thoughts inside your brain

A hen party, really? The flash of the setting sun on a baby pink sash had caught his eye. A mirrored gleam had shot through his chest as he’d thought for just a heartbeat that it might’ve been Cassie rushing across the square towards him. Disappointment had followed, frustration rushing in on its heels. He wouldn’t have had time to do more than kiss her hello – alright, maybe more than just that considering how often that desperate need for her had struck since his birthday – since he was due at the club in half an hour. Linc swallowed hard, trying to wash the warmth in it back and turned back.

Magnus was probably gonna shit a brick when he saw him there, so maybe there was a chance he’d be able to head to the Reids’ shop after all. Poor little Linc, shit scared after he’d almost died at another vampire’s hands. The hair rose on the back of his throat as he started to slow his footsteps. He hadn’t even thought of that when he’d rushed out of the storeroom where he’d been cowering like a powerless human, a kid. His dad had was gonna die, killed by the man who was supposed to be his friend. No way could he sit by and let it happen. He couldn’t lose his dad any more than Magnus could lose a son. Either one of them would’ve died in a way at it.

The shriek from the women reached a new pitch. One of them reeling away in his peripheral vision. Linc scowled, hunching his shoulders against it. If he’d listened to Magnus and stayed at home recovering, he wouldn’t have had to hear it, or the sound of pee hitting the blacktop as whoever had staggered into the alleyway let loose. Bile burned at the back of his throat, an echo of the sobs that’d wracked him as he’d clung to his dad over Hector’s body. He was alright, this wasn’t gonna bring on some sort of PTSD episode. A couple of hours at the club just to dip a toe back in and then he’d go home, maybe see if Cassie wanted to come round.

Keep the door open. Sit in the living room with us. I’ll check on you in half an hour.

Another twitch as Magnus’ voice echoed in his ears, covering the sound of the tiny bladdered drunk woman for a moment. It wasn’t like the two of them had been having sex when Magnus had walked in, but you’d have thought they’d been caught at it with the way Magnus had acted when he’d come home that night. He wasn’t a child, he wasn’t terrified of his shadow. At some point his dad had to stop babying him.

”Hey, baby, you got a light?”

That live wire twitch of frustration under his skin sparked, jerking his head around as the woman still a dozen feet into the alleyway staggered to her feet, smiling sloppily at him. She hadn’t even pulled her underwear up all the way. Sandy blonde hair tangled around her face, a bleary, red rimmed pair of blue eyes peering out from behind the tangled strands. She could’ve been his mum, the likeness there just enough that the sick feeling slammed into him before anger tore it away. If his mum had been sober he wouldn’t have had another dad, he wouldn’t have been locked in the club’s basement for years. He wouldn’t have been at the club for Hector to be on the brink of killing.

Red flooded his vision like a filter thrown on a light in the club. Throbbing, sliding over his skin and down her throat, just like her blood did a minute later.

Coloured faded from his vision. Darkness flickered across his vision. Cold skin broke contact with his fingers as he let the body fall. The body … This time he jerked away as he should’ve done the first time, his head spinning around to stare at Lawrence. What?

Squinting like he’d suddenly been given his freedom from the basement again, Linc watched Lawrence drag a cigarette along the wall. Tiny sparks like fireflies dropped from the end as he stubbed it out and flicked it away. ”I didn’t …” he muttered, the lie tasting bitter as one of those cigarettes on his tongue. He was surprised Lawrence hadn’t acted like he was wringing his hands here, little Linc didn’t have the balls to kill, not like Lawrence who’d turned into a complete knob when Hannya had forced him to turn his emotions off.

The back of his hand swiped over his mouth, the evidence of his lie wrinkling his nose as it reignited the smell of the blood and the anger that had raged in him. ”I wasn’t meant to be there. I’m guessin’ you were though. What happened? Did my dad fire you again?” It wasn’t like they were trusting any of Hector’s decisions these days.

