Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13809.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      X-Men_(Movies), X-Men_-_All_Media_Types, X-Men_Origins:_Wolverine_(2009)
  Relationship:
      Victor/Logan/Remy
  Character:
      Wolverine_(Logan), Sabretooth_(Victor_Creed), Gambit_(Remy_LeBeau)
  Additional Tags:
      Double_Penetration, Prostitution, Dubious_Consent, 1930s, Sibling_Incest,
      Incest, Rentboys
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-11-16 Words: 4996
****** No Business like Show Business ******
by Ponderosa
Summary
     No one batted an eye in this quarter for the familiar hand Victor
     kept low on Remy's back.
Notes
     Origins movieverse. Alternate timeline in the sense that Remy is
     alive in the 30s.
They hadn't been picky which company they fought with so long as the uniform
was Allied, but they'd ended the tour in Mons with a group of boys from back
home who'd volunteered to fight.
Logan had expected to stay in Europe for a while. Armistace or not, plenty of
messes still needed cleaning. It came as a surprise when it'd been Victor who'd
brought up the notion of heading back across the pond to return victorious with
the Corps.
It was February now, well into a whole new decade and bitter with cold. Logan'd
had his fill of looking for work wherever a strong back was needed. Victor
earned his share, but he came and went as he pleased from the small flat they
rented. The only schedule he kept centred around always being up before the
dawn and coming home late. Years of peace had brought back the edges of
Victor's restlessness and Logan knew better than to poke his nose where it
didn't belong. There were some questions he didn't want answers for.
What he did want to know is where Victor was so keen on taking him now. "Where
are we going?"
"Patience, little brother."
"It's colder than a nun's tits. I'm outta patience." Logan flipped up the
collar of his wool coat and blew warmth into his cupped hands. This is why
they'd gone south in the first place--to escape the harsh of winter for a
while. Looking back, that was sixty years ago. Winter hadn't gotten any kinder.
Victor seemed oblivious to the weather, intent on something else, like they
were tracking down prey instead of slogging down a busy city street. A newsboy
barreled into Logan, the bump too clumsy to be a pickpocket. Logan grabbed him
by the scruff of his coat and righted him with a warning to be careful.
A few steps ahead, Victor's dark chuckle sent Logan's hackles rising.
"What?" he challenged, but Victor ignored him and led them off the main
boulevard.
"You need to have a bit of fun," Victor said. Dirty snow crunched underfoot,
fresh flakes drifting down to try and turn it white again.
"Is that what this is? Fun?" Logan knew where they're going now. The scatter of
folks braving the cold were mixed but mostly working class, and it was clear on
the faces of the men which fellas just got paid.
"Almost all the picture shows have sound now." Victor didn't weave through the
crowd, the crowd parted, melted from his path without seeming to realise how
they reacted to his presence. "Isn't that something, Logan?"
Logan grudgingly agreed. Although nothing would beat that first visceral thrill
of seeing flickering pictures come to life.
At the entrance to a place called the Star, Victor stopped to talk to one of
the kids lurking around. The kid--couldn't be more than fifteen--kept his head
down for the most part, ratty cap and scraggly hair obscuring most of his face.
He took a few coins from Victor and hurried to the box office. He waved the
tickets when they were in hand and waited by the door. Through his hair, his
eyes flashed, and what Logan had first thought were the shadows of little sleep
or bruises showed too dark for that, a flare of unnatural red hiding amongst
the black.
"Victor?"
"Sharing the wealth." Victor's grin showed just a hint of teeth as he clapped
Logan on the shoulder. "C'mon. It's warm inside, at the least."
The kid led them to three seats against the wall and Victor removed his gloves,
coat, and scarf before claiming the centre. Logan's stomach turned oddly
jittery as he followed suit and took the seat to Victor's right. Rarely did his
brother show charity, but if the kid was a mutant like them, that had a chance
at explaining it.
Victor leaned close to Logan. The heat of his breath stirred the hair curled
behind Logan's ear. "Settle down and enjoy yourself," he said. His mouth
hovered close for just a heartbeat too long.
Heat lanced through Logan, and he knew the spike in his pulse wouldn't go
unnoticed. Victor sat back and failed to call him on it. The flash of
embarrassment-fuelled adrenaline bled out of Logan as he paid attention to the
flicker of the screen.
