20. A Conversation for Two

Harlow easily managed to move just enough to avoid getting hit each time the blond-haired human, Dobson Brady, took a swing at him with his baseball bat.

"SEE! Can't fight for shit! Swinging like a fucking nearsighted toddler who can't see the fucking ball."

"I mean, their lack of ability doesn't mean we can't hurt them, right?" Foxx giggled.

The vampire had his hand folded behind his back and was practically skipping backwards, barely looking bothered as the two humans on him tried to whack him with their makeshift weapons. Weapons being a chair leg and a piece of wood with nails in it.

Though the two ‘attacking' Foxx were just as suntanned as the one near him, unlike Dobson, Chance Dillan's hair was brown, while Bob Bigham's was black. All three had white, very stained T-shirts on, a pair of those dumb ripped blue jeans that kids liked to wear nowadays, and what looked like off brand Timberlands.

Harlow was so looking forward to dragging their asses out in the cold fucking rain. Because it was windy, raining, and at most forty outside. He was honestly sort of shocked that Foxx hadn't yet complained about the cold. Though…their conversation had been awkward as fuck on the drive here…

Harlow eyed the vampire. Foxx was wearing a white knitted sweater with strawberries on it, red gloves, red overalls that looked to be made of thick sweater material, and a pair of red boots that had white fur at the top. As the man was looking thicker than he should be, he was pretty sure the vampire had shit on underneath.

Harlow's gaze flicked back to the human he'd been absently dodging. How much to hurt him, was the question, and should he base it on how pissed off he was that there were even here?

"Oh," Foxx exclaimed. "Maybe they just find us too attractive to hurt?" the vampire drawled with a laugh. "Is that it, big boys? Do you find me too cute to hurt?"

Bob's face twisted, and turning red with rage, he bellowed, "You're a fucking fa—" The man's words were cut off on a breathless croak as Foxx, moving so fast Harlow barely followed, had slammed his fist into the man's stomach.

With a smile on his face, Foxx said stiffly, "I don't like that word."

To be honest, as angry as his words had been, the vampire's lopsided smile looked pretty serene. Well, it had, until Bob spurted blood from his mouth and collapsed.

Eyeing the passed-out man, Harlow figured that was his cue to stop fucking around.

"Bloody hell!" Foxx huffed, before whining, "I didn't even hit him that hard!" The vampire hmphed, but then blinked and held his hands out in front of him. "Oh!" Foxx sighed happily. "Good, he didn't get any blood on my jumper!"

"That's good to know, Foxx," he chuckled, before eyeing the other two humans, who'd been so startled by the attack that they now stood frozen, staring at their downed friend.

"I'll take that," Harlow growled as he yanked the bat from Dobson, before promptly slamming it into the man's side.

The human yelled out, doubling over, but the cry was cut off when Harlow swung it at his face. Blood burst from Dobson's nose, and the man fell to the ground.

"If you are going to use something as a weapon, at least learn to fucking use it properly!" He twirled the bat once before turning an evil grin on the last man left standing.

Chance dropped his stick and held his hands out. "I give up!"

"No fun…" Foxx huffed.

Harlow snorted. "No worries, the fun part will come when we drop their asses off with the police who refused to do anything in the first fucking place."

The vampire's head tilted. "Won't they just let them go?"

"Well, if they want to end up in jail themselves…they could, I suppose." Harlow dropped the bat on the grungy carpeted floor and pulled out his zip ties. "Turn around with your hands behind your back, or be prepared to bleed."

Chance spun and did as he was told. But as Harlow was zipping his wrists together, the man cried, "Wait! I think they need to go to the hospital!"

"Not our fucking problem," Harlow chuckled darkly.

* * *

Wrinklinghis nose as a cold droplet landed on it, behind him he dragged the two bloody and bound humans by a leg each towards the police station. "Harlow, if you don't make him move faster, I am going to bite someone. IT'S COLD!" he whined.

His face, and really his whole head, was freezing. He should have put on his new bunny ski mask… But how could he?! It didn't match his current outfit! Ugh, he needed to go on a knitting spree and make ones in different styles and colors, and ughh, it was coldddddd!

