Storm Prey
“And stop fuckin' staring at them," Lyle Mack said. "You'll freak them out.""They're freakin' me out." And Joe Mack couldn't stop staring.Joe and Lyle Mack were out of their comfort zone, wandering through the University of Minnesota's student union, baby blondes all over the place, sweaters and wool slacks, rosy cheeks. They were ... dewy, with tits. But it wasn't just that: it was that there were so many of them.Joe Mack had never done dewy. Ever. Or, as far as he could remember, ever been on ...a college campus.LIKE TROLLS in a sorority house, the Macks traipsed through the first floor and down to the basement food court, where they found Barakat sitting in a corner, nursing a cappuccino. He was wearing a white dress shirt, buttoned to the top, and a scowl, and he shivered occasionally, though his forehead was shiny with sweat. An Arctic-level parka was sitting on a bench seat beside him.Lyle Mack pulled up a chair and leaned forward and said, "This wasn't necessary."Barakat leaned toward him and pitched his voice down, and snarled at them.MoreLess
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