He didn't waste his payday on shows or cathouses. A few drinks in a quiet
corner were more his style. He could get used to this too easily, get lost in
lives that weren't his own. And somehow in the shades of grey, in the dark of
the theatre, things were a little too beautiful, soft-edged and perfect.
Victor's shift closer snapped him out of the thrall. Logan's gaze slid from the
film, jumped back when Victor's mouth drew near his cheek, lips brushing
slightly. "Enjoying yourself?" Victor asked, the rough whisper dragging a
tingle up his spine like electricity.
"Well enough."
"Good." Victor stayed close this time, his shoulder resting firm against
Logan's.
The talkie failed to draw him in again. He watched the pictures move and the
sounds were a wonder, but not enough that they didn't begin to jangle against
his ears and degrade in time into nothing but noise. The musty air carried the
scent of Victor so close and immediate that he overwhelmed Logan's senses, and
it wasn't until the kid made a sound that Logan remembered there was someone
else within reach.
Something stirred in Logan's gut, visceral and hungry and it was then that he
clued in on the rhythmic rasp of a hand moving on denim. He turned and found
Victor already watching him, a harsh glint of light caught in Victor's steady
gaze.
"What're you-"
Victor silenced him with a snarl. "Having some fun."
Logan looked across Victor's lap past where the kid's hand, pale and slender,
stroked over the worn fabric of Victor's workclothes. Victor had a hand on the
kid's skinny neck, fingers strong enough to snap the kid's spine held there
loosely. Logan inched forward instinctively, stopped only by the sudden, rough
drag of Victor's tongue at the hinge of his jaw.
"Hate being left out, don't you, little brother."
"He's just a kid."
"And so were you, first time we hid ourselves away in the servant's quarters
and felt each other through our smallclothes." Victor licked him again, tongued
at the lobe of his ear and Logan made the same strangled sound as the kid, only
he wasn't the one feeling the bite of claws.
"What do you say to making a dollar?" Victor didn't stop nosing at Logan's neck
as the kid's head jerked up, his eyes bright and glowing in the dark of the
theatre. Teeth grazed the skin just above Logan's collar, followed by the warm
gust of Victor's breath as he added, "What's your name?"
"Remy."
"A dollar for your time, Remy."
"Both of you, sers?" His hand never stopped moving, squeezing along the fat
bulge of Victor's cock. When his palm curved over the length, fingers straying
a little too close to the fold of a pocket, Victor clucked his tongue and
clamped a hand down over Remy's.
"A dollar's a generous amount of money." Victor's voice had lowered to a purr,
the vibration of it sunk into Logan's skin. Logan knew he should object, but
his tongue stayed thick and silent in his mouth. "Especially for a freak."
It seemed like the red of the kid's eyes sparked brighter, but Logan couldn't
be sure. Damn Victor and his penchant for playing with fire.
"I don't think this is a good idea," Logan spoke up, finally. He twisted away
from Victor and stood, gathering his coat and scarf.
"The hotel across the way will have rooms," Remy said in a hushed and hurried
whisper.
Victor's gaze speared Logan. "Your call, baby brother. If it's only one of us,
I'll need to get my money's worth."
Logan didn't have a stake in this. What did it matter to him if some delinquent
scrounged up free tickets to shows and some extra cash by whoring out his
scrawny body. Remy's choices were his alone, and if he was fool enough to go
with Victor, the consequences rested entirely on his own pretty little head.
As Logan drew on his coat, Victor caught his arm. "Won't be the same without
you." The gleam in his eyes brightened as he drew Logan's hand towards his
mouth, bit lightly at the knuckle of Logan's forefinger, top row of teeth
nudging between ridges of bone. The hot prick of claws pushed through the
sleeve of Logan's coat.
Boys at the late night lunch counters or women at the gambling halls, what
Victor did with his spare time wasn't Logan's concern any more than whether or
not Remy would wise up and back out of the deal.
"Go have your fun," Logan said, and threads tore as he jerked his arm from
Victor's grasp.
Victor's shrug was effortless, water off his back, and he turned smoothly to
Remy. He gripped the boy's chin, coaxed him into a lewd kiss. The soft sucking
sound of it didn't clear out of Logan's head until he was back out in the cold
and a block away. He shoved his hands deep in the pocket of his coat and made
the mistake of glancing back.
