Lover Awakened

the snapping of wet towels on bare butts. The trainees had ditched their sweaty jis and were showering before they took a food break and then hit the classroom part of the session.

It was all standard guy stuff, except John so did not want to get naked. Even though they were all his size, this was straight out of every high school nightmare he'd ridden out until he'd quit the system when he was sixteen. And right now he was just too flat-out exhausted to deal with the scene.

He figured it was about midnight by now, but he felt as though it were four A.M… like, the day after tomorrow. Training had been grueling for him. None of the other guys was strong, but all of them could keep up with the stances Phury and then Tohr introduced. Hell, a few were even naturals. John was a mess. His feet were slow, his hands were always in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he had no physical coordination. Man, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find his balance. His body was like a shifting, lurching bag of water; if he moved in one direction, the whole thing flopped over on him.

'You'd better hurry,' Blaylock said. 'We've only got eight more minutes.'

John eyed the shower's doorway. The jets were still on but there was no one in it as far as he could see. He stripped out of the ji and the jockstrap and walked quickly into the—

Shit. Lash was in the corner. Like he'd been waiting.

'Hey, big man,' the guy drawled. 'Really showed us a thing or two out—'

Lash stopped talking and just stared at John's chest.

'You little kiss-ass,' he snapped. And then stormed out of the shower.

John looked down at the circular mark over his left pectoral, the one he'd been born with… the one that Tohr had told him members of the Brotherhood received on their initiations.

Terrific. Now he could add that birthmark to the growing list of stuff he didn't want to hear about from his classmates.

When he came out of the shower with a towel around his waist, all the guys, even Blaylock, were standing together. While they looked him over as a solid, silent unit, he wondered whether vampires had pack instincts, like wolves or dogs.

As they continued to stare at him, he thought, Um, yeah. That would be a big affirmative.

John ducked his head and went to his locker, desperate for the day to be over.

Around three A.M., Phury walked quickly down Tenth Street to ZeroSum. Butch was waiting outside the club's glass-and-chrome entrance, lounging casually in spite of the cold. In his full-length cashmere coat and with his Red Sox hat pulled down low, he looked good. Anonymous, but good.

'What's doing?' Butch asked as they clapped palms.

'Night was for crap on the lesser side. No one found any. Hey, man, thanks for company, I need it.'

'No problem.' Butch tugged his Sox cap down even more. Like the Brothers, he kept a low profile. As a homicide detective, he'd helped send a number of drug-trade folks to jail, so it was better for him not to be too conspicuous.

Inside the club, the techno music was annoying. So were the flashing lights and all the humans. But Phury had his reasons for coming, and Butch was being polite. Sort of.

'This place is just too frickin' precious,' the cop said, eyeing a guy dressed in a hot pink leisure suit with makeup to match. 'Give me rednecks and home-grown beer any day of the week over this X-culture bullshit.'

When they got to the VIP section, the satin rope was lowered immediately so they could pass.

Phury nodded to the bouncer, then looked at Butch. 'I won't take long.'

'You know where to find me.'

As the cop went for their table, Phury walked to the back of the high-ticket area, stopping in front of the two Moors who guarded the Reverend's private door.

'I'll tell him you're here,' the one on the left said.

A split second later Phury was let in. The office was a cave, dimly lit with a low ceiling, and the vampire behind the desk dominated the space, especially as he got to his feet.

The Reverend was a jacked-up six foot six, and the tight mohawk he wore his hair in suited him as well as his fancy-ass Italian threads did. His face was pitiless and intelligent, placing him rightfully in the dangerous business he was in. His eyes, though… his eyes didn't fit. They were curiously beautiful, the color of amethysts, a deep purple that glowed.

'Back so soon?' the male said, his voice low, deep, harder than usual.

Get the product, then get a move on, Phury thought.

He took out his roll and peeled off three large. He fanned out the thousand-dollar bills on top of the chrome desk. 'Twice the usual. And I want it quartered.'

The Reverend smiled coolly and swiveled his head to the left. 'Rally, get the male what he needs. And pad those O-Zs.' A minion came out of the darkness and scooted through a pocket door in the far corner of the room.

When they were alone, the Reverend came around the desk slowly, moving like he had oil in his veins, all sinuous power. As he circled, he closed in enough to have Phury slip his hand into his coat and find one of his guns.

'Sure we can't interest you in something more hard-core?' the Reverend said. 'That red smoke is for low dosers.'

'If I wanted something else, I'd ask for it.'

The vampire stopped beside him. So very close.

Phury frowned. 'There a problem?'

'You have beautiful hair, you know that? It's like a female's. All those different colors.' The Reverend's voice was strangely hypnotic, his purple eyes purely cunning. 'Speaking of females, I hear you don't take advantage of what's offered by my ladies here. That true?'

'Why do you care?'

'Just want to make sure your needs are served. Customer satisfaction is so damned important.' The male moved even closer and nodded at Phury's arm, the one that disappeared into his coat. 'Your hand's on a gun butt right now, isn't it? Afraid of me?'

'Just want to make sure I can take care of you.'

'Oh, really?'

'Yeah. In case you need a little Glock-to-mouth resuscitation.'

The Reverend grinned, his fangs flashing. 'You know, I've heard this rumor… about a member of the Brotherhood who's celibate. Yeah, go figure, a warrior who abstains. And I've heard a few other things about this male. He's down to one leg. Has a scarred sociopath for a twin. You wouldn't by any chance know of such a Brother?'

Phury shook his head. 'Nope.'

'Huh. Funny, I've seen you hanging around with a guy who looks like he's wearing a Halloween mask. Actually, I've seen you with a couple of big males who kind of fit some descriptions I've heard. You don't suppose —'

'Do me a favor and get me my leaves. I'll be outside waiting.' Phury turned away. He was in a bad mood to begin with: frustrated that he hadn't found a fight, bleeding inside over being shut down by Bella. Now was not the time for conflict. He was on his last fucking nerve.

'Are you celibate because you like males?'

Phury glared over his shoulder. 'What is with you tonight? You're always shifty, but right now you're also being a real asshole.'

'You know, maybe you just need to get laid. I don't traffic in the males, but I'm sure we could find you one who'd be obliging.'

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Phury snapped. He surged across the office, took the Reverend by his Gucci lapels, and nailed him into the wall.

Phury leaned on the guy's chest. 'Why are you picking a fight with me?'

'You going to kiss me before the sex?' the Reverend murmured, still playing. 'I mean, it's the least you can