Fucker might have had a narrow wardrobe when he’d been human, but he’d been making up for the deficit ever since. He had more clothes than the Metropolitan Museum had art. Unfortunately, most were in the hallway that led down to their cribs. Every time V had to leave his and Doc Jane’s room, he felt like he was in the last thirty feet of a car wash. The fact that he hadn’t taken a flamethrower to the threads proved how much he loved the guy.
“Hello?” Butch said. “You in there?”
“I think we need to start at the beginning.”
The cop’s brows popped up over his baby hazels. “Well, considering that involved Fritz asking you all to kill me out behind the house because he didn’t want to bloody his rugs—I mean, do wehaveto go back there?”
“Har-har.”
V watched his arrow make the perimeter around the Firefox window he’d opened to theCaldwell Courier Journal’s website. Then he switched over to his Microsoft Outlook. “Why the hell is there so much spam. I spend my fucking life sending things to my junk folder—and every fucking night, it’s a new crop dusting. Like I’ve ever ordered anything from Wayfair?”
“Oh, that was me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Shoe sorter. You know the ones you hang on the backs of closet doors?”
V sat deeper into his chair. “You already have one of those.”
“I’m going to hang the new one on the wall. Like it’s art.”
“Jesus.”
Butch made the sign of the cross and went over to the leather sofa. “So, what are we going back to the beginning on.”
“Finding the prison camp. We need to follow the drugs again. That’s the income source for the place, and no matter where they are or who is in charge, they will keep that business going. Even if they change the packaging, we’ll be able to track them down somehow.”
“Did Wrath outlaw the camp?”
“Saxton’s still working on it. He’s dotting t’s, crossing i’s.”
“Isn’t that the other way around?”
“And you think I struggle with a sense of humor.”
Butch rolled his eyes. “Well, I do think you’re right—not about the alphabet, though. The drugs are all we’ve got, so let’s head out into the field now. Marissa’s already at Safe Place working, and I heard Doc Janeleave earlier—she’s at the clinic, yeah? We can skip First Meal, grab some Arby’s, and go.”
V shook his head in awe. “You complete me.”
“I know. And I had you at Arby’s—although that shit has to level up to get to Taco Bell’s gastric distress standard. I’ll never understand why you eat it.”
“Old habits die hard.” He clicked out of his email, grabbed his phone and texted Tohr. “I’ll let the boys know what we’re doing.”
“I’ll weapon up.”
Butch disappeared back down his hall of fancy-dancies, and it was hard not to thank—well, not the Scribe Virgin because she wasn’t around anymore, and V sure as shit wasn’t going to be grateful to Lassiter for anything other than that fallen angel moving out of the mansion…
Fine, he’d just thank the Creator for having that male in his life.
With that thought, V stood up and began gathering some hand-rolleds and—
With a frown, he leaned down to the monitor. TheCaldwell Courier Journal’s website was a subscription service he disdainfully paid six bucks a month for, and he’d been trying to figure out how to cancel the goddamn thing. For all his IQ, he couldn’t remember the email address he’d used to create the account eight years ago, or what credit card he’d put in, and with the password lost inside his computer somewhere, it was just too fucking much work to either break into the stupid site itself and cut the vampire charge or go into the weeds of his absolutely-not-an-Apple tower to track the account shit down.
Plus all he really read the thing for was the relationship advice column—not because he cared about the stupid crap the humans wrote in about, but because he enjoyed crafting responses in his head that were considerably more direct.
But as he bent over and reread theCCJ’s splash page, for once he wasn’t focusing on the annoying monthly bill or the Ann Landers stuff.
He was looking at an article about that break-in he’d seen on the news when he’d been with the Jackal in the training center’s cafeteria.