Lover Revealed

the words not a mere expression of thought but a vow: Butch O'Neal was prepared to take himself out of the game if shit got critical. And he was fully capable of doing the job.

V inhaled on his hand-rolled again and tried not to get even more attached to the human. 'Hopefully it won't come to that.'

Please, God, let it not come to that.

Chapter Nineteen

Marissa paced another circle around the Brotherhood's library and ended up back at the windows that looked out over the terrace and the pool.

The day must have been a warm one, she thought. There were patches in the snow that had melted through, revealing black slate at the terrace or brown ground over the lawn—

Oh, who the hell cared about the goddamned landscape.

Butch had left after First Meal, saying he had a quick errand to run. Which was fine. Dandy. A-okay. But that had been two hours ago.

She wheeled around as someone came into the room. 'Butch—oh… it's… you.'

Vishous stood in the archway, a full-blooded warrior framed by the extravagant gold-leaf molding around him.

Dear Virgin in the Fade… his expression was utterly blank, the kind of thing you put on your face when you had bad news to deliver.

'Tell me he is alive,' she said. 'Save my life right here and now and tell me he is alive.'

'He is.'

Her knees buckled and she grabbed on to one of the wall-to-wall bookshelves. 'But he isn't coming, is he?'

'No.'

As they stared at each other, she noticed absently that he was wearing a fine white shirt with his black leathers: a Turn-bull and Asser button-down. She recognized the cut. It was what Butch wore.

Marissa wrapped an arm around her waist, overwhelmed by Vishous even though he was all the way across the room. He seemed like such a dangerous male—and not because of the tattoos on his temple or the black goatee or that fearsome body. The Brother was cold to the core, and someone that removed was capable of anything.

'Where is he?' she asked.

'He's okay.'

'Then why isn't he here?'

'It was just a quick fight.'

A… quick… fight. Her knees loosened again as memories of being at Butch's bedside crashed over her. She saw him lying on hospital sheets in that johnny, beaten up, almost dying. Contaminated by something evil.

'I want to see him.'

'He's not here.'

'Is he at my brother's?'

'No.'

'And you're not going to tell me where he is, are you?'

'He's going to call you in a little bit.'

'Was it with the lessers?' When all Vishous did was continue to stare at her, her heart kicked into overdrive. She couldn't bear for Butch to be involved in this war. Look what had already been done to him. 'Goddamn it, tell me if it was with the slayers, you smug bastard.'

Only silence. Which of course answered the question. And also suggested that Vishous didn't care whether or not she was pissed off at him.

Marissa gathered up her skirts and marched over to the warrior. Up close, she had to crane her neck to look at his face. God, those eyes, those diamond white eyes with the midnight blue lines around the irises. Cold. So very cold.

She did her best to hide her shiver, but he caught it. Tracked it in her shoulders.

'Scared of me, Marissa?' he said. 'Exactly what do you think I'd do to you?'

She ignored that. 'I don't want Butch fighting.'

One black eyebrow cocked. 'Not your call.'

'It's too dangerous for him.'

'After tonight, I'm not so sure about that.'

The Brother's hard smile made her take a step back, but anger saved her from a full-on retreat. 'You remember that hospital bed? You saw what they did to him last time. I thought you cared about him.'

'If it turns out he's an asset, and he's willing, he will be used.'

'I don't like the Brotherhood right now,' she blurted. 'Or you.'

She started to go past him, but his hand shot out, grabbing her arm and jerking her close, holding her, though not hurting her. His eyes went over her face, her neck, then swept down her body.

And that was when she saw the fire in him. The volcanic heat. The interior inferno that was caged by all that glacial self-control.

'Let go of me,' she whispered, heart beating hard.

'I'm not surprised.' His reply was quiet… quiet as a sharp knife laid on a table.

'About w-what?'

'You're a female of worth. So you shouldn't like me.' Those glittering eyes narrowed on her face. 'You know, you really are the great beauty of the species, aren't you.'

'No… no, I am not—'

'Yeah, you are.' Vishous's voice grew lower and lower, softer, until she wasn't sure whether she was hearing it or he was in her mind. 'Butch is a wise choice for you, female. He'll take good care of you, if you let him. Will you, Marissa? Will you let him… take care of you?'

As those diamond eyes hypnotized her, she felt his thumb move over her wrist, shifting back and forth. Her heart rate gradually slowed to the lazy rhythm.

'Answer my question, Marissa.'

She swayed. 'What… what did you ask?'

'Will you let him take you?' Vishous leaned down and put his mouth at her ear. 'Will you take him inside of you?'

'Yes…' she breathed, aware they were talking about sex, but too seduced in the moment not to reply. 'I will have him within me.'

That hard hand loosened, then stroked her arm, traveling over her skin warmly, strongly. He looked down at where he was touching her, an expression of deep concentration on his face, 'Good. That's good. The two of you are beautiful together. A fucking inspiration.'

The male turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Disoriented, shocked, she stumbled over to the library's doorway and saw Vishous going up the stairs, his heavy thighs eating the distance with no effort.

Without warning, he stopped and snapped his head her way. Her hand fluttered to her throat.

Vishous's smile was as dark as his eyes were pale. 'Come on, Marissa. Did you really think I was going to kiss you?'

She gasped. That was exactly what had been going through her—

Vishous shook his head. 'You're Butch's female and whether you end up with him or not, you always will be to me.' He started up again. 'Besides, you're not my type. Your skin's too soft.'

V walked into Wrath's study and shut the double doors, thinking that little chat with Marissa had been