by J. R. Ward
"Don't even go there. It's too early to know what he's going to be like."
Z rubbed over his skull trim. "I'm just saying. He's—"
"I know."
"And he's got Wrath's blood in him."
"I know, But look, it's too soon, Z. It's just too soon. Besides, his mother isn't a Chosen."
Z's yellow eyes grew annoyed. "Stupid fucking rule if you ask me."
Chapter Forty
Butch woke up on the gurney in the midst of taking a deep breath in through his nose. He was… smelling something. Something that pleased him greatly. Something that made him hum with power. Mine, a voice said in his head.
He tried to shake the word off, but it just got louder. With every breath he took, the single syllable repeated in his brain until it was like the beat of his heart: Involuntary. The source of his very life. The seat of his soul.
With a groan, he sat up on the table, only to lurch off balance and nearly fall onto the floor. As he caught himself, he looked down at his arms. What the—no, this was wrong. These were not his arms—or… shit, his legs either. His thighs were huge.
This is not me, he thought.
Mine, came the voice again.
He looked around. God, everything in the clinical room was crystal clear, like his eyes were windows that had been wiped clean. And his ears… he looked up at the fluorescent lights. He could actually hear the electricity going through the tubes.
Mine.
He inhaled again. Marissa. That scent was Marissa. She was close by—
His mouth opened of its own accord, and he let out a deep, rhythmic purr that ended in a growled word: Mine.
His heart pounded as he realized the control tower in his head had been completely overtaken. No longer logical, he was being ruled by a possessive instinct that made what he'd felt toward Marissa before look like a passing fancy.
Mine!
He glanced down at his hips and got a load of what was doing in his now way-too-small boxers. His cock had grown along with the rest of him, and it was punching out at the stretched-thin cotton. The thing twitched as he looked at it as if to get his attention.
Oh… God. His body wanted to mate. With Marissa. Now.
As if he'd called her name, she appeared in the doorway. "Butch?"
With no warning, he became a torpedo, his body aiming itself at her and shooting across the room. He took her down to the floor and kissed her hard, mounting her while he grabbed the front of her slacks and wrenched the zipper down. Grunting, straining, he peeled her pants off her smooth legs, spread her thighs roughly, and buried his face in her core.
As if he were a split personality, he watched himself act from a distance, seeing his hands shove her shirt up and capture her breasts while he tongued her. Then he was surging forward, baring fangs he somehow knew how to use and biting through the front of her bra. He kept trying to get himself to stop, but he was caught in some kind of centrifugal force, and Marissa… she was the axis he whirled around.
From the maelstrom, he groaned, "I'm sorry… oh, God… I can't stop…"
She grabbed on to his face… and stilled him completely. It was unbelievable and he didn't know how she did it, it was just… his body came to a total halt. Which made him realize she had the oddest control over him. If she said no, he would stop. On a dime. Period.
Except she wasn't putting the brakes on. Her eyes glowed with an erotic light. "Take me. Make me your female."
She tilted her hips to him, and his body shot right back into the frenzy. Rearing up, he ripped apart the waistband of his boxers and slammed into her with the things hanging open. He penetrated her so deep, stretched her so wide, he felt like she gloved every inch of him.
As she cried out and sank her nails into his ass, he went for it hard and fast. And while the sex raged, he felt the two halves of himself knitting together. While he pumped wildly, the voice he'd always known to be him and this new one that was talking at him became one.
He was looking into her face as he started to orgasm, and the ejaculations were like nothing he'd ever known. Sharper, more powerful, and they went on forever, as if he had an infinite supply of what he was filling her up with. And she was loving it, kicking her head back on the tile in pleasure, her legs tight around his hips, her core eating up everything he gave her.
When it was over, Butch collapsed, panting, sweating, dizzy. It was only then that he noticed they fit together differently; his head was higher up on her, his hips demanded more room between her legs, his hands were bigger next to her face.