"Would you relax, brat! We are literally almost there," Harlow grumbled as he pulled the human, Chance, along.

The dumb fuck man had stumbled a ridiculous amount of times, as if he'd forgotten how to fucking walk. Like, who the hell was he fooling?! The pavement was wet, not iced! Foxx should have punched him too!

"Did you have to park a mile away from the damn station?!" Foxx hissed.

Harlow shrugged. "Sometimes it's best if they don't know we are coming."

"Ah, yes, because we are totally inconspicuous with our three obvious hostages."

"Brat."

"Old man."

Dobson whined. "You broke my nose! I need a doctor!"

"Would you shut up!" Foxx snapped, not bothering to look back.

Fucker had been whining and complaining since he'd woken up in the car. He did glance back at the one he punched. As…that human had not made so much as a peep. Foxx dipped into his powers to take a peek at Bob's threads… Eyeing the swirling glowing white lines, he thought they looked…okay-ish…

It didn't look like he was dying, at least… Eh, it should be fine. Whatever, this is what Bob got for being a horrible person!

He glanced up at the floor to ceiling windows ahead, his brow rising as officers seemed to just pour into the front entrance of the Bolin police station, guns drawn towards the door—towards them. Their faces did not look friendly.

"Umm…Harlow…"

"Don't worry about it," Harlow said, sounding unconcerned.

When they reached the building, Harlow shoved Chance forward and used the man's body to literally open the door for him.

Walking in, Harlow yelled, "Hey, dumb fucks. Since you were all too fucking lazy to do your motherfucking job, we, members of the Hunters Guild, did it fucking for you. You're not fucking welcome."

Foxx stopped and stared, chest tightening as he suppressed a giggle. Guns still raised, the cops now stared at them with wide-eyes—some jaws had even dropped.

Harlow snapped his fingers at Chance and pointed towards a spot on the floor, out of the way of the door. The other human smartly sat down without a word.

"Come in out of the cold, Foxx," Harlow grunted as he stepped out of the way and held the door for him.

About bloody time. Foxx marched forward, but stopped at the sound of a thump as he accidently rammed the awake human into the frame of the door. "Oops."

"You fucking fa—" The human started to howl, only to be cut off when Foxx sent an icy glare his way. "Fashion…criminal…" the human corrected stupidly.

Foxx hissed. "I look fucking adorable, thank you very much, you shit stain of a human."

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" a deep, raspy voice boomed out.

Foxx looked away from Dobson and eyed the glaring older human who was now standing in front of the platoon of cops. At least he did for a split second, before deciding to ignore him in favor of dragging the humans fully inside the building, because it was fucking cold out.

Harlow let the door swing shut, seemingly choosing to ignore the man as well.

"I ASKED A FUCKING QUESTION!"

Foxx eyed the man, doing a sweep down from his bald head, over the no doubt useless uniform he wore, to the tips of his shiny fucking shoes and then back up, his gaze settling on his badge. Ahh, the Chief of Police had come out to greet them…how convenient. Just the waste of space wanker they needed to talk to.

"So, you"re bad at your job, AND you lack basic comprehension skills." Foxx tsked. "How DO you function day to day??"

"EXCUSE ME?!" the human bellowed. It seemed that was the only way he could communicate…yelling.

Harlow chuckled. "Aww, be nice, Foxx! Maybe he's just hard of hearing? Though, if need be, I can dumb it down for him."

"Oh, let me." Foxx giggled. "We hunters. You cops. You no do job, so we, hunters, did for you."

The officer's face turned redder somehow. "Y-you," he sputtered.

"I think he's broken," Foxx whispered loudly.

"Nah, I think this is likely just normal," Harlow said, sounding bored. "Well, boys, we can't stand here all day. And these fuckers need to be transported to the nearest Guild. A job you all won't get out of, by the way, as much as I'm sure you want to."

"You should watch your tone, boys," the man blustered, before adjusting his badge. "Be fully aware that you are speaking to Bolin's Chief of Police, Barney Down."

Foxx whispered again to Harlow, "Is that supposed to impress us?"