The kid looked so very slight next to Victor's bulk. Victor led him like a lamb
towards the doors of the hotel where the warm light of the lobby spilling onto
the pavement made it no less gaudy than the bulbs dotting the front of the Star
Theatre. No one batted an eye in this quarter for the familiar hand Victor kept
low on Remy's back.
"God damn it." Logan felt his hands turn to fists, and he spat into the snow
sloped against dirt-crusted brick.
The bellhop at the door propositioned him, and Logan convinced the boy with a
hard look to give up the room number. He spared a few pennies for the boy along
with a warning about the kind of games Victor liked to play. If the bellhop
listened, or if he even cared, the coin would keep him quiet and not waggling
his tongue to the law. Victor was still his brother, and they watched out for
each other. The last thing they needed was to skip town for something as
avoidable as a call from an inspector of the Morality Department.
Sharply, Logan rapped his knuckles the door of room 309. Muffled by heavy wood
and thick walls, it was only through the benefit of his keen hearing that he
caught Victor telling the kid it was all right. Remy opened the door with
caution, the first smart thing Logan'd seen him do. Damn but Victor hadn't
wasted any time.
Remy's coat had been stripped from his shoulders, left in a crumple a few steps
in the room. His hair was pulled back, the bulk of it held in a low knot to
keep it from hiding his eyes.
"Prettier in the light, ain't he."
"Can't argue with that."
Logan found himself grabbing the kid's shoulder, pulling that warm and willing
body a little closer as he kicked the door shut with his heel and flipped the
lock. Shirtfront open like a curtain, Victor rose from his perch at the edge of
the low bed. His fly was peeled open, cock exposed and hanging thick over the
open buttons. Logan tore his eyes away from watching it stiffen to run his gaze
over Remy's face.
"I can service you both. Same time, p'haps," Remy said under his scrutiny. Kid
didn't know that'd been decided the moment he'd opened the door.
Victor muscled up behind Remy, set his hand over the kid's other shoulder. His
fingers fanned over the cheap cotton of Remy's shirt, claws extending to curl
and press indents into the fabric. "Same time suits me just fine," he said,
using a single careful clawtip to drag open the front of Remy's shirt and
expose the smooth skin of his chest. Logan could feel the kid's heartbeat
thrumming in the air, fast and fluttering like bird wings.
"Just fine," Logan echoed, and he didn't need to meet Victor's gaze to get hard
from the smouldering heat of it.
Turned out Remy was the sort to get off on the attention. He lifted an arm to
curl behind Victor's head and leaned back against Victor's chest, body bending
lithe. Pliable, Logan thought, muscles of his face twitching involuntarily as
he scented Victor's pleasure. Remy turned his face to nuzzle at the shadow of
Victor's underarm, draw in the scent of Victor's body hot with lust.
Remy's heavy-lashed eyes tracked Logan, teased with a flicker of a smile on his
mouth. Enjoy the view, his eyes said, and as Logan shrugged off his coat, he
drank his fill of watching Victor stroke a hand along the kid's side like he
was calming an animal.
An animal that didn't comprehend what they were capable of.
The kid's shirt had survived the brief touch of Victor's claws, but it tore at
the seams under Logan's grip, and Remy's eyes blazed wide before Logan took the
kid's mouth with his own. The sharp sound of surprise melted under the hard
push of his tongue, and he could taste Victor's sweat in Remy's mouth, could
taste the hint of Victor's kiss, too. Logan surged forward, pinned the kid
between them to suck that taste straight off Remy's tongue. He groaned, fists
tightening in Remy's shirt, knuckles so close to the kid's ribs that he could
feel the sharp push of claws inching into his hands.
The pain that rocked through him when Victor took handfuls of his hair and
forcibly held him to the kiss nearly did him in. As it was, his hands shook and
his bones screamed as he flattened his palms to Remy's chest, felt that
tremulous heartbeat skitter straight into his skin.
"We'll pay you double," Logan said, forcing back against the hold Victor had on
him. Victor didn't approve, but Logan wasn't going to argue the point. He
grabbed the kid by the waist and lifted him up like he weighed nothing. "You're
going to earn it."
Victor's warning growl warmed into a laugh and he yanked at Remy's trousers
while Logan held him inches off the ground.
"Not s'rough," Remy protested, squirming uselessly between them. His hands
clamped to Logan's arms, legs flailing as Victor stripped him bare from the
waist down. Still, he wasn't struggling to get away, and that only got Logan
hotter. Victor liked chasing 'em down. Logan preferred the moment they knew
they were done for.
