Violets Are Blue (Alex Cross #7)(7)

The cat pounced quickly, its lithe, powerful body moving effortlessly. The young blond male didn't even try to resist.

The tiger's massive jaw opened wide, then clamped down onto the man's head. The cat's jaws were strong enough to pulverize bone.

The man screamed,'Stop! Stop! Stop!'

Amazingly the tiger stopped.

Just like that. On verbal command.

'You win,' the blond man laughed and patted the animal, which released his head.

The man twisted sharply to the left. His movements were almost as quick and effortless as the cat's. Then he pounced. He attacked the tiger's vulnerable creamy-white underside, grabbing onto flesh with his teeth.'Got you, you big baby! You lose. You're still my love slave.'

William Alexander stood off in the distance, watching his younger brother with a mixture of curiosity and awe. Michael was a beautiful man-child, incredibly graceful and athletic, strong beyond belief. He wore a black pocket T-shirt and powder blue shorts. He was already six feet three and a hundred-eighty-five pounds. He was flawless. Both of them were, actually.

William walked away, staring into the distance at the rich, green hills. He loved it out here. The beauty and the solitude, the freedom to do anything he wanted to do.

He was very quiet inside - an art that he was still mastering.

When he and Michael were small boys, this whole area had been a commune. Their mother and father had been hippies, experimenters, freedom lovers, massive drug-takers. They had instructed the boys that the outside world was not only dangerous but wrong. Their mother had taught William and Michael that having sex with anyone, even with her, was a good thing, as long as it was consensual. The brothers had slept with their mother, and their father, and many others in the commune. Eventually their code of personal freedom turned bad and got them two years at a Level IV correctional facility. They had been arrested for possession, but it was aggravated assault that put the brothers behind bars. They were suspected of much more serious crimes, but none could be proved.

As William stared off at the foothills, he marveled at the concept of the unbridled mind. Day by day he left behind the shabby baggage of his past life. Soon he would have no false morals, or ethics, or any of the other bullshit inhibitions taught in the civilized world. He was getting closer to the truth. So was Michael.

William was twenty.

Michael was only seventeen.

They had been killing together for five years, and they kept getting better and better at it.

They were invincible.

Immortal.





Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue





Chapter Eleven


That night, the two brothers hunted in the town of Mill Valley in Marin County. The area was beautiful, small mountains teeming with strapping, healthy evergreen and eucalyptus trees. The redwood house was maybe a hundred yards ahead, up a steep, rocky slope that they climbed with ease. A brick walkway led to an entryway with double wooden doors.

'We have to go away for a while.' William spoke without turning around to Michael. 'We have a mission from the Sire. San Francisco was just the start.'

'That's excellent,' Michael said, and he began to smile. 'I enjoyed what went down there very much. Who are these people, the ones in the big, fancy house?'

William shrugged. 'Just prey. The're nobody.'

Michael began to pout. 'Why won't you tell me who they are?'

'The Sire said not to talk, and not to bring the cat.'

Michael asked no further questions. His obedience to the Sire was complete.

The Sire told you how to think, feel, and act.

The Sire was accountable to no one, to no other authority.

The Sire despised the straight world, as did they.

This definitely looked like the 'straight world'. The large house had all the trappings: gardens tended and watered daily; a small pond filled with koi; several layers of terraces leading up to a large house with over a dozen rooms - for just two people. How obnoxious could anyone be?

William walked right in the front door and Michael followed. The foyer had a twenty-foot ceiling, a ridiculous crystal chandelier, a spiral staircase to heaven.

They found the couple in the kitchen, preparing a late meal, both of them sharing the preparations like the goodie-goodies that they were.

'Yuppies at play,' William said, and smiled.

'Whoa!' the male said, and threw up both of his hands. He was close to six-four and well-built. He was working like kitchen help at the vegetable sink. 'What the hell do you guys think you're doing?Let's take it outside.'

'You're the trouble-making lawyer,'William said, and pointed at the female. She was early thirties, short blond hair, high cheekbones, slender, with small breasts. 'We came for supper.'

'I'm a lawyer, too,' the domineering male said. 'I don't think you two were invited. I'm sure of it. Get out! You hear me? Hey, you assholes, hit the road.'

'You threatened the Sire.'William continued to talk to the female. 'So he sent us here.'

'Arthur I'm going to call the police.'The woman finally spoke. She was upset now, the nubs of her breasts rising and falling against her shirt. She had a small cell phone in her hand and William wondered if she had pulled it out of her ass. The thought made him smile.

He was on her in an instant and Michael took down the husband almost as easily. The brothers were incredibly fast and strong - and they knew it.