"I love you," he said. Then he pulled back, took off his watch, and put the Rolex in her hand. "Keep this for me."
He went over to the closet and shed his clothes. Way in the back, behind another two pairs of pajamas he was never going to use, he found his ceremonial black robe. He drew the heavy silk on over his naked skin and belted it with a thick strip of braided leather.
When he came out, Mary said, "You look like you're going to a monastery."
"Tell me you will be here when I come back."
After a moment, she nodded.
He pulled the robe's hood into place. "Good. That's good."
"Rhage, what's going on?"
"Just wait for me. Please, wait for me." As he got to the door, he took one last look at her in his bed.
This was their first good-bye that had teeth, their first separation where, when they were reunited, he'd feel the awful distance of time and experience. He knew tonight was going to be hard to get through. He just hoped that when he came out on the other side, the aftermath of the punishment didn't linger too long. And that she was still with him.
"I'll see you later, Mary," he said as he shut her in his room.
When he walked into Wrath's study, he closed the double doors behind himself. All the brothers were there, and no one was talking. The scent of unease permeated the room, smelling like rubbing alcohol.
Wrath came forward from behind the desk, looking as rigid as Tohr had. From behind his wraparound sunglasses, the king's stare was piercing, something felt, though not seen.
"Brother."
Rhage bowed his head. "My lord."
"You wear that robe as if you want to stay with us."
"Of course I do."
Wrath nodded once. "Here is the pronouncement, then. The Scribe Virgin has determined that you offended the Brotherhood in both defying Tohr's orders and by bringing a human onto our turf. I'll be honest with you, Rhage, she wants to override my decision about Mary. She wants the human out."
"You know where that leads."
"I told her you were prepared to walk."
"That probably cheered her up." Rhage smirked. "She's been trying to get rid of me for years."
"Well, it's your choice now, brother. If you want to remain with us, and if the human is to continue to be sheltered within these walls, the Scribe Virgin has demanded that you offer a rythe."
The ritualistic way of assuaging offense was a logical punishment. When a rythe was tendered and accepted, the offender allowed the object of his insult free use of a weapon against him without putting up a defense. The offended could choose anything from a knife to a set of brass knuckles to a gun, provided the wound inflicted was not mortal.
"I so offer the rythe," Rhage said.
"It must be one to each of us."
There was a collective groan in the room. Someone muttered, "Fuck."
"I so offer them."
"Be it as you wish, brother."
"But" - Rhage hardened his voice - "I offer them only on the understanding that if the ritual is observed, Mary stays for however long I want."
"That was my agreement with the Scribe Virgin. And you should know she came around only after I told her you wanted to take the human as your shellan. I think Her Holiness was shocked you could even consider that kind of commitment." Wrath looked over his shoulder. "Tohrment is to choose the weapon that all of us will use."
"The tri-whip," Tohr said in a low voice.
Oh, shit. This was going to hurt.
There were more mutters.
"So be it," Wrath said.
"Except what about the beast?" Rhage asked. "It can come out when I'm in pain."
"The Scribe Virgin will be there. She said she has a way of keeping it at bay."
But of course she would. She'd cooked the damn thing up in the first place.
"We're going to do this tonight, right?" Rhage glanced around the room. "I mean, there's no reason to wait."
"We'll go to the Tomb now."
"Good. Let's get it over with."
Zsadist was the first to leave as the group got to their feet and worked out logistics in quiet tones. Tohr needed a robe, did someone have an extra one? Phury announced he'd bring the weapon. V offered the Escalade to take them all down together.
The latter was good thinking. They were going to need something to get him home in after the rythe was over.
"My brothers?" he said.
They all stopped talking, stopped moving. He looked at each one, noting the grim casts to their faces. They hated this, and he understood perfectly. Hurting any one of them would have been unbearable for him. It was much better to be on the receiving end.
"I have one request, my brothers. Don't bring me back here, okay? When it's over, take me somewhere else. I don't want Mary to see me like that."
Vishous spoke up. "You can stay at the Pit. Butch and I will take care of you."
Rhage smiled. "Twice in a less than a week. You two could hire out as nursemaids after this."
V clapped him on the shoulder and then left. Tohr followed, doing the same. Phury gave him a hug as he passed by.
Wrath paused on his way out.
When the king remained silent, Rhage squeezed the male's bicep. "I know, my lord. I'd feel the same way if I were you. But I'm tough. I can take it."
Wrath reached into the hood and took Rhage's face into his palms, tilting it down. He kissed Rhage's forehead and held the contact between them, a pledge of respect from the king to his warrior, a reaffirmation of their bond.
"I'm glad you're staying with us," Wrath said softly. "I would have hated to lose you."
About fifteen minutes later, they reconvened down in the courtyard by the Escalade. The brothers were all barefoot and wearing black robes. With the hoods up, it was hard to tell who was who, except for Phury. His prosthetic foot showed, and he had a bulging duffel bag slung over his shoulder. No doubt he'd thrown bandages and rolling tape into the thing as well as the weapon.
Everyone was silent as V drove them behind the house and into the mountain's thick beard of pines and hemlocks. The road was a single dirt lane, crowded by the evergreen trees.
As they shot along, Rhage couldn't stand the tense silence a minute longer.
"Oh, for God's sake, my brothers. You're not going to kill me. Could we lighten up a little?"
No one would look at him.
"V, put on some Luda or Fifty, will ya? All this quiet is boring."
Phury's laugh came out of the robe on the right. "Only you could try to turn this into a party."
"Well, hell, you've all wanted to nail me a good one for some shit I've popped, right? This is your lucky day." He clapped Phury on the thigh. "I mean, come on, my brother, I've ridden you for years about the no females. And Wrath, a couple months ago I needled you until you stabbed a wall. V, just the other day you threatened to use that hand of yours on me. Remember? When I told you what I thought about that goatee monstrosity?"
V chuckled. "I had to do something to shut you up. Every damn time I've run into you since I grew it, you ask me if I've French-kissed a tailpipe."
"And I'm still convinced you're doing my GTO, you bastard."
That got the ball rolling. Rhage stories started flying around until the voices were so loud, no one could hear anyone else.
As his brothers blew off steam, Rhage settled back against the seat, looking out into the night. He hoped like hell the Scribe Virgin knew what she was doing, because if his beast got loose in the Tomb, his brothers were in deep shit. And they just might have to kill him after all.
He frowned and looked around. He located Wrath behind him. Could tell who it was because the king's black diamond ring was on the male's middle finger.
Rhage arched back and whispered, "My lord, I beg of a favor."
Wrath leaned forward, his voice deep and even. "What do you need?"
"If I don't... make it through this, for whatever reason, I beg of you to watch over Mary."
The hood nodded. In the Old Language, the king said, "As you wish, so I am sworn. I shall look upon her as I would my own blooded sister and caretake her as I would any female of mine own family."
Rhage exhaled. "That is good. That is... good."
Soon enough, V parked the Escalade in a small clearing. They got out and stood around, listening, looking, sensing.
All things considered it was a nice evening, and this was a serene place to be. The breeze winding its way through the countless branches and trunks of the forest carried a pleasing smell of earth and pine. Overhead, a fat moon glowed through milky clouds.