Torment by Valerie J. Long

Author:Valerie J. Long [Long, Valerie J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Suspense, GLBT, Lesbian, bisexual
ISBN: 9781771117005
Publisher: eXtasy Books
Published: 2013-10-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Four

If I’d suddenly dropped my clothes and danced on the table, the chins could’ve hardly dropped deeper—an option that I was still left with.

“You’ve already heard of me,” I concluded happily. “So, what about the beer?”

As Mick didn’t look like coming after me right away, I cheekily stepped to the counter. “Oh, that’s bad. I don’t want blood in my beer. Let me see.” Then I took the innkeeper’s hand. He was too startled to refuse.

My healing nano column had no trouble repairing the superficial, even cut. When I took my hand away, there was only a clear red stripe left—he’d keep the scar.

He gave me a questioning glance, and I nodded toward the tap.

Hesitatingly, he reached for a glass, held it under the tap and pulled the large lever.

“But—she’s white!” one of the guests in the background finally said. My Analogy provided me with the exact location and face.

I turned around and focused on the speaker who tried to sink into his chair. “I can assure you—that’s not contagious.”

My smile triggered the first restrained laughter. Mick and his mates relaxed a little.

“What do you want here?” Mick asked.

“Except for the beer, you mean? I want to learn about New York. All of New York, not just Times Square. Or should I say, all except for Times Square?”

Now Mick smiled a bit, too, but I didn’t like his smile. “As a tourist?”

I could smile like him, too, and he liked that even less. But first I took the glass of beer from Ezekiel’s hand, dropped five dollars on the counter, and took a long draft.

“Searching for worthwhile targets and interesting people.”

“How do you define that?”

“Worthwhile targets are those no one else can reach.”

“No, interesting people.”

“Those who have something to say—and who I can turn my back at.”

Thereby I turned my back at Mick and beamed at the innkeeper. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Well.” He raised his hand. “Thanks—but how?”

“I’m Velvet.” As if that would explain anything. “And watch out next time who you sell your beer to.”

Mick cleared his throat, and I turned my front and my attention back to him. “Yes?”

“Now that you’ve come to Harlem, you should visit our Father.”

“Naturally.” If I had a chance to talk to one of the local gangster bosses without starting a war, I just had to take it. “Do you grant me a few minutes to enjoy my beer?”

“Sure. I’ll call a car.”

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