Page 85 of Freak Camp
But he had to truly understand.He couldn’t just say the words.The Director knew the difference.
“He ...he had to ask permission?”the senator asked.
“Of course.He’s just a freak.You could have made him beg for the privilege, or told him exactly what he should do with his tongue.”
The senator took a hard breath.“Maybe ...maybe next time?”
The Director smiled.“Yes, next time.I’m still waiting for your opinion on the punishment.”
“I think he was good enough that this time ...this time ...”
“This time only,” the Director said smoothly.“That sounds reasonable.But a bit too merciful.Would you mind if I altered that a bit, disciplined him lightly?”
The senator huffed a shaky laugh.“Well, you’re the boss here.You sure seem to know what you’re doing.”
“Thank you.”The Director looked at Tobias.“Tonight you will stay on your knees in the corner, remain silent unless I speak to you, as though you are bound and gagged.If you move, if you make any noise, you will be restrained and I will do what is necessary to educate you.Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
The Director nodded and turned back to the senator.
“The next time you want to threaten the ASC budget, Senator, I want you to remember two things.One”—he gestured at Tobias—“the good work we do here confining, controlling, and training supernaturals to useful tasks.And two”—he pointed toward the ceiling—“that I have video of you with your cock down a monster’s throat.”
Every corner in Freak Camp had its own video camera.Tobias knew that the ones in the Director’s offices were strictly private.
Stupid man, even if he is a real, he thought as the senator gaped at the Director.Fighting only gets you hurt.
***
Jake turned south atTucson, finally getting the sun out of his eyes, easing the dull ache in his head.He was supposed to leave Roger’s that morning, but last night he’d gone into Las Cruces to, for lack of a better excuse, blow off steam.He hadn’t made it back until close to noon, and Roger had bitched him out again about how he’d be no use to Tobias if he smashed up his car and himself on the side of the highway.That was also why days ago Roger had locked up his own liquor and confiscated Jake’s hunting duffel, after the last disastrous attempt at a solo hunt nearly got Jake chewed up by the tiniest werewolf pup he’d ever seen.
Jake knew Roger was right.He was extremely fucked up, and two weeks at Roger’s hadn’t much helped him find his footing.None of that was Roger’s fault.He knew how to kick Jake’s ass better than anyone (well, not as good as—but Jake wasn’t going there).
Twenty minutes later down the highway, he took the exit for Sahuarita.At a gas station, he asked for directions for Iglesia de Gracia y Fe.He stood for a few extra minutes in front of the cooler section, wondering how Alejandra Rodriguez would react to him showing up with a six-pack—then shook himself and turned back to the Eldorado.
When he pulled into the single-story church’s parking lot, there were a few cars already parked.He took the spot closest to the road and exit, then slowly got out of the car, taking an extra moment to stretch and roll his neck while studying the church.It didn’t look like much with its sun-stained adobe walls, lined with scrubby bushes.
He and Leon had never been churchgoers, except to access whatever holy water and other equipment needed to take down whatever demonic ass was giving them trouble that week.Jake only remembered going to a Sunday service a couple of times when Dad had left him with a babysitter whose grandkids were annoying as hell and inclined to snitch.
As he stood staring, a side door opened and a Hispanic woman appeared in the doorway, waving him closer.“You must be Jake.”
He winced, then nodded and slowly crossed the gravel lot to the church.
Alejandra was short and solidly built, a little over five feet, her long black hair pulled back in a smooth ponytail.She wore no makeup, and it was hard to tell her age, apart from the laugh lines creasing the corners of her eyes.
“Call me Alex.”She shook his hand, grip strong and sure, then held the door open wider for him to follow her inside.
She led him to a dining room with several round tables.Crossing to another door, she called, “What can I get you to drink?Iced tea, coffee?”
“Coffee sounds good.”Jake surveyed the room with its mismatched chairs and walls pinned with children’s Sunday school drawings.
She returned with a mug of coffee and a dish of sugars and half-and-half containers, and he shook his head.She lifted her eyebrows.“All right, but it’s bitter as sin, just so you know.”She gestured for him to take a seat at one of the round tables.
Jake took a big swallow and, thanks to his years of intensive training as a hunter, barely avoided making a face.At least not much of a face, as he caught Alex’s grin before she turned back to the kitchen.
She returned with her own coffee mug and set to breaking open and stirring in the half-and-halfs.Jake watched her, blinked, and realized he was close to dozing off.He really should’ve slept more and drank less the night before.Maybe the next few weeks.He took another drink of the coffee and did not wince at all.
He had talked to Alex briefly on the phone back at Roger’s, an awkward get-to-know-you conversation before she agreed to maybe help.Roger had told him she was as solid as they come and had no love for the ASC or organized anything, so he’d told her his real name.Out of years of habit, he’d done it the James Bond way—it’s Hawthorne.Jake Hawthorne—and realized in the next second he never wanted to say it that way again.
