Lover Revealed (34 page)

"My people keeping you wet enough?" Rehv asked.

Butch nodded. "Very wet."

"That's what I like to hear." The Reverend slid into the booth, his amethyst eyes scanning the VIP section. He looked good, his suit black, his silk shirt black, his mohawk a dark cropped stripe that ran front to back on his skull. "So I want to share a little news."

"You getting married?" Butch tossed back half the new Lag. "Where you registered? Crate and Bury 'Em?"

"Try Heckler and Koch." The Reverend opened his jacket and flashed the butt of a forty.

"Nice little poodle shooter you got there, vampire."

"Put a hell of a—"

V cut in. "You two are like watching tennis, and racquet sports bore me. What's the news?"

Rehv looked at Butch. "He has such phenomenal people skills, doesn't he."

"Try living with him."

The Reverend smirked, then grew serious. As he spoke, his mouth barely moved and his words didn't carry far. "The
Princeps
Council met night before last. Issue was mandatory
sehclusion
for all unmated females. The
leahdyre
wants a recommendation passed and submitted to Wrath ASAP."

V whistled under his breath. "A lockdown."

"Precisely. They're using my sister's abduction and Wellesandra's death as the rationales. Which is some powerful shit, as it should be." The Reverend locked eyes with V. "Word to your boss. The
glymera
is pissed off at these civilian losses all around town. This motion is their warning shot across Wrath's bow and they are dead serious about passing it. The
leahdyre's
all up in my grill because they can't hold a vote unless every member of the council is in the room, and I'm a consistent no-show. I can put off the meeting for a little while, but not forever." At that moment, a cell phone went off in the Reverend's jacket and he took the thing out. "And what do you know, here's Bella now. Hey, sister mine—" The male's eyes flashed and his body shifted. "
Tahlly
?"

Butch frowned, getting the distinct impression that whoever was on that line was a female and not of the sister kind: Rehvenge's body was suddenly throwing off heat like a banked fire.

Man, you had to wonder what kind of woman would tangle with a piece of work like the Reverend. Then again, V was obviously getting laid, so those kind of females were out there.

"Hold on,
tahlly
." Rehv frowned and got to his feet. "Later, gentlemen. And drinks are on me tonight."

"Thanks for the heads-up," V said.

"I'm such a model fucking citizen, aren't I?" Rehv sauntered down to his office and shut himself away.

Butch shook his head. "So the Reverend's got a chippie, huh?"

V grunted. "Pity that female."

"For real." As Butch's stare drifted, he tensed up. That hard-ass female with the men's haircut still had her eyes on him in the shadows.

"Did you do her, cop?" V asked softly.

"Who." He kicked the tail end of the shot.

"You know exactly who I'm asking about."

"None of your biz, roommate."

As Marissa waited for Rehvenge's voice to come back on the line, she wondered where he was. There was a din coming over the connection—music, voices. A party?

The noise cut off sharply, as if he'd closed a door. "
Tahlly
, where are you? Or did Havers get his phones really encrypted?"

"I'm not at home."

Silence. Then, "Are you where I think you are? Are you with the Brotherhood?"

"How did you know?"

He muttered something, then said, "Only one number on the planet this phone can't trace, and it's where my sister calls me from. Now you're pulling the same no-show thing for an ID. What the hell's going on?"

She glossed over the situation, telling him only that she and Havers had argued and she'd needed somewhere to stay.

Rehv cursed. "You should have called me first. I want to take care of you."

"It's complicated. Your mother—"

"You don't worry about her." Rehv's voice smoothed out into a purr. "Come stay with me,
tallhy
. All you have to do is materialize to the penthouse and I'll have you picked up."

"Thank you, but no. I'm only going to be here long enough to get settled somewhere else."

"Settled somewhere—what the hell? This stuff with your brother is
permanent
!"

"It'll be fine. Listen, Rehvenge, I… need you. I need to try again to…" She put her head in her hand. She hated using him, but who else could she go to? And Butch… God, Butch… she felt like she was betraying him. Except what was her alternative?

Rehvenge growled, "When,
tahlly
? When do you want me?"

"Now."

"Just go to—ah, hell, I've got to meet the
Princeps leahdyre
. And then I've got some work-related issues I have to take care of."

She gripped the phone. Waiting was bad. "Tomorrow, then?"

"At nightfall. Unless you want to come and stay at my home. Then we could have… all day long."

"I'll see you first thing tomorrow evening."

"I can't wait,
tahlly
."

After she hung up, she stretched out on the bed and sank into utter exhaustion, her body becoming indistinguishable from the sheets and blankets and pillows, just another inanimate object on top of the mattress.

Oh hell… maybe waiting until tomorrow was better. She could rest up then talk to Butch and let him know what was going on. As long as she wasn't sexually charged, she should be able to control herself around him and this was one conversation that was better to have in person: If humans who were in love were anything like bonded male vampires, Butch wasn't going to handle the fact that she needed to be with someone else well.

With a sigh, she thought about Rehv. Then the
Princeps
Council. Then her sex in general.

God, even if that
sehclusion
motion was defeated by some miracle, there really was no safe place for females to go if they were threatened at home, was there? With the disintegration of vampire society and all the fighting with the
lessers
, there were no social services for the race. No safety net. No one to help females and their young if the
hellren
in their house was violent. Or if the family turned the female away.

