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hed his insides and sometimes drew thin dirty blood from them； and soon he would be with Jessy。 Tonight he would avenge her； and he would have his memories of her again； his memories of a child who danced and laughed； of a child who loved him； who was not a dark creature of sex and blood。 He would eradicate his damnable sin。 He would redeem himself。
The air sobered him。 He drew himself up； refused to sway； refused to let his dizziness and fear overtake him。 Tonight belonged to him； and to Jessy。
He walked toward the river。
Chapter 8
Twig kept up a steady string of curses as they drove into DC。 The streets seemed skewed to him； the signs indecipherable。 Finally he turned the wrong way down a one…way street； screeched to a halt in front of a fancy hotel； and said； 'That's where we're staying。〃
Molochai waved the parking valet over； and Twig presented him with the keys to the van。 〃Remember which one is ours；〃 he told the valet。 〃We want this van back； not some pussy Volvo。〃
The lobby was all plush and marble opulence； red…carpet gaudy splendor。 They appreciated it not a bit。 As they checked in； Molochai gaped up at the three…tiered crystal chandelier； and Twig palmed the desk clerk's cigarettes。
Their room was not as gaudy as the public facade of the hotel。 Here on the twentieth floor there was only pale carpeting as thick and rich as whipped cream。 Zillah slipped his shoes off and wriggled his toes in its creamy depths。 Here were only deep； cloud…soft beds and sofas that one might drown in； falling forever； never to be seen again。 Oh yes； they could have fun here。
He drifted to the window and pulled aside heavy draperies。 The city gleamed far below； green and white； immaculate。 The crazy pattern of the streets was a puzzle that wanted deciphering。 In the center of it all the Washington Monument soared up； as clean and stark as a bone。 Zillah smiled a small secret smile。 The city was delicious。 All cities were delicious。 They had only to wait until nightfall。
From behind him came a great howl of delight as Molochai and Twig saw the whirlpool bathtub。 Zillah turned to see them tipping at each other's clothes； throwing shirts and sneakers and socks all over the room in their haste to get undressed。 He watched them for a moment； still smiling； then untied the purple scarf that bound his ponytail and began bing his hair with his fingers； smoothing its silky length； untangling the snarls made by the wind on the road。 Hair slipped between his fingers； tumbled down over his shoulders。
Molochai and Twig stood together by the whirlpool； naked as babes； waiting to see what Zillah would do。 Zillah slipped out of his trousers and jacket； pulled his loose black T…shirt over his head。 He wore no underwear； none of them did。 Slim as a girl； he stood looking at Molochai and Twig； his skin creamy pale； his hair the color of coffee with milk。
They moved toward one another until their shoulders were almost touching。 All three bodies bore the marks of various piercings； tattoos； and scarifications。 Living so long in the same unchanging flesh made them restless； they were pelled to change it themselves。 Age did its own decorating of human bodies…wrinkles； wattled flesh； random sproutings of coarse yellowish hair。 Molochai； Twig； and Zillah were much more pleased with their own methods of decoration： silver rings； intricate patterns in ink or raised flesh。
Twig had twin strands of barbed wire tattooed on his wrists； twining up both arms； and two long thin pieces of metal that pierced the thin skin of his stomach just below the rib cage on either side； capped with nuggets of hone he had saved to have honed and fitted。 Zillah wore silver hoops through his nipples； Molochai's were pierced with safety pins； from one of which dangled a polished fingerbone。 All three had foreskin rings （because of the circumstances surrounding their births； few of their race were circumcised as babies）。 They had linked these together to pose for a series of studies by a famous photographer of erotica； Zillah standing on an inlaid…teak stool that brought his ting up to the level of the others'。
Zillah put his hand on Molochai's shoulder and pushed gently down。 Molochai knelt before him and embraced Zillah's narrow hips。 His mouth brushed soft skin and silky hair。 He put out his tongue and felt Zillah shiver。 Then Zillah's hand was under his chin； cupping his face and tilting it up。 Molochai looked up into Zillah's eyes。 Green。 Glowing； melting green。
〃Molochai；〃 said Zillah。
Molochai was lost in the luminescent sea of green； he could not answer。
〃Molochai。 〃
He shook himself。 〃What？〃
Zillah's face was calm。 A small smile played about his lips。 〃Do you want something from room service？〃
Molochai stared up at Zillah for a few moments。 Then he hugged Zillah tighter； and it was as if two jagged edges fitted together inside him。 He turned and saw Twig standing jealously alone； watching them。 They each put out an arm to Twig； and he came to them。
〃I want champagne；〃 said' Molochai。 〃And I want whipped cream and； kidneys and chocolate truffles and baby's…blood ice cream。
They stood together； naked and embracing； the three of them as much a family as anyone could be； anywhere； ever。
In the foamy waters of the whirlpool Zillah pulled Molochai and Twig to him and dipped his tongue into their mouths； sweet with cake and cream； sharp and sour with champagne。 Once more they began their game of spit and skin and passion； of slippery hands and soft bites； and sometimes harder bites。 They played the game they knew so well； the game they had played for such a long time； and when they were clone Molochai and Twig snuggled against Zillah in the steamy swirling water； their heads on his shoulders； their hands linked across his chest
The three closed their eyes and dreamed their warm bloody dreams。 For a few hours they could rest； and then it would be time to go out and party again。
When night folded like a deep blue cloak over the city； they roused themselves from their wet languor and began pulling on black shirts； black socks； dirty black sneakers。 They favored black clothes because dark red stains would not show on them。 Zillah put a tiny silver ankh through his earlobe。 The other two wore large dangling crucifixes in their ears。
Twig； smearing on eyeliner in front of the bathroom mirror； found a raw red crescent on his chest。 〃You bit me；〃 he plained to Molochai。 〃I'm bleeding。〃
Molochai； still half…naked； came closer and licked the blood from Twig's chest。 When Twig's nipple puckered at the touch of the rough tongue； Molochai snapped at it。 〃I'm hungry；〃 he said； and this time there was something in his voice that told them he would not be satisfied with sweets and chocolate。
When the sun set； Zillah sent the valet to get their van。 They drove to Georgetown； taking wrong turns； being stopped by streets that suddenly turned one…way； weaving around and around traffic circles； swaying against each other every time the van navigated a curve。 They had drunk more champagne back at the hotel； and by this time they were too blasted to care wheth