Lover Awakened (60 page)

"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 Forty-eight

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."

Mary stepped between them and nudged her
hellren
back into the room. "It's all right, Rhage. Go finish getting the tub ready."

Rhage's eyes flashed white as his beast checked in with its own bonded reaction. There was a weighty pause; then Mary was kissed soundly on the throat and the door shut.

"What is it?" she asked. Z could smell her fear of him, but she met him in the eye.

He always had liked her, he thought. "I heard you taught autistic kids."

"Ah… yes, I did."

"Were they slow at learning things?"

She frowned. "Well, yes. Sometimes."

"Did that…" He cleared his throat. "Did that get on your nerves? I mean, did you get frustrated with them?"

"No. If I got disappointed at all, it was with myself for not figuring out the way they needed to learn."

While he nodded, he had to look away from her gray eyes. He focused on the door panel next to her head.