A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed! (: I really appreciate it. So, if you have time, let me know what you think. Please and thank you. This chapter focuses more on Max and Thorn, in the next one I shall return to David and Marko's POV. Hope you like it!
Chapter 3: A Dog's Life
Thorn growled irritably. Max looked up from his chosen book and cast an uninterested glance in his hell hound's direction, stupid dog, he muttered to himself, returning his attention back to his book. Thorn looked at Max, as though he had understood, heck, he probably had, and snarled, his muzzle drawing back to display rows of jagged teeth. Max sighed again, "don't start with me Thorn. You aren't getting anything; it'll spoil your appetite. We've had this argument enough times."
Thorn snarled again, clearly hoping to change Max's mind.
"Thorn." Max said, warningly, "stop it, you'll scare our guests."
Max looked skywards, knowing that the room in which David and Marko were staying, was directly above his living room. He had put David's mother into the room opposite, best to keep her separate anyway. Seeing no signs of life- well it was pretty late- Max settled back again, Thorn really was too much sometimes, he took his job way too seriously; Max wondered more often than not if he didn't give the hound enough holidays.
Thorn, knowing he was fighting a losing battle; lay down. If a dog could have an expression, Thorn's would most definitely be bored; evidently he did not care for human guests. His reaction had said as much, when Max had introduced them, Thorn had behaved inappropriately, considering it wasn't day-light. That dog needed to compose himself; he'd give them away, if he wasn't more careful.
There was a slight thud from upstairs, and all thoughts about Thorn were forgotten from Max's mind. He hadn't been all that sure about inviting humans into his home, but he knew that if he wanted to turn David and Marko, he'd have to learn to trust them a little, although he thought, not too much. He still had to come up with a solution to the mother though, perhaps he could kill her and fake it as a drug overdose, or something to that effect. He wondered how David would react if...when, his mother died. It would be a strike against David, if he did care too much, but Max was sure David was not soft, which was essential for this to work. He could not have sensitive boys in his family, he would not allow it.
Max thought back to his first kill, the taste of blood is never quite the same after the first. Each time you would try to recapture that first feeling of euphoria, but it never emulated the initial feeling of elation and rapture. Perhaps that was a story he would share with David one day...and what a tale it was. But for now, he'd test both the boys and see how they measured up.
Satisfied he'd decided on a course of action, he put the book down on the small oak coffee table which adorned the centre of the room.
"Fancy a walk, Thorn?"
The hound lifted his head and almost smiled; a walk was what Max called it, but it was something else entirely. Well, Thorn was hungry.
Stretching unnecessarily, Thorn ambled to his feet and trotted to his "master's" side. How Thorn hated calling Max his master. It amused Max greatly.
Max reached for a leash and moved towards Thorn. Thorn eyed it and backed away, his eyes plainly read, never ever, not happening.
Laughing, Max grabbed Thorn's collar, "you know you have to wear it. It's a human rule."
Thorn eyed Max again, this time saying, yes, but we aren't human!
"We've got to remain inconspicuous. So shush, or you won't be getting anything."
Whimpering melodramatically, Thorn allowed Max to clip the leash to his collar. The collar was bad enough, in his opinion, not that anyone, especially not Max, cared. Such irksome things, all they did was throttle you! Thorn would really have loved to savage whoever had come up with the concept, sadly, however, Max forbade any savaging, unless strictly necessary. It didn't happen very often, now and then someone would work out what Max was, come looking for him, and Thorn would get the teeniest chance to rough them up. But it wasn't nearly enough.
Still, he'd get the leftover blood from Max. That was the purpose of these "walks," sure Thorn could eat dog food, but it so wasn't the same. Max stood up and pulled the leash after him, chuckling at Thorn's warning growl, don't push it buddy.
Max had told the boys that he would head out often at night, and to not look for him during the day, as he worked. But Max was not comfortable with these arrangements, and nor was Thorn. It was quite possible that they would not head his warnings and that could end in an unfortunate accident- something Max wished to avoid, and something Thorn hoped for.
I'll have to make a decision as quickly as possible, Max mused, it isn't safe to have them alone in that house; they could get up to anything.
In a round-about-way Max wanted them to; it would prove they had courage but on the other hand, Max liked order and if David and Marko were sticking around, they'd have to follow his rules.
Max chose the beach as his destination, it was nice and quiet, and no one would think it odd, as he was accompanied by a dog, or at least, what looked like a dog. It never ceased to amaze Max at how dim-witted humans could continue to be, everything was right under their noses, but would they blame anything they didn't understand? No! They'd blame it one another instead. Such a lack of faith and loyalty, Max thought despairingly, no wonder they are so low on the food chain. Despite what the humans thought, they were rather low in the pecking order, everything above just chose not to reveal itself; saves them the hassle, through concealment. Although, he conceded, now and then they did slip up, which is where, of course, humans got their ideas for movies and books. They had all the information, yet they dismissed it! Well, they are only human.
Thorn's whining pulled Max out of his reverie, an elderly, homeless man was a few paces away, gazing out at the sea. Max grinned down at Thorn, put a finger to his lips to indicate Thorn was to be silent and obedient. Max strolled past the man, so to not attract attention and to get the opportunity to scrutinise the vicinity and the victim.
Looking up and down the length of the beach and not finding anyone there, Max went in for the kill. Usually, he would string it out, make the suffering last longer; that made it all the more fun, but tonight he was in no mood for games, and was anxious to return. After Thorn had downed the last of the spillage, Max gestured they were to walk to the boardwalk, to survey the crowds, Max liked to keep his eye out for that special lady, in the hope he would stumble across her one day.
Ignoring Thorn's plaintive attempts to roll his eyes, (the hound just couldn't accept that he could not do human emotions, while in dog form) Max dragged him behind his heels, merging into the crowds of the night-life of Santa Carla.
Alas, it was the same as always, and no one out there was quite exceptional enough for Max. Tonight, however, he was not disheartened; now he had a scheme set in motion.
And he was determined to follow it through to the bitter end.
