Lover Revealed

young is stabilized, but the case history taken by the client's nurse is going to be e-mailed over to you within the hour.'

'Thank you. Will you get a room ready for them downstairs?'

'Yes, mistress.' The doggen bowed and left.

So, Havers was keeping his word, wasn't he.

Marissa frowned, that now perennial sense that she was missing something coming back to her. For some reason, an image of Havers came to mind and wouldn't leave… and that's what brought the shadowed thought to light.

From out of nowhere, she heard her own voice when she'd been talking to Butch: I will not sit back and watch you destroy yourself.

Good God. The exact words her brother had said to her when he'd kicked her out of the house. Oh, sweet Virgin Scribe, she was doing to Butch precisely what Havers had done to her: banishing him under the noble guise of prudent disapproval. Except wasn't the point really about saving herself from feeling scared and out of control because she loved him?

But what about his death wish?

The sight of him facing off against that lesser on the leahdyre's front lawn came to her: Butch had been cautious in that situation. Careful. Not reckless. And he'd moved with skill, not a berserker's messy flailing.

Oh… hell, she thought. What if she'd been wrong? What if Butch could fight? What if he should fight?

Except what about the Evil? The Omega?

Well, the Scribe Virgin had interceded to protect Butch. And he had still been… Butch after the Omega had vanished. What if—

A knock sounded and she jumped to her feet. 'My queen!'

Beth smiled from the doorway, lifting a hand. 'Hi.'

All tangled in her head, Marissa fell into a curtsy, which made Beth shake her head with a chuckle.

'Am I ever going to get you to cut that out?'

'Likely not… It's the burden of my upbringing.' Marissa tried to concentrate. 'Have you… ah, have you come to see what we've done here in the last—'

Bella and Mary appeared behind the queen.

'We want to talk with you,' Beth said. 'It's about Butch.'

Butch stirred in his bed. Cracked open an eye. Cursed as he saw the clock. He'd overslept, probably because of how hard he'd gone the night before. Were three lessers too much in one night? Or maybe it had been feeding—

Oh, hell, no. He was so not thinking of that. Not remembering that.

He rolled over onto his back—

And jacked right off the mattress. 'Oh… fuck.'

Five figures in black hooded robes surrounded his bed.

Wrath's voice came first in the Old Language, then in English: 'There is no going back from the question that shall be posed to you this night. You shall be given it only once, and your answer will stand for the rest of the life you lead. Are you prepared to be asked?'

The Brotherhood. Holy Mary, Mother of God.

'Yes,' Butch breathed, grabbing his cross.

'Then I shall say unto you now, Butch O'Neal descendant of mine own blood, and the blood of mine father, will you join us?'

Oh… shit. Was this real? A dream?

He looked at each one of the hooded figures. 'Yes. Yes, I will join you.'

A black robe was thrown at him. 'Tender this to your skin, raising the hood unto your head. At all times, you shall say nothing unless spoken to. You shall keep your eyes on the ground. Your hands shall be clasped at the small of your back. Your bravery and the honor of the bloodline we share shall be measured in every action you take.'

Butch stood up and pulled on the robe. Wished briefly he could hit the bathroom—

'You will be permitted to empty your body. Do it now.'

When Butch came out, he made sure his head was down and his hands were linked behind him.

As a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, he knew it was Rhage's. No one else's palm weighed so much.

'Come with us now,' Wrath said.

Butch was led out of the Pit and right into the Escalade, the SUV parked practically in the vestibule, as if they didn't want anyone to know what was happening.

After Butch slid into the back, the Escalade's engine turned over and many doors were shut. With a lurch, they slowly progressed through what he assumed was the courtyard until they started to bump along like they were heading over the back lawn and into the woods. No one said a thing, and in the silence he couldn't help wondering what the hell they were going to do to him. For sure this was not going to be a cakewalk.

Eventually the SUV stopped and everyone got out. Trying to follow the rules, Butch stepped to the side and stared at the ground, waiting for someone to lead him. Someone did while the Escalade was driven away.

As Butch shuffled forward he was able to see moonlight on the ground, but then the source of light was abruptly cut off and it became utterly dark. Were they in a cave? Yes… they were. The smell of damp earth filled his nose and beneath his bare feet he could feel small stones taking bites out of his soles.

Some forty steps later he was jerked to a stop. There was a whispering sound and then more walking, now on a downward slope. Another stop. More quiet noises as if a well-oiled gate was being retracted.

Then warmth and light. A polished floor of… marble. Glossy black marble. As they continued along, he had the sense that they were processing through some high-ceilinged place because what little sounds they made reverberated upward and echoed. There was another pause, followed by lots of shifting of fabric… the brothers disrobing, he thought.

A hand clamped on the back of his neck and the deep growl of Wrath's voice shot into his ear. 'You are unworthy to enter herein as you stand now. Nod your head.'

Butch nodded.

'Say that you are unworthy.'

'I am unworthy.'

The Brotherhood's voices suddenly let out a loud, hard shout in the Old Language, as if in protest.

Wrath continued: 'Though you are not worthy, you desire to become as such this night. Nod your head.'

He nodded.

'Say that you wish to become worthy.'

'I wish to become worthy.'

Another shout in the Old Language, this time a cheer of support.

Wrath went on: 'There is only one way to become worthy and it is the right and proper way. Flesh of our flesh. Nod your head.'

He nodded.

'Say that you wish to become flesh of our flesh.'

'I wish to become flesh of your flesh.'

A low chanting started up, and Butch had the impression that a line had formed in front of and behind him. Without warning, they started to move, the back and forth surging motion mirrored by the cadence of powerful male voices. Butch struggled to get into the rhythm, bumping forward into what he suspected was Phury by the subtle scent of red smoke, then getting bumped from behind by what he knew was Vishous just because he knew. Shit, he was making a mess of the whole thing—

And then it happened. His body found the groove and he was moving with them… yes, they were all as one with the chanting and the movement, back… forth… swaying left… then right… the voices, not the muscles of their thighs, carrying their feet forward.

Suddenly, there was an acoustic explosion, the sounds of the chanting fracturing and re-forming in a