by J. R. Ward
She had disappeared from Manuel’s sight. But she hadn’t left him.
Even though he had proved capable of taking care of himself, she wasn’t trusting his life to anyone or anything. Accordingly, she’d coated herself in mhis and stood on the lawn at the equine hospital, watching him speak with the police and the security guard. And then when he’d gotten in the car, she had followed, dematerializing from spot to spot, tracking him thanks to the small amount of blood he’d tasted of her.
His trip home had culminated in the depths of a city that was smaller than the one that she had seen from his car, but was still impressive, with its tall buildings and paved streets and beautiful, soaring bridges that spanned a broad river. Caldwell was indeed lovely at night.
Would that she had come for aught but an invisible good-bye.
When Manuel had pulled into some kind of underground facility for vehicles, she had let him go on his own. Her purpose had been served when he had safely reached this destination so she’d known she had to depart.
Alas, however, she had tarried down at street level, standing in her mhis, watching the cars go by and seeing pedestrians cross corner to corner. An hour had passed. And then some more time. And still she couldn’t leave.
Giving in to her heart, she had gone up, up, up . . . honing in on where Manuel was, taking form on this terrace outside his home . . . and finding him in the midst of leaving the kitchen to walk through his living room. Clearly unsteady on his feet, he kept running into pieces of furniture—although likely not because the lights were off.’Twas the drink in his hand, no doubt.
Or more accurately, all the drink he’d taken in addition to it.
In his bedroom, he didn’t disrobe so much as dishevel himself out of his clothes, and then he was into the shower. When he emerged dripping wet, she wanted to cry. It seemed so very hard to comprehend that merely a day separated her and him from the time she had first witnessed him thus—although, indeed, she felt as if she could almost reach through time and touch those electric moments when they had been on the verge of . . . not just a present, but a future.
No longer.
Over at the bed, he sat down . . . then fell over onto the mattress.
When he went to wipe his eyes, her devastation was complete. And so was her need to go to him—
“Payne.”
With a yelp, she spun about. Across the terrace, standing in the breeze . . . was her twin. And the instant she laid eyes upon Vishous, she knew something had changed within him. Yes, his face was already healing up from the damage he’d inflicted upon it with the mirror—but that was not what had altered. The inside of him was different: Gone were the tension and the anger and the frightening coldness.
As the wind whipped her hair around, she quickly tried to compose herself, swiping clear the tears that had glossed over her eyes. “How did you know . . . I was . . .”
With his gloved hand, he pointed upward. “I have a place here. On the top of the building. Jane and I were just leaving when I sensed you were down here.”
She should have known. Just as she could sense his mhis . . . he could feel and find hers.
And how she wished he had just kept going. The last thing she needed was another round of a male figure of “authority” telling her what she had to do. Besides, the king had already laid down the law. It wasn’t as if Wrath’s decree needed buttressing from the likes of her brother.
She put her hand up to stop him before he said one word about Manuel. “I am not interested in your telling me what our king already has. And I was just leaving.”
“Is he scrubbed.”
She kicked up her chin. “No, he is not. He took me out and there was an . . . incident—”
The snarl her brother released was louder than the wind. “What did he do to—”
“Not him. Fates, will you just . . . stop hating him.” As she rubbed her temples, she wondered if anyone’s head had actually ever exploded—or whether everybody on earth just felt that way from time to time. “We were attacked by a human and in the process of disarming him—”
“The human?”
“Yes—in the process of that, I hurt the man and the police were called—”
“You disarmed a human?”
Payne glared at her twin. “When you remove a gun from someone, that is what it is called, is it not.”
Vishous’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. It is.”
“I could not scrub Manuel’s memories because he would not have been able to field the questions put to him from the police. And I am here . . . because I wanted to see him home safely.”
In the silence that followed, she realized she had just backed herself into a corner. By having to protect Manuel, she had just proven her twin’s point that the male she wanted could not take care of her. Oh, but what did it matter. Given that she was prepared to obey the king, there was no future for her and Manuel anyway.
