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have any backup, and there could be multiple lessers at the location. You want to risk her getting killed in a botched rescue attempt?"
    "The cop can handle himself."
    "He's good, but he's only a human. We can't send him in there."
    Z bared his fangs. "Maybe Tohr is more worried the guy will get pinched and squeal about us on one of their tables."
    "Come on, Z, Butch knows shit. He knows a lot of shit about us. So of course that's part of it."
    "But if she helped a captive escape, what the hell do you think those lessers are doing to her right now!"
    "If a pack of us go at sundown, we're more likely to get her out alive. You know that. We have to wait."
    Z stood there naked, breathing deeply, his eyes narrow slits of rank hatred. When he finally spoke, his voice was a nasty growl.
    "Tohr better pray to God she's still alive when I find her tonight. Or I will have his fucking head, brother or no brother."
    Phury shifted his eyes to the skull on the floor, thinking that Z had already proven how good he was at decapitation.
    "Did you hear me, brother?" the male snapped.
    Phury nodded. Man, he had a bad feeling about how this was going to play out. He really did.
     

Chapter Six

     
    As O drove his F-150 truck along Route 22, the waning four-o'clock sun stung his eyes and he felt as if he were hungover. Yeah… along with the headache, he had the same body crawls he used to get after a night of boozing, the little tremors flickering just under his skin like worms.
    The long line of regret he was towing behind him also reminded him of his drinking days. Like when he'd woken up next to an ugly woman he despised, but had fucked anyway. The whole thing was just like that… only much, much worse.
    He shifted his hands on the steering wheel. His knuckles were busted open and he knew he had scratches on his neck. As images of the day blinded him, his stomach heaved. He was disgusted by the things he'd done to his woman.
    Well, now he was disgusted. When he'd been doing them… he'd been righteous.
    Christ, he should have been more careful. She was a living thing, after all… Shit, what if he'd gone too far? Oh, man … He should never have let himself do those things. The trouble was, as soon as he'd seen that she'd freed the male he'd brought her, he'd lost it. Just splintered into shrapnel that had torn right through her.
    He lifted his foot from the gas. He wanted to go back and take her out of her pipe and reassure himself that she was still breathing. Except there wasn't enough time before the meeting of the Primes started.
    As he stomped on the accelerator, he knew he wouldn't be able to leave her once he saw her anyway, and then the Fore-lesser would come looking for him. And that would be a problem. The persuasion center was a mess. Goddamn it …
    O slowed and wrenched the wheel to the right, the truck lurching off Route 22 onto a one-lane dirt road.
    Mr. X's cabin, also the Lessening Society's HQ, was smack in the middle of a seventy-five-acre forest, completely isolated. The place was nothing more than a small log setup with a dark green shingled roof and an outbuilding about half the size behind it. As O pulled up, there were seven cars and trucks parked in a loose configuration, all of them domestic, most of them at least four years old.
    O walked inside the cabin and saw he was the last to show. Ten other Primes were packed into the shallow interior space, their pale faces grim, their bodies broad and heavy with muscle. These were the Lessening Society's strongest men, the ones who had been in it the longest. O was the only exception when it came to time served. He had just three years since his induction, and none of them liked him because he was new.
    Not that they got a vote. He was as tough as any Prime and had proved it. Jealous fuckers … Man, he was never going to be like them, just cattle for the Omega. He couldn't believe the idiots prided themselves on their paling out over time and losing their identities.