Erron, though still unconscious from Gordon's whack on the head, lay sprawled across the kitchen floor, but, thankfully, he had a strong steady pulse. With both her guys knocked out, yet alive and safe, she headed over to check on Officer Hurly.
Satisfied that, though unconscious, everyone was alive, she went to secure Gordon. She'd seen enough horror movies to know the madmen always got back up.
A-L-W-A-Y-S.
The only thing she could get her hands on was a roll of duct tape.
Oh, well, beggars couldn't be choosers, and duct tape was a fix-all, she figured as she bound Gordon's hands, feet, and, fuck it all, mouth.
"Geez, what the fuck ran me over?" Erron groaned.
Thankfully, Erron came safely awake, though she worried about the pounding-ass headache he was currently massaging and groaning about. She'd really give a sigh of relief when a hospital check cleared him of any potential concussion or lasting injuries.
More groaning as Marklon came to.
"Erron!" Marklon roared.
"Shh, he's fine, you're fine...we're fine," she reassured as she went to kneel by him and stroke his hair lovingly.
The bear hug he rose up to give her was welcome, but his shaking beneath wasn't. Marklon was rattled. Erron winked at her, proving he truly was fine, but for Marklon? Hell, he'd just had the proverbial family skeletons not only coming out of the woodwork, but attacking him, too.
"Damn, babe. I could have thought of a million other ways you could have introduced me to your family, ya know."
His shaking stopped. He pulled back and had one of those mouth-gaping, shocked type looks on. That "oh, hell, no you didn't" expression was far more welcome than the pasty, shocked look he'd worn moments ago. Her plan had worked.
"Yeah, seriously, dude...you have the mother of all pissy baby brothers!" Erron added.
At their sarcastic remarks, Marklon broke.
Laughing, sobbing, and just generally letting all the shit out.
She knew he needed it. Hell, they all did. They were all way overdue for some unleashing.
* * * * *
When all was said and done, Marklon filled them in on what they hadn't heard in that conversation with the police.
How his brother came to be a sociopath. His father's stroke when he'd discovered the link in the killings via the late arrival of a letter from his mother's parents.
Seemed before Gordon killed them, they had enough insight to send a warning. That though they'd done their best—yeah, right—their grandson carried the same demon within that their daughter had. Too bad it was probably their own feral craziness that pushed both mother and son to the mental instability they exhibited and murderous thoughts they'd acted upon. The nut-ball grandparents feared he would eventually seek retribution from all those he felt had wronged him. Well, they got at least that part right. Vengeance on everyone he blamed for his suffering, from the Mayor, the father who'd abandoned him, to the Mayor's new mistress all the way to the girl who'd had nothing to do with any of it, except the misfortune of working at the Mayor's office.
Apparently, the poor girl had poor judgment in men. Gordon led her on, using her for information on the Mayor until he put his plan into motion. Then she'd become expendable.
Gordon's deep-seated hate for Marklon instigated his killing of Erron's chef in the attempt to hurt those nearest and dearest to him. All they could figure was Gordon had an uber case of older-brother jealousy at what Marklon always had. Namely love and caring, versus the Carrie-like conditions which Gordon had been forced to endure.
Believe it or not, part of Shana pitied him.
He'd been raised to believe he was a demon born from such.
Hopefully, he would be locked away where he couldn't hurt another soul, and they could pick up the pieces and continue on with their life.
* * * * *
"Whatcha thinking about in that pretty head of yours?" Marklon asked as he crawled in bed beside her.
They'd slept through the entire day only leaving the bedroom long enough to scrounge some food before lumbering right back in. Thankfully, they all had decent bosses...well expect Erron. Though he was his own boss, they'd still teased he probably shouldn't call in, as his boss could be rather crabby on occasion.
They'd received one lone call that afternoon from the lead investigator on the case to let them know Gordon, in his madness, had confessed to everything. He had actually bragged about his so-called 'righteous' accomplishments, including the one murder no one had known about up until that point.
His father's.
Shana presumed the Mayor's death could account for the moaning she'd overheard in the background while chained up in the mausoleum.
"Oh, just what are you and Erron are thinking?"
She knew, though, considering Erron's hands were on her shoulders yet something was firmly prodded her rear. If there had been any question, which there wasn't, it would have been answered when Marklon threw a leg over hers and she felt his wood rubbing up against her suddenly waking lady parts.
Encased between the two warm bodies of those she loved more than life itself, Shana knew not only tonight would be a good night, but so would the rest of their lives.
Which would hopefully be nightmare free. Well, it might be if their theory was right and the odd linking between them all was merely Marklon's emotional bond with them and his blood bond with Gordon.
If not, then who knew where life would take them? But, so long as they were together, they'd conquer anything.
Including cannibalistic mad serial killers.
Table for Three-Hold the Blood Page 8