by J. R. Ward
The two of them were lying back-to-back, so tightly against each other it was as if their spines were fused. Their arms and legs were curled up in identical positions, their chins tucked into their chests. She imagined them in their mother's womb like that, resting together, innocent of all the horrors that waited for them on the outside.
Odd to think her blood was in both of them. It was her only legacy to the pair, the only thing she was leaving behind.
Without warning Zsadist's eyes flipped open. The yellow-gold glow was such a surprise, she jumped.
"Bella…" He reached for her. "Bella—"
She took a step back. "I came to say good-bye."
As he dropped his hand, she had to look away.
"Where are you going?" he asked. "Somewhere safe?"
"Yes." She was heading down the coast, to Charleston in South Carolina, to extended family who were more than happy to take her in. "It's going to be a new start for me. A new life."
"Good. This is good."
She closed her eyes. Just once… just once she would have liked to hear some regret in his voice while she was leaving. Then again, as this was their last good-bye, at least she wouldn't have to be disappointed anymore.
"You were so brave," he said. "I owe you my life. His, too. You are so… brave."
The hell she was. She was about to break down completely. "I hope you and Phury heal up fast. Yeah, I hope…"
There was a long silence. Then she took one last look at Zsadist's face. She knew then that even if she mated somewhere down the line, no male would ever take his place.
And as unromantic as it sounded, that just plain sucked. Sure, she was supposed to triumph over loss and all that. But she loved him and she wasn't going to end up with him, and all she wanted to do was get in a bed somewhere, turn the lights off, and just lie there. For, like, a century.
"I need you to know something," she said. "You told me that someday I would wake up and regret being with you. Well, I do. But not because of what the glymera would say." She crossed her arms over her chest. "After having been burned by high society once, I'm no longer afraid of the aristocracy, and I would have been proud… to stand at your side. But yes, I am sorry I was with you."
Because leaving him was a shattering blow. Worse than everything she'd gone through with the lesser.
All things considered, it would have been better not to know what she was missing.
Without another word she turned and left the room.
As dawn creeped over the landscape, Butch walked into the Pit, took off his coat, and sat down on the leather sofa. SportsCenter was on mute. Kanye West's Late Registration was on surround sound.
V appeared in the kitchen's doorway, clearly just in from a night of fighting: He was shirtless and sporting a shiner, still in his leathers and shitkickers.
"How you doing?" Butch asked, eyeing another black-and-blue that was popping up on his roommate's shoulder.
"No better than you. You look beat, cop."
"For real." He let his head fall back. Watching over Z had seemed like the thing to do while the other Brothers had been out doing their job. But he was exhausted, even though all he'd done was park it in a chair for three days straight.
"I've got something to perk you up. Here."
Butch shook his head as a wineglass appeared in front of his face. "You know I don't drink red."
"Try it."
"Nah, I need a shower and then something with a little more bite in it." Butch planted his hands into his knees and started to get up.
Vishous stepped in the way. "You need this. Trust me."
Butch let his ass sink back down as he took the glass. He sniffed at the wine. Drank some. "Not bad. Little thick, but not bad. Is this a merlot?"
"Not really."
He tilted his head back and swallowed seriously. The wine was strong, burning its way to his stomach, making him a little light-headed. Which made him wonder when the last time he'd eaten had been.
As he sucked back the last inch, he frowned. Vishous was watching him far too closely.
"V? Something wrong?" He put the glass on a table and cocked an eyebrow.
"No… no, everything's cool. Everything's going to be cool now."
Butch thought about his roommate's troubles of late. "Hey, I meant to ask about your visions. They still gone?"
"Well, I had one about ten minutes ago. So maybe they're back."
"That'd be good. I don't like to see you all freaked out."
"You're all right, cop. You know that?" Vishous smiled and pushed a hand through his hair. As his arm dropped, Butch caught sight of the Brother's wrist. On the inside of it there was a fresh red cut. Like, one that had been made minutes ago.