Logan felt the darker edges of his lust ripple in his guts as Remy tensed,
muscled snapped taut. His bony knees drew up to hook around Logan's hips, but
Victor caught Remy first, hands seizing the kid's legs and sliding up to cup
his ass and cradle the weight Logan shoved at him. "Don't worry," Logan said,
"I'll open you up slow." His fingers brushed past Victor's as he sought out the
damp heat of the kid's hole.
"Shhhh," Victor breathed, his lips at Remy's ear. He shifted his grip to force
Remy's legs to splay wider yet. "Better him than me."
"Had you been planning to grease him up?" Logan looked past Remy as he undid
his belt. A few slow tugs to his cock took the edge off and he ran his fingers
over the the hot clench of Remy's hole once more. Logan let his hand linger
there as his other stretched out to find the trail of hair low on Victor's
belly. He scratched his nails down through the hair to the thicker patch
curling tight at the base of Victor's cock. "I'm not having him dry."
"Knew you wouldn't." Victor nosed aside a stray strand of hair to press a
deceptively soft kiss to Remy's neck. His fangs showed for just a moment as he
lifted a smile to Logan. "In my left pocket."
Logan didn't go digging straight off. He buried his fingers in Victor's pubic
hair and tugged hard. Blood surged and flesh jumped and Logan moved in to claim
another kiss from Remy as he slowly unfurled his hand, fingers spreading wide
around the thick root of his brother's cock.
"My brother's hungry for you," Victor said, and Remy made a soft mewling sound
straight into Logan's mouth that just upped the ante. "He always likes the
pretty ones the best."
Tongue urging Remy's mouth to open wider, Logan tipped his head to make the
kiss a little wetter. He jacked Victor slowly, palm cupped around the shaft of
his brother's cock to angle it upwards, brush the leaking tip over the soft
curve of Remy's ass.
"Ooh, you're trying my patience, little brother." Victor rocked his hips into
Logan's grip. His mouth left flushed, spit-wet marks along the slope of Remy's
shoulder, and for a second Logan thought about what'd it be like to suck a
startled cry of hurt off Remy's sweet tongue.
He turned his mouth away from Remy's to breathe unfettered. Victor caught him
in a kiss before he could take a proper lungful, and the sharp electric shock
of it buckled his legs. After all this time, all these years, the rough scrape
of Victor's tongue on his still undid him. He snarled into the kiss, felt Remy
tense up between them again like the kid finally got a whiff of the danger in
the air, and Logan kissed back with a furious lash of his tongue as he pulled
Victor's pocket inside out.
The tiny jar of petroleum jelly fell into his palm. His fingers curved around
the smooth edges as Victor snarled right back, bit hard at his lip to spill
blood down his chin and lick it away with one wide swipe of his tongue. Victor
hauled his head back, looked down at Logan and didn't even register the wide-
eyed shock of the kid's blazing red eyes as they jumped between the healing
bite and Victor's fangs. "Now I'm really losing my patience," Victor said,
voice coarse as sandpaper as the muscles of his neck jumped. He cracked his
neck and gave Remy a kiss on the cheek that left a ruddy smear of Logan's blood
behind.
"Sorry, kid," Logan said. He wasn't very, and was even less so when he
unscrewed the small jar with his thumb and flicked the lid away to clatter to
the floor. The jelly was bodywarm as he dipped his fingers in, smeared it
without finesse over Victor's dick and his own. He left enough to grease Remy
up inside and out, the oily mess of it making the first push of a finger up
into Remy easy as a dream.
"Slow," Remy pleaded, and Logan did his very best to heed the note of panic in
the kid's tone.
Victor wasn't so kind. "Hush," he murmured, and sounded not the least bit
soothing.
"Slow," Logan said. "I promise." He kept his word though it strained him to do
it. Victor's hands were poised on the soft inner flesh of Remy's thighs, his
claws menacingly close to turning muscle into wet ribbons.
He wouldn't, Logan trusted, but the potential was there like a dark, crackling
cloud in the room.
"You're doing good." Logan drew his forefinger free from the sucking heat of
Remy's body and pushed in with his middle. He alternated fingers until the
slick muscle of Remy's hole grew accustomed to the intrusion, started to
anticipate the blunt press of Logan's fingertip and just opened right up. In no
time he had two fingers sliding deep and stroking Remy on the inside.
