Lover Awakened

Maybe the cold would slow the blood loss for both of them.

Oh… God.

Phury was aware of an icy wind blowing over his bare skin and across his bald head. He moaned and curled up into himself. God, he was cold. Was this what you had to go through to make it into the Fade? Then thank the Virgin it only happened once.

Something moved against him. Arms… there were arms coming around him, arms that took him in close to a kind of warmth. Shivering, he gave himself up to whoever it was who held him so gently.

What was that noise? Close to his ear… a sound other than the roaring wind.

Singing. Someone was singing to him.

Phury smiled a little. How perfect. The angels that were taking him unto the Fade truly did have beautiful voices.

He thought of Zsadist and compared the lovely melody he heard now with the ones he had listened to in real life.

Yes, Zsadist had had a voice like an angel, as it turned out. He truly had.

CHAPTER 47

When Zsadist came awake, his first instinct was to sit up. Bad fucking idea. His shoulder let out a holler and nailed him with a shot of pain so intense, he blacked out again.

Round two.

This time when he woke up at least he remembered what not to do. He turned his head slowly instead of trying to get vertical. Where the hell was he? The place seemed halfway between a guest bedroom and a hospital setup—Havers. He was at Havers's clinic.

And someone was sitting in the shadows across the unfamiliar room.

'Bella?' he croaked.

'Sorry.' Butch leaned forward, into the light. 'Just me.'

'Where is she?' Man, he was hoarse. 'Is she all right?'

'She's fine.'

'Where… where is she?'

'She's… ah, she's leaving town, Z. Actually I think she's already gone.'

Zsadist closed his eyes. Considered briefly the merits of passing out again.

He couldn't blame her for getting away, though. Christ, the situations she'd been put in. Not the least of which was killing that lesser. It was better that she get far away from Caldwell.

Although he ached all over from the loss.

He cleared his throat. 'Phury? Is he—'

'Right next door. Bunged up, but okay. The two of you have been out to lunch for a couple of days.'

'Tohr?'

'No one has any idea where he is. It's like he vanished.' The cop blew out his breath. 'John's supposed to be staying at the mansion, but we can't get him out of the training center. He's been sleeping in Tohr's office. Any other updates you want?' As Z shook his head, the cop got to his feet. 'I'll leave you alone now. I just assumed you'd feel better knowing where things stood.'

'Thanks… Butch.'

The cop's eyes flared at the sound of his name, making Z realize he'd never used it with the guy before.

'Sure,' the human said. 'No problem.'

As the door eased shut, Zsadist sat up. While his head spun he yanked the monitors off his chest and his forefinger. Alarms started to go off, and he silenced them by pushing over the stand of machinery that was next to the bed. The tangle of monitors unplugged itself on the way to the floor and shut up.

He yanked the catheter out with a grimace and looked at the IV going into his forearm. He was about to rip it from his vein, but then figured chilling on that move might be smart. God only knew what was pumping into him. Maybe he needed it.

He stood up and his body felt like a beanbag, all loose inside his skin. The IV pole made a good walker, though, so he hit the hallway. As he started for the room beside his, nurses came running from all directions. He shrugged them off and pushed open the first door he got to.

Phury was lying on the king-size bed, lines plugged into him as if he were a switchboard.

The male's head turned. 'Z… what are you doing up?'

'Giving the medical staff a workout.' He shut the door and weaved into the room, heading for the bed. 'They're pretty damn fast, actually.'

'You shouldn't be—'

'Shut up and move over.'

Phury looked startled as hell, but he pushed himself to the far side as Z heaved his exhausted body up onto the mattress. When he lay back against the pillows, the two of them let out identical sighs.

Z rubbed his eyes. 'You're ugly without all that hair, you know.'

'That mean you're going to grow some?'

'Nah. My beauty-queen days are over.'

Phury chuckled. Then there was a long silence.

In the quiet, Zsadist kept picturing what it had been like to go into that lesser's shed and see Phury strapped to that table, his hair gone, his face beat to shit. Having to witness his twin's pain had been… an agony.

Z cleared his throat. 'I shouldn't have used you like I did.'

The bed wiggled as if Phury had jerked his head around. 'What?'

'When I wanted to… hurt. I shouldn't have made you beat me.'

There was no reply, and Z turned for a look, watching as Phury covered his eyes with his hands.

'That was cruel of me,' Z said into the dim, tense air between them.

'I hated doing that to you.'

'I know, and I knew it when I made you hit me until I bled. That I fed off your misery was the crudest part. I'm never going to ask you to do that again.'

Phury's bare chest rose and fell. 'I'd rather it be me than anyone else. So when you need it, you let me know. I'll do it.'

'Christ, Phury—'

'What? It's the only way you'll let me take care of you. The only way you'll let me touch you.'

Now Z was the one covering stinging eyes with a forearm. He had to cough a couple of times before speaking. 'Look, no more saving me, my brother, okay? That's over now. Finished. It's time for you to let go.'

There was no reply. So Z glanced over again—just as a tear slid down Phury's cheek.

'Ah… fuck,' Z muttered.

'Yeah. Pretty much.' Another tear rolled out of Phury's eye. 'God… damn. I'm leaking.'

'Okay, brace yourself.'

Phury scrubbed his face with his palms. 'Why?'

'Because… I think I'm going to try to hug you.'

Phury's hands dropped and he looked over with an absurd expression.

Feeling like an utter ass, Z pushed himself over to his twin. 'Lift up your head, damn it.' Phury craned his neck. Z slid his arm underneath. The two of them froze in the unnatural positions. 'You know, this was a hell of a lot easier when you were out cold in the back of that truck.'

'That was you?'

'You think it was Santa Claus or some shit?'

Z's hackles were rising all over the place. God… He was really exposed here. What the hell was he doing?