She kissed his shoulder. Licked at his skin. "Mmmm… and you smell good, too."
Yeah, he did. The dark spice that had come out of him before was now a vibrant scent in the room. And the marking was all over Marissa's skin and hair… and it was inside of her, too.
Which was right. She was his.
He rolled off her. "Baby… I'm not sure why I had to do that." Well, half of him wasn't sure. The other half just wanted to do it to her again.
"I'm glad you did." The smile she gave him was radiant. As brilliant as the noonday sun.
And the sight of it made him realize with satisfaction that he was also her man: It was a two-way street here. They belonged to each other.
"I love you, baby."
She repeated the words, but then her smile slipped. "I was so afraid you would die."
"But I didn't. It's over and done with and I'm on the other side. I'm with you on the other side."
"I can't go through that again."
"You won't have to."
She relaxed some and stroked his face. Then frowned. "It's a little cold in here, isn't it?"
"Let's get you dressed and back to the main house." He reached out to bring her shirt together… and his eyes latched on to her breasts with their perfect pink nipples.
He grew hard again. Full to bursting. Desperate for another release.
That smile of hers reappeared. "Come back up on me, nallum. Let my body ease yours."
She didn't have to ask twice.
Outside the Equipment Room, V, Phury, and Zsadist stopped talking and listened. Going by the muted sounds, Butch was up and awake and… busy. As the brothers laughed, V shut the door all the way, thinking that he was very happy for that pair in there. Very… happy.
He and the twins continued to shoot the shit, with V lighting up on occasion and ashing into an Aquafina bottle. An hour later, the door opened and Marissa and Butch appeared. Marissa was dressed in a martial-arts ji, Butch had a towel around his hips, and the bonding scent was all over them. They looked well used and very, very sated.
"Um… hey, guys," the cop said, blushing. He looked good, but he wasn't moving too well. In fact, he was using his female as a crutch.
V cracked a smile. "You look taller."
"Yeah, I… ah, I'm not getting around so good. Is that normal?"
Phury nodded. "Definitely. Took me a long time to get used to the new body. You'll have some control over it in a couple of days, but it's going to be weird for a while."
As the pair came forward, Marissa looked as if she was struggling under the weight of her male and Butch seemed wobbly, like he was trying not to lean on her as much as he really needed to.
V got up. "You want help on the way back to the Pit?"
Butch nodded. "That'd be great. I'm about to fall on her."
V got in at Butch's side and propped the cop up. "Home, Jarvis?"
"God, yes. I would love a shower."
Butch took Marissa's hand, and the three of them headed slowly to the Pit.
The trip through the tunnel was silent except for Butch's shuffling feet. And as they went along, V remembered coming out of his own transition, waking up tattooed with warnings all over his face and his hand and his private areas. At least Butch was safe, and he had people to protect him while his strength gathered.
V had been taken out and left for dead in the woods beyond a warrior camp.
Butch also had another thin
g going for him: a female of worth who loved him. Marissa was positively glowing at his side and V tried not to look at her too much… except he couldn't stop. So warm, the way she stared at Butch. So very warm.
V had to wonder what that was like.
When they stepped into the Pit, Butch let out a ragged sigh. Clearly his energy had flagged completely by now, sweat breaking out across his forehead as he struggled to remain upright.
"How about your bed?" V said.
"No… shower. I need a shower."
"Are you hungry?" Marissa asked.
"Yeah… oh, God, yeah. I want… bacon. Bacon and…"
"Chocolate," V said wryly as he muscled the cop down to the guy's suite.
"Oh… chocolate. Fuck, I would kill for that." Butch frowned. "Except I don't like chocolate."
"You do now." V kicked the bathroom door open and Marissa ducked into the shower and turned the water on.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Pancakes. And waffles with syrup and butter. And eggs…"
V shot the female a look. "Just bring anything edible. He'd eat his own shoes at this point."