Butch looked at the wineglass. A horrible suspicion carried his eyes to his roommate's drinking point again.
"Jesus… Christ. V, what… what did you do?" He shot to his feet just as the first spasm overtook his stomach. "Oh, God… Vishous."
He ran for his toilet to throw up, but he didn't make it that far. As soon as he flew into his room V tackled him from behind, taking him down onto the bed. When he started to gag, Vishous flipped him over onto his back and pushed the heel of his hand up against Butch's chin, keeping his mouth shut.
"Don't fight it," V said roughly. "Keep it down. You need to keep it down."
Butch's gut heaved and he choked on the shit that shot up into his throat. Panicked, nauseated, unable to breathe, he shoved against the heavy body that straddled him and managed to knock Vishous off to the side. But before he could get free, V grabbed him from behind and forced his jaw shut again.
"Keep… it… down…" V groaned as they straggled on the bed.
Butch felt a thick leg come around and trap his thighs. The wrestling move worked. He couldn't move. He fought anyway.
The spasms and the nausea intensified until he thought his eyes were going to burst. Then there was an explosion in his gut, and sparks started flowing throughout his body… sparks that lit off a tingling… now a hum. He fell still, the fight going out of him as he absorbed the sensations.
V's hold eased up and he took his hand away, though he kept an arm around Butch's chest. "That's right… Just breathe through it. You're doing fine."
The hum was rising now, turning into something like sex, but not really… No, it definitely wasn't anything erotic, but his body didn't know the difference. He hardened, the erection pushing against his slacks, his body suddenly raging with heat. He arched back, a moan coming out of his mouth.
"That's right," V said into his ear. "Don't fight it. Let it wash through you."
Butch's hips swiveled of their own accord, and he moaned again. He was hot as the center of the sun, his skin hypersensitive, his vision gone… And then the roaring in his gut shifted up to his heart. In a flash all his veins lit up like they had gasoline in them, the whole inside of him becoming a network of fire, growing hotter and hotter. Sweat poured off him as his body gyrated and jerked, and he threw his head back against Vishous's shoulder. Hoarse sounds broke out of his mouth.
"I'm… going… to die."
V's voice was right there with him, seeing him through. "You gotta stay with me, my man. Keep breathing. This isn't going to last long."
Just when Butch thought he couldn't handle any more of the inferno, an eighteen-wheeler orgasm overtook him. As the top of his cock blew off, Vishous held him through the convulsions, speaking in the Old Language. And then it was over. A storm passed.
Panting, weak, Butch shuddered in the aftermath as V eased off the bed and covered him with a blanket.
"Why…" Butch said like a drunk. "Why, V?"
Vishous's face appeared in front of his. Both of the Brother's diamond eyes glowed… until the left one suddenly went all black, the pupil expanding until the iris and the white part became nothing but an infinite hole.
"The why of it… I don't know. But I saw that you were to drink from me. It was either that or you were going into the groun
d." V reached out and smoothed Butch's hair back. "Sleep. You'll feel fine by nightfall because you lived through it."
"That could have… killed me?" Well, shit, yeah. He'd assumed he was going to die.
"I wouldn't have given it to you if I weren't sure you'd make it. Close your eyes, now. Let yourself go, true?" Vishous headed out, but paused in the doorway.
As the Brother looked back, Butch felt the oddest sensation… a bond flowing between them, something more tangible than the air between their bodies. Forged in the oven he'd just been in, deep as the blood in his veins… a miracle connection.
My brother, Butch thought.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, cop."
And Butch knew that was absolutely true, though he really didn't appreciate being blindsided. Then again, if he'd known what was in that glass, he never would have swallowed the shit. No frickin' way.
"What does this make me?" he asked softly.
"Nothing that you weren't before. You're still just a human."
Butch sighed in relief. "Listen, man, do me a favor. Warn me before you pull another stunt like that. I'd rather choose." Then he smiled a little. "And we still ain't dating."
