorded the numbers."

"Cockroach?"

"Just something extra in the mix. To confuse things. Cockroach was always willing to sample a new product. You were hammering away, and I wanted a hit where I was well alibied, just in case. So I had DeeDee."

"You got to Jerry, too, didn't you?"

"Easy as a walk on the beach. Get one of the VT's stirred up with a quick buzz, wait for the chaos. I had a reviver for Jerry, brought her around and had her out of there before she knew what was happening. I promised her a fix, and she cried like a baby. Morphine first so she wouldn't get any idea about not cooperating. Then Immortality, then a dash of Zeus. She died happy, Eve. Thanking me."

"You're a humanitarian, Casto."

"No, Eve, I'm a selfish man looking out for number one. And I'm not ashamed of it. I've got twelve years on the streets, wading through blood, vomit, and come. I've paid my dues. This drug's going to give me everything I've ever wanted. I'll take my captaincy, and with that kind of connection, I'll feed profits from the drug into a nice numbered account for four or five years, then I'll retire to a tropical island and sip mai tais."

He was winding down now, she could tell it from the tone of his voice. The excitement, the arrogance had cooled to practicality. "You'll have to kill me first."

"I know that, Eve. It's a damn shame. I all but handed you Fitzgerald, but you just wouldn't let it be." With what might have been affection, he brushed a hand over her hair. "I'm going to make it easy on you. I've got something here that'll take you down gently. You won't feel anything."

"That's damn considerate of you, Casto."

"I owe you that much, honey. Cop to cop. If you'd let it lay, after your friend got off, but you wouldn't. I wish things had been different, Eve. I had a real taste for you." He leaned close, so close she felt his breath waft over her lips as though he were indeed about to taste her.

Slowly, she lifted her lashes, looking through them into his face. "Casto," she said softly.

"Yeah. Just relax now. Won't take long." He reached for his pocket.

"Fuck you." She brought her knee up hard. Her depth perception was still slightly skewed. Rather than connecting with his groin she knocked solidly into his chin. He went backward off the bed, and the pressure injector in his hand skittered over the floor.

They both dived for it.

"Where the hell is she? She wouldn't have walked out on her own party." Mavis tapped her spiked heels impatiently as she continued to scan the club. "And she's the only one of us still sober."

"Ladies' room?" Nadine suggested, half-heartedly tugging her blouse over her lacy bra.

"Peabody's checked twice. Dr. Mira, she wouldn't have made a run for it, would she? I know she's nervous, but – "

"She's not the running kind." Though her head was still revolving, Mira struggled to keep her speech coherent. "We'll look around again. She's here somewhere. It's just so crowded."

"Still looking for the bride?" Grinning widely, Crack lumbered up. "Looks like she just wanted a last ride. The dude over there saw her slip into one of the privacy rooms with a cowboy type."

"Dallas?" Mavis snorted at the thought of it. "No way."

"So, she's celebrating." Crack lifted his shoulders.

"Got plenty more rooms, ladies, if you got an itch."

"Which room?" Peabody demanded, sober now that she'd thrown up everything in her stomach including, she was sure, a good portion of the lining.

"Number five. Hey, you want a gang bang, I can round up some nice young boys for you. All sizes, all shapes, all colors." He shook his head as they marched off, and decided that he'd better go along to keep the peace.

Eve's fingers slipped off the injector, and the elbow to her cheekbone sent pain grinding down her face and into her teeth. Still, she had first blood, and the shock of finding her ready to fight had shaken him.

"You should have given me a bigger dose." She followed up the statement with a short-armed punch to his windpipe. "I wasn't drinking tonight, asshole." She managed to roll him over. "I'm getting married tomorrow." She punctuated this by bloodying his nose. "That was for Peabody, you bastard."

He caught her in the ribs and winded her. She felt the injector pass over her arm and heaved up by the hips to kick. She would never know if it was blind luck, her lack of depth perception, or his own miscalculation, but he dodged to avoid the gut thrust, and her feet, coming up like pistons, caught him square in the face.

His eyes rolled back in his head; his head hit the floor with an ominous and satisfying thud.

Still, he'd managed to get more of the drug into her. She crawled, drifting in the sensation of swimming through thick, golden syrup. She made it to the door, but the lock and its key code appeared to be twelve feet above her grasping hand.

Then the door burst open and all hell broke loose.

She felt herself lifted, patted down. Someone was ordering in no-nonsense tones that she be given air. Giggles bubbled up in her. She was flying now, was all she could think.