"… and ice cream and turkey with stuffing…"
Marissa kissed Butch on the lips. "I'll be right b—"
Butch grabbed her by the head and held her to his mouth with a moan. As a fresh flood of the bonding scent came out of him, he maneuvered her against the wall and pinned her with his body, hands traveling, hips pushing forward.
Ah, yes, V thought. The newly transitioned male. Butch was going to be throwing wood every fifteen minutes for a while.
Marissa laughed, utterly delighted with her mate. "Later. Food first."
Butch settled back immediately, like she'd called his lust to a heel and it behaved because it wanted to be a good boy. As she left, the cop's eyes followed her with rank hunger and adoration.
V shook his head. "You are a total sap."
"Man, if I thought I loved her before…"
"The bonded male biz is some powerful shit." V stripped Butch of his towel and shoved him under the water. "Or so I've heard."
"Ow." Butch glared up at the showerhead. "I don't like this."
"Skin's going to be extra sensitive for a week or so. Holler if you need me."
V was halfway down the hall when he heard a yelp. He hightailed it back, barging through the door. "What? What's—"
"I'm going bald!"
V whipped back the shower curtain and frowned. "What are you talking about? You've still got your hair—"
"Not my head! My body, you idiot! I'm going bald!" Vishous glanced down. Butch's torso and legs were shedding, a rush of dark brown fuzz pooling around the drain.
V started laughing. "Think of it this way. At least you won't have to worry about shaving your back as you get old, true? No manscaping for you."
He was not surprised when a bar of soap came firing at him.
Chapter Forty-one
It was a week later that Van learned something important about himself.
His humanity was gone.
As a moan echoed through the empty basement, he glanced at the civilian vampire who was strapped on a table. Mr. X was working the thing over and Van was watching. Like this was nothing more than someone getting a haircut.
He should have thought it was wrong. In all his years as a fighter, he'd inflicted a lot of pain on opponents, but he'd avoided hurting the innocent and had despised people who went after the weak. Now? His sole reaction to this base cruelty was annoyance… because it wasn't working. The only thing they'd learned about O'Neal was that a human fitting the man's description had been seen among males suspected to be Brothers in some of the clubs downtown—Screamer's and ZeroSum in particular. But they'd known all that already.
He was beginning to suspect the Fore-lesser was working out his frustrations at this point. Which was such a waste of time. Van wanted to go after vampires, not play armchair quarterback at a scene like this.
Except, shit, it wasn't like he'd had a shot at killing one of those bloodsuckers yet. Thanks to Mr. X keeping him off the field, all he'd taken out since joining the Lessening Society were other frickin' lessers. Every day, Mr. X lined him up against another one. And every day, Van beat his opponent into submission, then stabbed the guy. And every day, Mr. X got more and more wound up. It was like Van was letting the Fore-lesser down, although with a seven and oh record, it was hard to figure out precisely how.
As gurgling sounds drifted over on the blood-scented air, Van cursed under his breath.
"Am I boring you over there?" Mr. X snapped.
"Not at all. This is really great to watch."
There was a short silence. Then a disgusted hiss. "Don't be such a lightweight."
"Whatever. I'm a fighter, man. I'm not into this captive-beating shit, especially when it's not leading to anything."
Those flat, pale eyes burned. "Go patrol with some of the others, then. Because if I have to look at you any longer, you're going to find yourself on this table."
"Finally." Van headed for the stairs.
As his combat boot hit the first step, Mr. X spat, "Your weak stomach is such a disgrace."
"My guts aren't the problem here, trust me." Van kept going.
Butch stepped off the treadmill in the gym and wiped the sweat off his face with his shirt. He'd just run eleven miles. In fifty minutes. Which would be a sustained pace of about a five-minute mile. Holy… shit.
"How you feel?" V asked from the bench press.
"Like Lee fucking Majors."
