Exton

The aftermath of the rage is still with me when we get back to the Lodge. It's not like Rath deserved any better, and he can thank his brother that his current address isn't a vacuum cleaner bag. Nor do those that I've killed - or contributed to their deaths - weigh on my conscience. They deserved to die, often in a more spectacular and painful fashion than anything I could inflict.

It's the rage itself that bothers me. It's always there, simmering just below the surface, often with no object, no focus. I go berserk when I'm fighting, the rage somehow all mixed up with bloodlust, and I worry - in my saner moments - what would happen if I found a friend in my path? Would I know them, or would the rage strike out at friend and foe alike?


Raina smiles as I unlock the door, then wave her inside. "Thank you," she says. "Such a gentleman - to me." She looks serious for a moment, then grins. "Hard to believe you're the same guy who beat Rath into a paste. Too bad Adrian stopped you from killing the little bastard. He's going to cause trouble down the road - I know it."

"Like Star knows things?"

"No, nothing like the way Star knows things; I just know his kind. One day someone is going to have to take him down, and preferably sooner rather than later. So - " her smile is radiant. "what would the hero of the hour like for his reward?"

I smile, showing just the tips of my fangs - and nothing of my mounting uneasiness. "I think I'll leave that up to you; I'm sure you can come up with something."