V laughed in a short burst. "Go to sleep, roomie. You can kick my ass for this later."
"I will."
As the Brother's broad back disappeared down the hail, Butch closed his eyes.
Still just a human… Just… a… human.
Sleep claimed him like a prize.
CHAPTER 48
The following evening Zsadist pulled a fresh set of leathers over his thighs. He was stiff, but he felt incredibly strong, and he knew it was Bella's blood still nourishing him, giving him his full power, making him whole.
He cleared his throat as he buttoned his fly, trying not to cry over her like a sissy. "Thanks for bringing these, cop."
Butch nodded. "No problem. You going to try and poof it home? Because I got the Escalade if you don't feel up to it."
Z yanked a black turtleneck over his head, shoved his feet into his shitkickers, and stalled out.
"Z? Z, my man?"
He looked over at the cop. Blinked a couple of times. "Sorry, what?»
"You want to ride with me?"
Z focused on Butch for the first time since the male had come into the room ten minutes ago. He was about to answer the human's question when his instincts fired up. Cocking his head, he sniffed a little. Stared at the man. What the fuck…?
"Cop, where have you been since I saw you last?"
"Nowhere."
"You smell different."
Butch flushed. "New aftershave."
"No. No, that's not—"
"So do you want a ride?" Butch's hazels hardened as if he wasn't going to go a single inch further on the subject.
Z shrugged. "Okay, yeah. And let's get Phury. We'll both go with you."
Fifteen minutes later they were pulling away from the clinic. On the way to the mansion Z sat in the back of the Escalade and stared at the passing winter landscape. It was snowing again, the flakes streaking horizontally as the SUV sped down Route 22. From the front seats, he could hear Phury and Butch talking in low tones, but they sounded far, far away. Actually, everything felt that way… out of focus, out of context…
"Home sweet home, gentlemen," Butch said as they pulled into the compound's courtyard.
Jesus. They were back already?
The three of them got out and headed for the mansion, the fresh snow squeaking under their boots. As soon as they walked into the foyer the females of the house came at them. Or rather, came at Phury. Mary and Beth threw their arms around the Brother, their voices a lovely chorus of welcome.
As Phury wrapped the females up in his arms, Z stepped back into the shadows. He watched covertly, wondering what it would feel like to be in that knot of limbs, wishing there were a welcome-home for him.
There was an awkward pause as Mary and Beth glanced over at him from Phury's embrace. The females quickly looked away, avoiding his eyes.
"So, Wrath is upstairs," Beth said, "waiting for you guys with the Brothers."
"Any word about Tohr?" Phury asked.
"No, and it's killing everyone. John, too."
"I'll go see the kid later."
Mary and Beth gave Phury a final squeeze; then he and Butch headed for the stairs. Z followed.
"Zsadist?"
He looked over his shoulder at the sound of Beth's voice. She was standing with her arms over her chest, and Mary was right by her side, looking similarly tense.
"We're glad you made it back," the queen said.
Z frowned, knowing that couldn't be true. He didn't imagine they liked having him around.
Mary spoke up. "I lit a candle for you. I prayed that you would come home safely."
A candle… lit for him? Only for him? As the blood hit his face, he felt pathetic that the kindness meant so much.
"Thank you." He bowed to them and then rushed up the stairs, sure he was the color of a ruby. God… Maybe he'd get better at the whole relating thing. Someday.
Except when he walked into Wrath's study and felt the eyes of his Brothers all over him, he thought, Maybe not. He couldn't stand the scrutiny; it was too much when he was this raw. As his hands started to shake, he shoved them into his pockets and went to his usual corner, far away from the others.
"I don't want anyone going out to fight tonight," Wrath announced. "We're all too much in our heads right now to be effective. And I want you boys back in the house by four A.M. As soon as the sun rises we'll be in mourning for Wellsie all day long, so I want you fed and watered before we get down to that. As for her Fade ceremony, we can't perform it without Tohr, so that's on hold."