Linc’s gaze dropped again as Lawrence ambled close, sliding into arsehole mode. ”I don’t kill. I drink blood bags. I’m not like you.” The words snapped out, a growl edging them. He wasn’t a monster, Cassie, his dad, even Jo had assured him of that. This had been … a slip. He could still make it better, she couldn’t have been dead when she’d just been crooning to him a minute ago. ”Shut up. Why the fuck do you never keep your gob shut? Oh, let me guess, Hannya made sure you can’t do that either, gotta keep it open for her right?” Dropping to a crouch next to the woman, feeling a cold sweat start to gather in the dip of his spin. He jammed his wrist in his mouth, tearing the skin open to press against the woman’s slack mouth. Bruises mottled her face, ringing her torn throat, robbing her of any similarity there might have been to his mum.

Tagged: LAWRENCE MURPHY * Word Count: 1000 (soz)

Poor little Linc, his parents can’t even get it together enough to remember he’s trailing after them.

The sympathy had rolled off of Wesley and his people at the start. They’d gather him in as his parents disappeared into the crowd, their eyes already growing hazy from whatever pre-loading they’d been able to afford to do before they’d left home, the fact that they actually had a kid already slipping their minds. It’d been cloying at first, shame burning bright in his cheeks as one of the women Wesley usually had working his after parties had offered to get his clothes washed in Wes’ apartment. Once his parents were dead the sympathy and the shame had vanished in an instant.

Maybe Magnus had revealed his past to Hector to talk him into taking the boy on at the club, but he’d always doubted that he’d told a single sordid detail of it to Lawrence, Hannya or any of the others. Somehow it was like they’d figured it out though. The sympathy was snide, the jabs about his dad made to piss him off. Usually that wave of embarrassment would rush in, but it wasn’t like he had the blood in his veins to blush like he used to anymore (except maybe for when he was with Cassie, but she’d always been a special case).

His face felt hotter this time, the centre of him cold oddly cold in contrast until Lawrence had opened his gob. Now the heat spread, his temper inching back from simmer to full boil. ”Don’t be an idiot,” he scoffed. Although that always seemed like an impossibility with Lawrence, it was like Hannya sucked his brains out along with everything else. ”Did you get kicked out a second time? They didn’t want you makin’ stupid suggestions at the meetin’?” That had probably been his dad. Magnus might’ve been endlessly patient with him, but when it came to other people that could change rapidly.

Looking down at the pale, still body on the ground, Linc felt the panic start to rise up through the anger. It swelled like a bubble under his diaphragm, threatening to tear its way through. He’d sworn to Magnus he wouldn’t slip again, he’d promised Cassie he wasn’t a monster. Lawrence seemed to think he was both and there wasn’t a problem with that. ”You were never anythin’ like me,” Linc snapped. ”You always think you know what’s goin’ on with me. All of you do – soft little Linc needs his dad babysittin’ him all the time. Hasn’t got the balls to do anything.” Soft little Linc feeling the burn in his sinuses like he was gonna cry for a woman he’d hated only moments before. He’d rather tear his own eyes out now than let Lawrence see him break over this.

The woman wasn’t innocent. She’d been drunk so early in the day, had probably taken more than just shots of vodka too. Learing at him like he would’ve wanted to go anywhere near her. If she had kids they’d be better off now...

The voice in the back of his head hissed sharply, then cut off with a high whine as he felt her cold, still lips brush against his wrist. They were red with his blood when he drew away, like his were with hers. And. Lawrence. Was. Still. Yapping.

”What the fuck is wrong with you?” Linc asked as he slowly rose to his feet. ”Is that what you do? Slaughter whoever the hell you want and just toss them out like they don’t mean a thing?” Like the voice in his head hadn’t just seen the woman as garbage five seconds before. The track in his mind had flipped over, the anger that was coursing through him like lightning finding a new spot to strike at.

Colour rose in his face as he turned to look at Lawrence, the veins beneath his eyes turning black again. ”I’m not a child. I was never a child, but you that’s all you see. Baby Linc cryin’ cause he hurt some woman. Can’t cross the road without holdin’ his dad’s hand. How someone’s not torn your throat out to shut you up before now is a fuckin’ mystery.” It wasn’t gonna be one for much longer though. Linc started to stalk towards Lawrence, his face twisting with rage before he threw himself at him. Magnus would’ve been broken hearted if he’d had to kill Hector, mourning him for the next seven hundred years. Nobody would do the same for Lawrence, his sister would probably be glad of the peace and Hannya, well, she’d just climb onto the next idiot who couldn’t keep their knob in their pants.

Tagged: LAWRENCE MURPHY * Word Count: 786