"I watched her get into a car with a male."
"How long ago?"
"Like three months. Palmed a Glock when I saw it happen."
Silence. "Butch, humans do not bond like we do."
"I know."
More silence. Then, "Any chance you were adopted?"
"No. And there are no fangs in the family, if that's what you're thinking. V, man, I drank some of you. Are you sure that I haven't become - "
"Genetics is the only way. That bite/turning thing's just bullshit folklore. Look, I'll let you through the gates and we'll talk after you see her. Oh, and check it. Wrath has no problem working over lessers to find out what happened to you. But he doesn't want you involved."
Butch's hand cranked hard on the steering wheel. "Fuck. That. I spent hours earning the right for payback, V. I bled for the right to knock those ass**les around and get my own answers."
"Wrath - "
"Is a nice guy, but he ain't my king. So he can lay down on this."
"He just wants to protect you."
"Tell him I don't need the favor."
V let off a foul-sounding line or two in the Old Language, then muttered, "Fine."
"Thank you."
"One last deet, cop. Marissa's a guest of the Brotherhood's. If she doesn't want to see you, we're going to haul your ass out, true?"
"If she doesn't want to see me, I'll leave on my own. I swear."
Chapter Seventeen
When Marissa heard a knock on the door, she cracked her eyes open and checked the clock. Ten in the morning and she hadn't slept at all. God, she was exhausted.
But maybe it was Fritz with a report on her things. "Yes?"
The door opened to reveal a big dark shadow with a baseball hat.
She sat up, keeping the covers to her bare br**sts. "Butch?"
"Hi." He removed the cap from his head, crushing it in one hand, scrubbing his hair around with the other.
She willed a candle to light. "What are you doing here?"
"Ah... I wanted to make sure you were okay in person. Plus your phone..." His eyebrows lifted as if he'd caught sight of the cord she'd ripped out of the wall. "Um, yeah... your phone isn't working. Mind if I come in for a minute?"
As she took a deep breath, all she smelled was him, the scent going in her nose and blooming all over her body.
Bastard, she thought. Irresistible bastard.
"Marissa, I won't crowd you, I promise. And I know you're pissed off. But can we just talk?"
"Fine," she said, shaking her head. "But don't think we're going to solve anything."
As he stepped forward, it dawned on her that this was a bad idea. If he wanted to talk, she should meet him downstairs. After all, he was very male. And she was very naked. And they were now... yup, shut in a bedroom together.
Good planning. Excellent work. Maybe she should jump out a window next.
Butch leaned back against the door he'd closed. "First, are you all right here?"
"Yes, I am." God, this was awkward. "Butch - "
"I'm sorry I got all Humphrey Bogart, big man on you." His bruised face assumed a wince. "It's not that I don't think you can take care of yourself. I'm absolutely scared shitless of myself and I can't handle the idea of you getting hurt."
Marissa stared at him. See, this was simply awful. This humble apology stuff was liable to get through to her if he kept it up. "Butch - "
"Wait, please - just hear me out. Hear me out and then I'll leave." He inhaled slowly, his big chest expanding under his fine black coat. "Keeping you away from me seems like the only way to make sure you're safe. But that's about me being dangerous, not you being weak. I know you don't need to be sheltered or have some kind of caretaker."
In the long silence that followed, she measured him. "So prove it, Butch. Tell me what really happened to you. There was no car accident, was there?"
He rubbed his eyes. "I got jacked by some lessers." As she gasped, he said quickly, "It was no big deal. Honestly - "
She put her hand up. "Stop. Give me all of it or none of it. I don't want half-truths. It demeans us both."
He cursed. Did some more eye scrubbing.
"Butch, talk or get out."
"Okay... okay." His hazel stare lifted to her face. "As far as we can figure, I was interrogated for twelve hours."
She gripped the sheets hard enough to numb out her fingers. "Interrogated... how?"
"I don't remember much, but based on the damage, I'd say pretty standard stuff."
"Standard... stuff?"
"Electroshock, bare-knuckle punches, under-the-fingernails shit." As he stopped, she was very certain the list continued.
A wash of bile bubbled up her throat. "Oh... God..."
"Don't think about it. It's over. Done with."
Sweet Virgin in the Fade, how could he say that?
"Why - " She cleared her throat. And thought that she'd wanted the whole story so she damn well better show him she could handle it. "Why were you quarantined, then?"
"They put something in me." He untucked his silk button-down and flashed his black abdominal scar. "V found me left for dead in the woods and took out whatever it was, but now I'm like... connected to the lessers." As she stiffened, he dropped the shirt. "Yeah, the slayers, Marissa. The ones who are trying to exterminate your kind. So believe me when I tell you, my need to know what was done to me isn't some kind of kumbaya, find-my-inner-self bullshit. Your enemies tampered with my body. They put something inside of me."
"Are you... one of them?"
"I don't want to be. And I don't want to hurt you or anyone else. But see, this is the problem. There's too much shit I don't know."
"Butch, let me help you."
He cursed. "What if - "
"What if's don't cut it." She took a deep breath. "I won't lie. I'm scared. But I don't want to turn my back on you and you're a fool to try and make me."
He shook his head, respect in his eyes. "You always been this courageous?"
"No. But it appears that for you, I guess I am. Are you going to let me in?"
"I want to. I feel like I need to." But it was quite a while before he crossed the room. "Is it okay for me to sit next to you?"
When she nodded and moved over, he lowered himself onto the bed, the mattress dipping down from his weight, her body sliding into his. He stared at her for the longest time before reaching for her hand. God, his palm was so warm and big.
He bent down and brushed his lips over her knuckles, then rubbed his mouth back and forth. "I want to lie down next to you. Not for sex. Not for anything like that. Just - "
"Yes."
As he stood up, she lifted the sheets, but he shook his head. "I stay on top."
He took off his coat and stretched out beside her. Pulled her up close. Kissed the top of her head.
"You seem really tired," he said in the candlelight.
"I feel really tired."
"So sleep and let me watch over you."
She wedged herself even more tightly against his big body and exhaled. It was so good just to rest her head on his chest and feel his warmth and smell him up close. He stroked her back slowly, and she fell asleep so fast she didn't realize she'd gone under until she felt the bed moving and woke up.
"Butch?"
"I've got to go talk with Vishous." He kissed the back of her hand. "You keep resting. I don't like how pale you are."
She smiled a little. "No caretaking."
"That was just a suggestion." His lips lifted on one side. "How about we meet before First Meal? I'll wait for you downstairs in the library."
When she nodded, he leaned forward and ran his fingertip down her cheek. Then he glanced at her lips and the scent he was throwing off abruptly got stronger.
Their eyes locked.
It took less than a second before a craving lit off in her veins, a kind of burning, clenching need. Of their own accord, her eyes shifted from his face to his throat and her fangs began to throb as her reality shrunk to nothing but instinct: She wanted to pierce his thick vein. She wanted to feed from him. And she wanted him to have sex with her body while she did.
Bloodlust.
Oh, God. That's was why she was so tired. She hadn't been able to feed from Rehvenge the other night, and then there had been all the stress of Butch being so ill, followed by his taking off. Plus the thing with Havers.