Monday, 7 February 2011

Bluebooking: Lee

Bentley licked the slick ooze of blood from her wrist. She looked down and forced the pink gum out into a bubble. Letting it pop, she lightly pushed his head away.

Sit. Good. Good boy.

Fuckin dress. Fuckin Carl. Like I’d been on one of those makeover shows. Shit bloody Gok Wan.  Don’t know what that pretty boy sees in him. Don’t know what either of ‘em see in dressing like someone’s grandma.  Couldn’t move in a skirt that long.  Which really was a problem once we’d got under the city.

 Now that was interesting. 

Lee mentally checked through the array of faces, attitudes, voices she’d encountered that night, trying to make sense of the stuff they’d spouted. 

Give me raw, stinking fear over words and face and not much besides any day. Yeh, the evening certainly got better after the party.

Reaching into her pocket she unrolled a grimy scrap of paper, revealing a smudged line of symbols and numbers.

Can’t Google a symbol can you?

Bentley looked at her blankly.

Right. Maybe one for the fuckin Scooby gang. That Karen might know about it, she’s certainly got a brain on her.

Lee unlocked the back door and went out to the pens.  The dogs were active, alert at her approach.

Rigby and Dimitri seemed to have things sussed, despite squalling like a pair of toothless puppies. And Baz. Face like fuckin dog food, but he had my back. Maybe this coterie thing isn’t a bad idea after all. Not a whiff of an Alpha about the lot of them though.


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