"S'good, ser." Remy's eyes had slid shut, his slender cock jutting up stiffly
to rest against his flat belly, and Logan basked in the pleasure that came off
of him in waves. "So very good."
"That's right, and it's gonna get better." Logan kept one hand pushing up into
Remy and one hand on Victor. He found a rhythm for the both until the looseness
of Remy's boneless sprawl in Victor's arms was echoed in the softly twitching
muscle of his hole. He could take Victor without so much as a squeal now, but
it wasn't enough and even Logan's restraint wore thin. With slippery fingertips
he guided Victor's cock to nudge against Remy's hole.
"Soft and wet as a cunt," Victor said. He hitched Remy's weight up and Logan
fumbled to catch Remy's legs under the knees before Victor could just drop the
kid onto his dick and split him open.
"Not gonna go the way you want if he breaks," Logan warned. Victor tongued the
point of a tooth and sucked in a whistling breath.
"Ain't no one breaking me," Remy said.
Victor chuckled, indulgent as he nosed at Remy's jaw. "Cross my heart," he
said, and Logan didn't have the faintest why that'd placate Remy but it did the
job and the kid craned his neck to accept a surprisingly slow kiss from Victor.
Logan delivered Remy's weight back into Victor's arms. He shoved Remy's shirt
open entirely and lowered his mouth to drag his lips over smooth ripples of
muscle. Remy was lean as a hound, and ticklish in a few places, Logan
discovered. He grinned against the kid's chest as his fingers resumed their
work, feeling first the way Victor stretched him open before coaxing just a
little more out of him.
"Non... non et non," Remy breathed. His words slurred against Victor's lips
with no conviction. "I can't."
"You can," Logan assured him. He already had a finger pushed in tight beside
his brother's cock, and he knew with a certainty that made his bones hum that
it would be a matter of minutes before Remy could take so much more. "You're
doing so good, just a little more."
Sweat broke out on the flat planes of Remy's chest. Logan guessed he might be
ready as the strained muscle that grasped his fingers gave just a touch more.
He granted the kid plenty of time to adjust despite, and Victor made pleased
sounds as Logan licked a path across Remy's chest. Salt met his tongue as he
sucked at one tight nipple and traced a sloppy wet line to the other, nipped
and felt Remy shudder in Victor's arms. Logan groaned and wriggled his tongue
under Remy's arm, forced a gasp and squirm out of him as his tongue found the
damp, musky curls.
When he kissed Victor again, Logan's tongue was saturated with the heady taste
of Remy's sweat. "So good," he said again. He pushed in, hand holding his cock
stiff to force the angle and earn the warmth that Remy's body grudgingly gave.
Victor's grin crushed against Logan's mouth, teeth clicking as all three of
them gasped for breath. Remy shivered between them liked the sensory overload
was putting him in shock, but he didn't lose consciousness. His panting breaths
puffed soft against Logan's skin as he rested his forehead against the column
of Logan's neck.
"Too much," he stuttered, looping his arms around Logan. But he shifted his
hips and groaned at the fraction of an inch that the move earned Logan.
Something in Logan felt that it wasn't enough, that he wanted to pry his
fingers inside again, feel the tight grind of his cock and Victor's as Remy's
body sheathed them both. He grabbed for the heavy denim of Victor's trousers
instead, found a grip on the taut muscles of Victor's legs and felt the
rippling echo of his slow thrust pass through both Remy and Victor's bodies.
Victor threw his head back, mouth open like any second his howling would split
the air. Logan never knew if it did, the roar of blood in his ears and the
desperate clutch of Remy's arms enough to blind him to everything else save the
hot slide of his cock against Victor's. So different than holding each other
trapped in a fist or even pushing in to an accommodating woman. Remy surrounded
them, they surrounded him, and Logan saw red before he came. His jaw clenched
tight as his spunk shot deep inside the kid, so deep there was no wet trickle
to drip down Victor's cock even when Logan slipped out, dizzied and gasping.
"Love it when you lose it first," Victor said. His eyes were full of diamonds
again, hard-edged and glittering. He shoved forward, forced Logan's back up
against the door--Christ, he'd never made it more than two steps in--and Remy's
soft cock crushed against Logan's belly. Air licked cool against a smear of
wetness on Logan's skin and he looked down shocked to find that the kid had
lost it too.