When Vishous went to open his mouth, she moaned and put her hands to her ears. “If you have any compassion at all, you will leave me to mourn here alone. I cannot listen to all the reasons I must needs separate myself from him—I know them all. Please. Just go.”
Closing her eyes, she turned away and prayed to their mother above that he would do as she asked—
The hand on her shoulder was weighty and warm. “Payne. Payne, look at me.”
With no energy left to fight, she dropped her arms and met his grim eyes.
“Answer me one thing,” her twin said.
“What.”
“Do you love the bas—him. Do you love him?”
Payne looked back through the glass at the human on the bed. “Yes. I am in love with him. And if you try to dissuade me by the fact that I have not lived yet enough to judge, I say unto you . . . fuck off. I need not know the world to realize my heart’s desire.”
There was a long silence. “What did Wrath say?”
“The same thing you would. That I must erase myself from his memory and never, ever see him again.”
When her brother did not say anything further, she shook her head. “Why are you still here, Vishous. Are you trying to think of what to say to get me to go home? Let me save you the effort—when dawn comes, I shall go—and I shall abide by the rules, but not because it is good for you or the king or myself. It is because it’s safest for him—he does not need enemies such as yourself and the Brotherhood to torture him just because I feel as I do. So it will be done just as you wish. Except”—at this, she glared at him—“I will not scrub him. His mind is too valuable to waste—and it cannot withstand another episode. I shall keep him safe by ne’er coming here again, but I will not condemn him to a life of dementia. That is not going to happen—he has done nothing but help me. He deserves better than to be used and discarded.”
Payne returned her eyes to the glass.
And after a long while of silence, she assumed that her twin had left. So she nearly screamed when he stepped in front of her and blocked the view of Manuel.
“Are you still here,” she snapped.
“I’ll take care of it for you.”
Payne recoiled and then growled, “Do not you dare think of killing him—”
“With Wrath. I’ll take care of it. I’ll . . .” Vishous scrubbed his hair. “I’ll work something out so you can keep him.”
Payne blinked. And then felt her mouth drop open. “What . . . what did you say?”
“I’ve known Wrath for a lot of years. And technically, according to the Old Laws, I’m the head of our little happy family down here. I’ll go to him and tell him that I approve of this . . . match and that I think you should be able to see the bas—guy. Man. Manello.” He cleared his throat. “Wrath is very security-conscious, but with the mhis around the compound . . . Manello couldn’t find us if he wanted to. Besides, it’s hypocritical to deny you what other Brothers have done from time to time. Fuck it, Darius had a kid with a human woman—and Wrath’s now married to that young. Matter of fact—if you had t
ried to separate our king from his Beth when he’d met her? He’d have killed anyone who even made the suggestion. Rhage’s Mary? Same diff. And it should . . . be likewise for you. I’ll even talk to Mahmen, if I have to.”
Payne put her palm up to her pounding heart. “I . . . don’t understand why you would . . . do this?”
He glanced over his shoulder, staring at the human she loved. “You’re my sister. And he’s what you want.” He shrugged. “And . . . well, I fell in love with a human. I fell in love with my Jane within an hour of meeting her—and . . . yeah. I’ve got nothing without her. If what you feel for Manello is even half what I have for my shellan, your life is never going to be complete without him—”
Payne tackled her brother in an embrace. Nearly knocked him right off his feet. “Oh . . . brother mine . . . !”
His arms came around her and held her. “I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”
“You were . . .” She searched for another word. “Yes, you were such an asshole.”
He laughed, the sound rumbling up through his chest. “See? We can agree on something.”
As she held on to him, she said, “Thank you . . . thank you . . .”
