"Death Row 03 - The Avenger" - читать интересную книгу автора (Black Jaid)

Xavier’s eyes flicked over the old man’s face, reading him, assessing him. “A lot,” he said softly. “Not that you would know anything about her, of course.” His eyebrows rose. “Just put the word out.”

At Old Gingus’s nod, Xavier made his way toward stall two. The barkeep was hiding something and just as soon as he finished hunting down Elijah and Kieran with Kerick he’d make a point of finding out what.

He wanted that wench. He wanted her with a fierceness he couldn’t explain.

The skeleton key sank in the hole. Xavier walked into stall two, which contained a small, coarse pillow-bed made from lizard hides, a virtual console with a red ON button, and little else. Discarding his trousers, tunic and cloak, he turned on the power button, snuffed out the cold chamber’s single torch, plopped down onto the bed naked and waited.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

Xavier’s teeth gritted. It was a sad day indeed when a man couldn’t even get some imaginary pussy.

“Come on,” he bit out. “I don’t got all day.” Soon Kerick would come looking for him. His jugular bulged. “Cyrus forsaken piece of shit,” he mumbled. “I—”

He grunted, appeased, when the virtual program flicked on.

“Hello,” a disembodied female voice breathed out.

Xavier frowned. What a cheap piece of junk. He couldn’t see anybody and the breathy voice sounded more the stalking lunatic than an aroused female. “Hello,” he grumbled. Sweet Cyrus this would be the worst fuck ever! “Just get to the good bits. I’m in a hurry.”

The virtual wench either ignored him or wasn’t advanced enough in her programming to respond. What a surprise!

“My name is…”

He winced. Ah gods. She couldn’t even recall her damned name. Old Gingus had rewarded him with a virtual moron.

“My name is…”

His teeth gnashed together. “I don’t care!” he bellowed. “Just get to the good bits!”

“You might try being nice, sir,” the virtual wench softly chastised. “I haven’t been with a man in ages and I’m a little nervous.”

His eyebrows shot up, his expression surreal. He blinked. Kerick had a real wench he could mount day and night. Kieran, when he found his wife again, would have a real wench he too could mount at whim. What did Xavier have? A virtual almost-virgin who couldn’t recall her programmed name and was of a mind to scold him. He sighed. This was just too much. “I’m sorry,” he snapped, exasperated. He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinkin’ talking to an imaginary wench like that.”

“That’s better.”

He grunted.

“Now, where were we?”

“We were getting to the good bits,” he seethed.

“Oh right. My name is…”

Ah gods, they’d never get passed this part!

“Ummm…”

He seized his hair by the roots and pulled tightly.