"I think so," the man replied normally with a smirk.

"Enough of this nonsense!" Barney bellowed. "Who are you, and what right do you have to come into our city and put your hands on our citizens?!"

The humor he'd felt moments before seeped away upon remembering all that this bastard had let happen, just because the victims weren't equal in his human eyes.

"What right did you have, sitting back on your ass, doing nothing, while assaults, arson, and various other criminal activities were reported to you? Or are vampires living in this trash heap of a town not citizens in your eyes, Mr. Chief of Police?"

"We follow every creditable report. WE know our jobs," Barney defended.

The men behind him chose that moment to finally say something, and it was just to yell vaguely in support—the fucking twats.

"If you know your job so damn well, then maybe you all should have fucking done it!" Harlow roared.

The gallery of clowns went back to being silent as the Chief flinched. "We did?—"

"Less than nothing," Foxx hissed. "Why lie when the paper trail is easy to find? It has been found, by the way."

Barney's mouth snapped shut as he paled.

He chuckled darkly. "Ahh, you finally realized. That for us to be here, it means others much further up the line know as well. Took you long enough to figure that out, didn't it, oh mighty Chief of Police of Bolin, Missouri."

"Yeah, plenty of other people know. Well, until that bullshit of your own making comes to fuck you in the ass, unlucky for you?—"

The clock on the wall caught Foxx's attention, and he cut Harlow off. "Can we hurry this up? As fun as it is to mind fuck these guys, I have somewhere to be!"

Oh, he was so glad he saw the time! Foxx had almost forgotten about his plans tonight! Well, he hadn't forgotten, just Harlow's mood and the drive had pushed it from his mind.

Ugh…nope, he did NOT need to think about ‘that' right now, or about how Harlow had looked to be having a panic attack in the car. Nope, Foxx definitely did not need to think about, or remember, either of those things.

"What the hell do you have tonight besides knitting and true crime?" Harlow grumbled, looking at him.

"I do have a life, you know?!"

"Who are you fooling? Every night of the week, your ass is either parked on the couch or on my dick."

Foxx gasped. "And what about you, Mr. Anti-social?! I'm literally your only friend! Who else do you even do things with?!"

Harlow smirked. "It doesn't matter if I don't do things, because unlike you, I don't like people. What's your excuse for your failing social life?"

"F-failing social life?! I'll have you know, I will be fully immersing myself in the amazing world of witchy baking tonight!" Foxx snapped, before plastering a fake ass smile on his face and adding, "And I'd hardly call my social life a failure, considering I have dating prospects. Or did you forget about Iggy?"

Though…Foxx kind of wanted to forget about Iggy as his flirting was annoying.

* * *

Harlow growled—FUCKINGIGGY! Wait…witchy baking?

"You're going to bake with that witch again?"

"What do you mean again?! I never got to do it in the first place!" Foxx whined.

"Umm…" Barney started slowly. Harlow…tuned him out even as he started to speak.

"I mean, almost going is enough, don't you think?" he pointed out in dumb hope that Foxx would buy it.

"How the bloody hell do you figure that?!" Foxx snapped incredulously.

"Um…excuse me…" the Chief of Police tried again.

"Do you really need to hang out with that witch?"

"Yes! Sephira is my friend! And get this, friends see each other and do things together!"

Harlow grimaced. Sephira…ugh… Tony claimed they could trust her. And she supposedly took care of the witch involved in Foxx's kidnapping…yet…

"Aren't you tired of baking after making all those pies?"

"I am going to my witchy baking fun night, Harlow!"

Barney cleared his throat. "Hello…?"

Fucking hell… Harlow let out a frustrated growl, and then proceeded to ask something he'd never in a million years thought he'd ever ask. "Can I go?"

Looking dumbstruck, Foxx blinked. The man's mouth opened and closed, the vampire staring silently for a moment, before finally managing to ask in obvious disbelief, "You…want…to go?"

"Yes," he said stiffly.

"HELLO?!" Barney cried out, sounding exasperated.

"FUCKING, WHAT?!" Harlow growled vehemently. Did the man not see they were busy, the stupid rude ass bastard?