After a moment, he pulled back. “Let me talk to Wrath first before you go to Manello, okay? I want to work it all out beforehand—and yes, I’m going home right now. Jane’s doing rounds and the Brotherhood is off tonight, so I should get right in with the king.” There was a pause. “I only want one thing from you in return.”
“What. Anything. Name it.”
“If you’re going to hang around until dawn, go inside. It’s fucking freezing as shit out here, true.” He stepped back. “Go on . . . go hang with your . . . male. . . .” He rubbed his eyes and she had a feeling he was remembering what he’d walked in on when she’d been in the shower with her healer. “I’ll come back . . . ah, call. . . . Do you have a phone? Here, take my—Fuck, I don’t have it.”
“It is okay, brother mine. I shall return at dawn.”
“Good, yeah—I should know by then.”
She stared at him. “I love you.”
Now he smiled. Broadly, and without reserve. Reaching out, he brushed her face. “I love you, too, sis. Now get in there and get warm.”
“I shall.” She jumped up and kissed him on the cheek. “I shall!”
With a wave, she dematerialized through the glass.
Oh, how the interior felt hot in comparison to the terrace . . . or perhaps it was the rush of joy that had spread throughout her. Whatever it was, she did a spin on one foot and then went over to the bed.
Manuel was not just aslumber, but passed out—she did not care, though. Climbing onto the bed, she put an arm around him—and instantly, he groaned and turned to her, pulling her close, holding her. As their bodies melded together, and his erection pushed into her hip, her eyes shot to the terrace.
No reason to force their luck with Vishous—but alas, he was gone.
Grinning in the dark, she got comfortable and stroked her male’s shoulder. This was all going to work out, and the key was the overwhelming logic that Vishous had detailed. In fact, the argument was so dispositive, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it herself.
Wrath might not like it; however, he was going to agree because facts were facts—and he was a fair ruler who had proven time and again that he was not a slave to the old ways.
As she settled in, she knew there was no chance she was going to fall asleep and thereby run the risk of getting burned by the sun: She was incandescent herself as she lay on the bed beside Manuel, glowing so bright she cast shadows in the room.
No sleeping for her.
She just wanted to enjoy this feeling.
Forever.
FORTY-FIVE
Vishous got home in the blink of an eye, and after he checked in with Jane in the clinic, he headed for the big house through the underground tunnel. As he came out in the foyer, all he heard was a resounding nothing-much-at-all and he was uncomfortable with the silence.
So frickin’ quiet.
Of course, typically, this would be because it was two a.m. and the Brothers would be out in the field. Tonight, though, everyone was hunkered down, probably having sex, recovering from sex, or in the midst of doing it again.
I feel like I’ve made love to you for the very first time.
As Jane’s voice came back at him, he didn’t know whether to smile or kick his own ass. But whatever, it was a brave new world for him, starting tonight—not that he was entirely sure what that meant, but he was on it. He was so on it.
Hitting the grand staircase, he beelined for Wrath’s study, while patting every pocket he didn’t have. He was still in the damn johnny. With the bloodstains. And no damn cigs.
“Son of a bitch.”
“Sire? Do you require aught?”
As he stopped at the head of the stairs, he looked over at Fritz, who was cleaning the banister, and nearly kissed the butler on the piehole. “I’m out of my tobacco. Rolling papers—”
The old doggen smiled so widely, the wrinkles in his face made him look like a Shar-Pei. “I have more of it all down in the pantry. I shall be right back—are you going in to meet with the king?”
“Yeah.”
“I shall bring them to you there—as well as a robe, perhaps?”
The second half was said delicately.
“Shit, thank you, Fritz. You’re a lifesaver.”
“No, you are, sire.” He bowed. “You and the Brotherhood save us all each night.”
Fritz scurried along his way, going down the staircase with more spring in his step than you’d expect. Then again, he loved nothing more than to be of service. Which was very cool.
Right. Time to go to work.
Feeling like a total reject in the johnny, V marched over to the closed doors of Wrath’s study, curled up a fist and knocked.