Victor let Remy's legs drop to the floor and it was only Logan's hands on him
that kept him standing.
"You okay, kid?" he asked.
Remy nodded, an oddly secretive smile curving his mouth before he buried his
face against Logan's chest again. "Just...don't let go, Logan."
Wrapping his arms around Remy, Logan's hold felt as weak as the kid's kittenish
grip, but his muscles obeyed as the harsh snap of Victor's hips sent shockwaves
through Remy's body. Victor fucked him good and hard, held him by the hips to
hammer in and fill the room with the vulgar slap of skin and wet sucking
sounds.
Victor's mouth closed on Logan's forearm, bit hard enough to tear a piece free.
Logan's claws tore through his knuckles, his hand closing in a crushing grip on
Remy's shoulder. Bone retracted slowly, and he shoved Victor back with a sharp
warning.
Victor spit out the chunk of Logan's flesh and wiped his mouth. He spun away,
his cock spent and wet, and Logan forced Remy to arm's length to check for any
damage. Victor's claws had left bright red scratches on Remy's hips, but
nothing worse. Still, those didn't knit themselves up like the muscles of
Logan's arm.
"My money," Remy said as he slid into a puddle at Logan's feet. Logan did up
his trousers, his heart twisting under his ribs, but in a startlingly short
span of seconds Remy was pulling himself together. The kid found his trousers
and dragged them on.
"Not sure if I'm done with you." Victor whirled around again, his hand on his
cock, thumb and forefinger pinched along the length and pulling savagely. He'd
be hard again in no time, but they'd had their fun. Enough was enough. Logan
held out an arm, hand closing into a fist.
"Victor, step off."
Not seeming to care about the ruined seams of his shirt, Remy did up the
buttons. He let loose his hair and grabbed a handful of Logan's pants to haul
himself to his feet. In their own way, the kid's eyes were no less greedy and
vicious than Victor's. "Pay up, mon ami. Ain't got it in me for more
horseplay."
"Think I'll be the judge of that." Victor pulled a tight roll of bills out of
his pocket and tossed it across the room like a dare. He was blind to Logan
now, stalking forward, claws out like scythes.
Remy braced himself in the tight corner of the entryway with one hand on the
door. Logan stood between them, claws snapped out. Two dollars wasn't worth
dying for, but Remy stayed frozen where he was.
"Victor!"
Victor's gaze stayed pinned on Remy. "Keep breathing and you'll walk out of
here with more than a couple bucks."
The bottom dropped out of Logan's stomach. This wasn't going to end well.
Behind him, he heard Remy say, "Deal."
He had only an instant to register the building glow and the cocky smile on the
kid's face before the force of the explosion sent him straight into Victor.
Logan's vocal chords healed up first. He turned his head to fix a lidless gaze
on the bloody mess of Victor slumped nearby, dead centre in a wide fan of
debris. His brother's pockets were turned inside out, wristwatch absent from
the shredded mess of his arm, and Logan knew he didn't fare much better.
Snow blew in from the open window as he staggered over to his coat. Logan shook
off the splinters and plaster dust and stiffly pulled it on. "I'm getting sick
of winter."
When Victor's throat grew back, he gurgled a wet laugh. He stood slowly, broken
bones twisting back into place under his skin. He kicked a fallen chair out of
the way to join Logan at the open window. "Time to head south for a while?
Heard you can buy a drink again without dodging the law."
Logan bunched up Victor's coat and thrust it at him. Outside in the snow, the
tracks went west. "Kid played us."
"That he did." Victor ducked through the window. The fire escape groaned under
his weight. He stuffed his hands in his coat and looked westward, a fierce
smile building up to bare his teeth. He paused, grin fading, and pulled a pair
of dollar bills from his pocket. He stared at the money for a moment before
slapping the bills into Logan's hand.
"Worth every dime, little brother," he said, and threw his head back to laugh.
He swung over the railing to drop the forty feet to the ground below. The small
cluster of people who had gathered to see what the commotion at the hotel was
all about scattered like birds. He waited for Logan to land beside him before
starting down the street.
Logan aimed a questioning look at Victor. The sharp scent on the wind said the
kid hadn't gotten far. "You're gonna let it go?"
"You're not?" Victor asked, archly, and slung an arm over Logan's shoulder.
"South it is."
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