Good Lord, what would have happened to her if Beth and Wrath hadn't taken her in? Or if she didn't have Rehvenge?

She might well have died.

* * *

Down in the compound's training center, John was the first in the locker room after the in-class session was done. He changed quickly into his jockstrap and his
ji
impatient for the fighting practice to begin.

"What's the hurry, John? Oh, wait, you like to get your ass kicked."

John looked over his shoulder. Lash was standing in front of an open locker, taking off a fancy silk shirt. His chest was no bigger than John's and his arms just as thin, but as the guy stared back, his eyes burned like he was the size of a bull.

John met that glare head-on, his body heating up. Man, he was jonesing for Lash to open his mouth and say something else. Just one more thing.

"You gonna pass out on us again, John? Like the pansy you are?"

Bingo.

John launched himself at the kid but didn't get far. Blay-lock, the redhead, caught him and held him back, trying to derail the fight. But Lash didn't have any such deadweight. The bastard drew his fist back and threw a right hook so hard that John spun out of Blaylock's hold and hit the bank of lockers with a metal bang.

Stunned, breath knocked out of him, John reached out blindly.

Blaylock caught him again. "
Jesus Christ
, Lash—"

"What? He was coming at me."

"Because you were
begging
for it."

Lash's eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"

"You don't have to be such an asshole."

As Lash pointed at Blaylock, his Jacob & Co. watch sparkled under the lights like it was a battery-powered twinkler.

"Careful, Blay. Playing on his team ain't such a hot idea." The guy shook out his hand and dropped his pants. "Man, that felt good. How was it on your end, John-boy?"

John let that one go and pushed himself free. As his face throbbed to the beat of his heart, he thought of a car blinker for some absurd reason.

Oh, Lord… how bad was the damage? He stumbled over to the row of sinks, and in the long mirror that ran down the length of the wall, he got a look at his puss. Great. Just great. His chin and lip were already swelling.

Blaylock appeared behind him with a cold bottle of water. "Put this on it."

John took the icy Aquafma and eased it onto his face. Then he closed his eyes to avoid seeing either himself or the redhead.

"You want me to tell Zsadist you're not training tonight?"

John shook his head.

"You sure?"

Ignoring the question, John gave the water back and walked out to the gym. The other guys followed in a tense group, stomping over the blue mats and lining up next to him.

Zsadist came out of the Equipment Room, took one look at John's face and got good and pissed off. "Everyone put their hands out, palms down." He walked past each trainee until he stopped in front of Lash. "Nice knuckles. Over against the wall."

Lash sauntered across the gym, looking self-satisfied that he wasn't going to have to work out.

Zsadist stopped in front of John's hands. "Turn 'em over."

John did. There was a heartbeat of silence. Then Zsadist gripped John's chin and forced his head up. "Seeing double?"

John shook his head.

"Nauseous?"

John shook his head.

"This hurt?" Zsadist prodded the jaw a little.

John winced. Shook his head.

"Liar. But that's what I want to hear." Z stepped away and addressed the trainees. "Laps. Twenty. And each time you get to your classmate over there, you drop in front of him and do twenty push-ups. Marine style. Move it."

The groans were loud.

"Do I look like I care?" Zsadist whistled through his teeth. "
Move it
."

John started off with the rest of them, thinking this was going to be a really long night. But at least Lash wasn't looking quite so pleased with himself…

Four hours later, it turned out John was right.

By the end of the session, they were all exhausted. Z not only ground them into the mats, he kept them longer than usual. Like, centuries longer than usual. The damn training was so grueling that not even John had the energy to keep practicing after they broke for the night. Instead, he went directly to Tohr's office and collapsed in the chair without even showering.

Curling his legs up tight, he figured he would just rest a minute, then go rinse off—

The door swung open. "You okay?" Zsadist demanded.

John didn't look over, just nodded.

"I'm recommending that Lash get kicked out of the program."

John jerked upright and started shaking his head.

"Whatever, John. That's the second time he's gone after you. Or do I have to remind you of the nunchakus thing a few months back?"

No, John remembered. Shit, though.

With too much to say to be able to sign and have Z catch everything, he reached for his pad and wrote with extra neatness:
If he gets kicked out, I look weak to the others. I want to fight with these guys someday. How can they trust me if they think I'm a lightweight
?

He handed the pad to Zsadist, who held the pages with care in his big hands. The Brother's head dropped low and his brows crunched together, his distorted mouth moving a little as if he were sounding out each word.

When Z was finished, he tossed the pad on the desk. "I won't have that little shit beating on you, John. Just won't have it. But you got a point. I'll slap Lash with some serious probation. But one more of these happy little episodes, and he's out."

Zsadist walked over to the closet where the tunnel access was hidden, then looked over his shoulder. "Listen up, John. I don't want a free-for-all during training. So no going after the bastard even though he deserves it. You just keep your head down and your hands to yourself. Phury and I'll watch him for you, okay?"

John looked away, thinking of how badly he'd wanted to clock Lash. How badly he still wanted to do that.

"John? We clear? No brawling."

After a long moment, John nodded slowly.

And hoped he'd be able to keep his word.

Chapter Twenty-three