The slayers of the Lessening Society are stronger than ever, preying on human weakness to acquire more money, more weapons, more power. After avoiding war with the Shadows, alliances have shifted and lines have been drawn. The buzz was not bad, either.Nothing is as it used to be for the Black Dagger Brotherhood. “Now, you want to try this again?” V muttered as he licked his arm clean and tasted bitterness. And yup, from a clinical standpoint, it was a sad commentary on the SOB’s state that a stimulant like cocaine was bringing him down. Then he fell back against the hospital bed like he had a broken leg and his morphine drip had finally kicked in. Assail took that shit like a pile driver, snorting half up one nostril, half up the other. “Allow me, motherfucker.” Twisting the black top off, V turned the little brown bottle over and made a line down the inside of his own forearm. Dayum, as the poor bastard reached out, it was clear that Assail’s hands were shaking too badly for him to hold on to anything. “And he doesn’t even deny how much he needs it,” V murmured as he approached the bed. Without her, he’d be walking that stretch of gnawing and ever-empty still. But V knew what that was like-how you needed the very burn you didn’t want, how it became all you could think of, how you withered from the not having of it. “Mmm?” It was pathetic the way the fucker’s eyes latched on and bugged out. “Looking for this?” V held up a vial full of powder and tilted the thing back and forth, all tick-tock. have you ever watched twelve straight hours of Saved by the Bell? Okay, fine, it was probably only seven, and it wasn't like I couldn't have left-my God, I tell you, though, it's a wonder I escaped with my ability to put my pants on one leg at a time still intact. you think to yourself, Is that really the best the Creator could do with an immortal? The guy has the worst taste in television-I mean, the only saving grace is that he isn't addicted to Bonanza. 'Cept he doesn't smell like strawberries, he hogs the T.V. He's like gum on the bottom of your shoe. Anyway, Lassiter's a fallen angel who we've somehow gotten stuck with.
"I gotta remember that, gotta remember that. And all those other bad words." He poked himself in the head. "Yeah, he's this pain in the ass-oh, shit-I mean, sorry, I shouldn't say ass around you, should I? Or shit. Unless you're around Lassiter, and that's more of a mental thing than anything about cellular networks." And my brother Vishous made sure we have the best reception and service in the city.
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