There was a clang as nearly seven hundred pounds came to rest on the stand. "Six Million Dollar Man reference dates you, cop."
"I grew up in the seventies. Sue me." Butch sucked back some water, then looked to the doorway in a flash. His breath caught, and a split second later Marissa walked in.
God, she was gorgeous in black slacks and a cream jacket—businesslike yet feminine. And her pale eyes sparkled across the room.
"Thought I'd come by before I left for the night," she said.
"Glad you did, baby." He did the best he could to towel himself off as he went over to her, but she didn't seem to mind him hot and sweaty. At all. Her palm cupped his chin as he bent down and said a hello against her mouth.
"You look good," she whispered, running her hand down his neck and over his bare pecs. She traced his cross with light fingers. "Very good."
"Do I." He smiled as he hardened in his running shorts, remembering how an hour and a half ago he'd woken her up from the inside out. "Well, I'm not as good as you."
"I could debate that." He hissed as she stepped up against him.
With a growl, he ran through the layout of the training center in his mind, trying to figure out where they could disappear for ten minutes. Um… yeah, there was a classroom nearby with a good lock on the door. Perfect.
He glanced over at V, about to throw his roommate an I'll be right back, when he was surprised to find the brother staring at the two of them, lids low, expression unreadable. Vishous looked away quickly.
"So, I have to go," Marissa said, stepping back. "Big night."
"You can't stay for just a little longer? Five minutes, maybe?"
"I would love to, but… no."
Wait a minute, he thought. There was something different about the way she was staring at him. In fact, her eyes were locked on the side of his neck and her mouth was slightly open. Then her tongue made a quick sweep of her lower lip, as if she were tasting something good. Or maybe wanting to taste something.
A bolt of mad lust shot through him.
"Baby?" he said roughly. "You need something from me?"
"Yes…" She stood up on her tiptoes and spoke into his ear. "I gave you so much when you were going through the transition that I'm a little weak. I need your vein."
Holy shit… what he'd been waiting for all along. The chance to feed her.
Butch grabbed her around the waist, popped her feet off the floor, and carried her toward
the door like the weight room was on fire.
"Not yet, Butch." She laughed. "Put me down. You're barely a week out."
"No."
"Butch, put me down."
His body obeyed the command, even though his mind wanted to argue. "How much longer?"
"Soon."
"I'm strong now."
"I can wait a couple of days. And it's better if we do."
She kissed him and looked at the watch she wore. It was his favorite from his collection, the Patek Philippe with the black alligator band. He loved the idea that she had it with her wherever she went.
"I'll be at Safe Place all night," she said. "We have a new female and two youngs coming, and I want to be there when they check in. I'm also calling my first staff meeting. Mary's coming and we're going to do it together. So I probably won't be back until dawn."
"I'll be here." He caught her as she turned away and spun her back into his arms. "Be careful out there."
"I will."
He kissed her deep, wrapping his arms around her slender body. Man, he couldn't wait until she came back. And missed her the moment she left.
"I am a total sap," he said as the door closed.
"Told you." V got up off the bench press and picked up a pair of stacked one-hander weights. "Bonded males are a thing."
Butch shook his head and tried to refocus on what else he wanted to accomplish in the gym tonight. For the past seven days, while Marissa went off to her new job, he stayed at the compound and worked on how to handle this new body of his. The learning curve was steep. In the beginning, he'd had to re-learn the most simple functions, like how to eat and how to write. Now, he was trying to get a sense of his physical limits to see when… if… he would break. The good news was, so far, everything worked. Well, almost everything. One of his hands was a little messed up, though not in any serious way.
And the fangs were fabulous.
As were the strength and endurance he now had. No matter how far or how hard he pushed himself in the gym, his body took the punishment and responded with growth. At meals, he ate like Rhage and Z, sucking back some five thousand calories every twenty-four hours… and even still, he was always hungry. Which made sense. He was packing on muscle like he was shooting 'roids.