Chapter 12: Laureatus: The Crowning

October 11^th, 1993

"So, Carter." Lynn looks up at me from the breakfast table in the penthouse suite of the Sand-Dune. "Claudio will arrive about noon. What will you tell him?"

I smile and look out the window at Vegas. "Thank you very much, Claudio ... all that jazz." I close one eye from the morning glare and think about something else for a minute. "And ... don't ever come back here or I'll take an apple corer to your eye sockets."

Lynn winces. "Is that wise?"

"I don't give a shit. Wise. This place is mine now. He's only coming to make peace, to establish the boundaries, and to probe me about Loris. Nothing else." I imagine a whole row of massive new hotels lining the strip fueled by an endless sea of cash. "He wants to see if I'm pushable."

She nods. "I suppose. Still, don't underestimate him, my dear."

I pause and breathe. I've been channeling Vincent again. "Don't worry, I'll play nice."

Lynn smiles. I smile back.

Marco trots in to the room, leading a valet. The valet drops the morning paper on the table and clears away the dishes. I rub my forehead. "He's in here, you know. Just like you're in there."

"I know Carter. But you're stronger. You used his hatred. It will pass."

I say nothing. I hear him in me. He screams and gibbers in his prison. But he's small and weak, still seven ... always locked into that moment. He never grew up. And I had to ... for all of us.

Lynn's face still doesn't have Martine's smile just right, but it will in time. Then all will be well. In the meantime, it's hot as fuck to know you're getting a two for one deal. She doesn't mind, she's alive. When I ripped Martine loose from her body, there was only one place I could put her. I'd been down in the deepest parts of Lynn's mind, made her mine at the deepest possible levels. When the moment came, I had a back door into her mind that I could use. So I did. And now Martine and Lynn live in the same brain. Two minds, one submissive to the other. Martine can't drive Lynn out, and Lynn can't force herself to fight Martine.

Natalie's making noises from the gym. Probably has Angela's face in a thigh lock again.

I read the paper. Looks like that old hotel the Illusions, the one that mysteriously caught fire when a suicidal pederast flew his plane into it, will be torn down this week. They're gonna make a big deal out of it, set off fireworks. Apparently there's a secret buyer for the property, and he's in a hurry to build there. I wonder who that could be.

We sip coffee in silence. I admire the rise and fall of Lynn's breasts in her thin peach blouse. I've lost everything I once held dear. My family, my friends, my work. My story is a story of loss. And also of rebirth. I'm a new man now. Carter Dawson is dead. Long live Carter, Inceptor of Las Vegas.