"I can't believe no one knows where he's gone," Phury said.
Vishous lit up a hand-rolled. "I go to his house every night, and still there's no sign of him. His doggen haven't seen him or heard from him. He left his daggers. His weapons. His clothes. The cars. He could be anywhere."
"What about the training?" Phury asked. "Do we keep it up?"
Wrath shook his head. "I'd like to, but we're damn short-handed, and I don't want to overwork you. Especially because you need time to recover—"
"I can help," Z interjected.
All heads turned in his direction. The disbelief on their faces would have been a laugh riot if it hadn't stung as much as it did.
He cleared his throat. "I mean, Phury would be in charge, and he'd have to do the classroom shit because I can't read. But I'm good with a knife, you know. Fists, too. Guns. Explosives. I could help with the physical training and the weapons parts." When there was no response, he looked down. "Yeah, or maybe not. It's cool. Whatever."
The silence that followed made him itchy as hell. He shuffled his legs around. Eyed the door.
Fuck me, he thought. He should have kept his yap shut.
"I think that would be great," Wrath said slowly. "But are you sure you'd be into it?"
Z shrugged. "I could try."
More quiet. "Okay… so be it. And thanks for manning up."
"Sure. Ah, no problem."
When they broke a half hour later, Z was the first to leave the study. He didn't want to talk to the brothers about what he'd volunteered to do or how he was feeling. He knew they were all curious about him, probably looking for signs that he'd been redeemed or some shit.
He went back to his room to arm himself. He had a hard task in front of him, a long, hard task, and he wanted to get it over with.
Except as he went for the weapons cabinet inside his closet, his eyes latched onto the black satin robe Bella had worn so often. Days ago, he'd thrown it in the trash in the bathroom, but Fritz had obviously picked it out and hung it back up. Z leaned forward and touched the thing, then took it off the hanger, draped it over his arm, and stroked the smooth cloth. He brought it to his nose and breathed deep, catching both her scent and the smell of his bonding for her.
He was about to put the
thing back when he caught sight of something flashing as it fell onto the floor at his feet. He bent down. Bella's little necklace. Left behind.
He fingered the fragile chain for a while, just watching the diamonds sparkle; then he put it on and got out his weapons. As he stepped back into the bedroom he meant to leave right away, but his eyes caught sight of the Mistress's skull sitting next to his pallet.
Crossing the room, he knelt in front of the thing and stared into the eye sockets.
A moment later he went to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and headed back for the skull. Draping the thing in terry cloth, he picked it up and moved fast, racewalking and then jogging down the hall of statues. He took the grand staircase to the first floor, cut through the dining room and the butler's pantry, then crossed the kitchen.
The basement stairs were way in the back, and he didn't turn the light on as he took them downward. As he descended, the roaring sound of the mansion's old-fashioned coal-burning furnace got louder.
Approaching the great iron beast he felt its warmth, as if the thing were alive and fevered. He leaned down and looked through the little glass window in the hutch. Orange flames licked and gnawed at the coal they'd been given, always hungry for more food. He flipped the latch, opened the door, and got a blast in the face. Without hesitating he tossed the skull in with the towel.
He didn't wait around to watch it burn, just turned and headed back upstairs.
When he got to the foyer he paused, then walked up to the second floor. At the head of the stairs he took a right, went down the hall, and knocked on one of the doors.
Rhage opened the thing, a towel around his waist. He seemed surprised to see who it was. "Hey, my brother."
"Can I talk to Mary for a minute?"
Hollywood frowned, but said over his shoulder, "Mary, Z wants to see you."
Mary was pulling a silk dressing gown closed and tying it with a sash as she came to the door. "Hi."
"You mind if I do this in private?" Z said, glancing at Rhage.
As the brother's eyebrows got real low, Z thought, Yeah, bonded males didn't like their females alone with anyone else. Especially not him.
He rubbed his skull trim. "It'll just be here in the hall. Won't take long."