The king’s voice came through the heavy wood panels: “Come in.”
V pushed inside. “It’s me.”
“S’up, brother.”
At the far end of the pansy-ass colored room, Wrath was behind his massive desk, sitting on his father’s throne. Down on the floor beside him, lying on a personalized Orvis dog bed in royal red, George lifted his blond head and pricked his perfect triangle ears. The golden retriever thumped his tail in greeting, but did not leave his master’s side.
The king and his Seeing Eye dog were never apart. And not just because Wrath needed the help.
“So, V.” Wrath eased back in the carved chair, his hand falling down to stroke his dog’s head. “Your scent is interesting.”
“Is it.” V took the seat across from the king, putting his palms on his thighs and squeezing in an attempt to distract himself from his nicotine craving.
“You left the door open.”
“Fritz is bringing me some smokes.”
“You’re not lighting up around my dog.”
Fuck. “Ah . . .” He’d forgotten the new rule . . . and asking George to take a breather was a no-go—after all, Wrath may have lost his sight, but the fucker was still deadly, and V had gotten enough of the S and M tonight, thank you very much.
Fritz came in just as the king’s black brows dropped behind his wraparounds.
“Sire, your tobacco,” the butler said happily.
“Thanks, my man.” V accepted the rolling papers and the pouch . . . and the lighter that the doggen had thoughtfully provided. As well as the robe.
The door shut.
V looked over at the dog. George’s big boxy head was down on his paws, his kind brown eyes seeming to apologize for the shutdown on the whole light-up routine. He even gave a tentative tip-of-the-tail wag.
Vishous stroked the bag of Turkish delicious like a pathetic loser. “Mind if I just rolled up a couple?”
“One flick of the flint and I’ll pound you into the carpet.”
“Roger that.” V lined things up on the desk. “I’ve come to talk about Payne.”
&n
bsp; “How is your sis?”
“She’s . . . amazing.” He cracked open his pouch, took an inhale and had to suck back his mmmm. “It worked—I’m not sure how, but she’s up and around, true. On her feet, good as new.”
The king eased forward. “No . . . shit? For real?”
“One hundred.”
“It’s a miracle.”
Named Manuel Manello, evidently. “You could say that.”
“Well, this is great fucking news. You want to get her a room in here? Fritz can—”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
As those brows disappeared under the wraparounds again, V thought, man, even though the king was fully blind, he still appeared to focus like he always did. Which kind of made you feel like you had a gunsight trained on your frontal lobe.
V started laying out little white squares. “It’s that human surgeon.”
“Oh . . . for shit’s sake.” Wrath popped his sunglasses onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes. “Do not crank my crap out and tell me they’ve hooked up.”
V remained silent, grabbing the pouch and busying himself with the pinching stage of things.
“I’m waiting for you to tell me I got it wrong.” Wrath let his glasses fall back into place. “Still waiting.”
“She’s in love with him.”
“And you’re okay with this?”
“Of course not. But she could date a Brother and the motherfucker wouldn’t be good enough for her.” He picked up one of the loaded papers and began rolling. “So . . . if she wants him, I say live and let live.”
“V . . . I know what angle you’re going to take and I can’t allow it.”
Vishous stopped in mid-lick and considered bringing Beth into the happy convo. But the king already looked like he was getting a headache. “The hell you can’t allow it. Rhage and Mary—”
“Rhage got beaten, remember? For a reason. Besides, times are changing, V. The war is heating up, the Lessening Society is recruiting like a motherfucker—and on top of that, there’s the sliced-not-diced, halvsie shit you found downtown last night.”
Goddamn it, V thought. Those slaughtered slayers . . .
“Plus I just got this.” Without looking, Wrath patted to the left and held up a page of Braille. “It’s a copy of a letter that was e-mailed to what’s left of the Founding Families. Xcor has relocated with his boys—which was why you found those lessers in the condition you did.”