Lover Unleashed

FORTY-FIVE

Vishous got home in the blink of an eye, and after he checked in with Jane in the clinic, he headed for the big house through the underground tunnel. As he came out in the foyer, all he heard was a resounding nothing-much-at-all and he was uncomfortable with the silence.

So frickin’ quiet.

Of course, typically, this would be because it was two a.m. and the Brothers would be out in the field. Tonight, though, everyone was hunkered down, probably having sex, recovering from sex, or in the midst of doing it again.

I feel like I’ve made love to you for the very first time.

As Jane’s voice came back at him, he didn’t know whether to smile or kick his own ass. But whatever, it was a brave new world for him, starting tonight—not that he was entirely sure what that meant, but he was on it. He was so on it.

Hitting the grand staircase, he beelined for Wrath’s study, while patting every pocket he didn’t have. He was still in the damn johnny. With the bloodstains. And no damn cigs.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Sire? Do you require aught?”

As he stopped at the head of the stairs, he looked over at Fritz, who was cleaning the banister, and nearly kissed the butler on the piehole. “I’m out of my tobacco. Rolling papers—”

The old doggen smiled so widely, the wrinkles in his face made him look like a Shar-Pei. “I have more of it all down in the pantry. I shall be right back—are you going in to meet with the king?”

“Yeah.”

“I shall bring them to you there—as well as a robe, perhaps?”

The second half was said delicately.

“Shit, thank you, Fritz. You’re a lifesaver.”

“No, you are, sire.” He bowed. “You and the Brotherhood save us all each night.”

Fritz scurried along his way, going down the staircase with more spring in his step than you’d expect. Then again, he loved nothing more than to be of service. Which was very cool.

Right. Time to go to work.

Feeling like a total reject in the johnny, V marched over to the closed doors of Wrath’s study, curled up a fist and knocked.

The king’s voice came through the heavy wood panels: “Come in.”

V pushed inside. “It’s me.”

“S’up, brother.”

At the far end of the pansy-ass colored room, Wrath was behind his massive desk, sitting on his father’s throne. Down on the floor beside him, lying on a personalized Orvis dog bed in royal red, George lifted his blond head and pricked his perfect triangle ears. The golden retriever thumped his tail in greeting, but did not leave his master’s side.

The king and his Seeing Eye dog were never apart. And not just because Wrath needed the help.

“So, V.” Wrath eased back in the carved chair, his hand falling down to stroke his dog’s head. “Your scent is interesting.”

“Is it.” V took the seat across from the king, putting his palms on his thighs and squeezing in an attempt to distract himself from his nicotine craving.

“You left the door open.”

“Fritz is bringing me some smokes.”

“You’re not lighting up around my dog.”

Fuck. “Ah . . .” He’d forgotten the new rule . . . and asking George to take a breather was a no-go—after all, Wrath may have lost his sight, but the fucker was still deadly, and V had gotten enough of the S and M tonight, thank you very much.

Fritz came in just as the king’s black brows dropped behind his wraparounds.

“Sire, your tobacco,” the butler said happily.

“Thanks, my man.” V accepted the rolling papers and the pouch . . . and the lighter that the doggen had thoughtfully provided. As well as the robe.

The door shut.

V looked over at the dog. George’s big boxy head was down on his paws, his kind brown eyes seeming to apologize for the shutdown on the whole light-up routine. He even gave a tentative tip-of-the-tail wag.

Vishous stroked the bag of Turkish delicious like a pathetic loser. “Mind if I just rolled up a couple?”

“One flick of the flint and I’ll pound you into the carpet.”

“Roger that.” V lined things up on the desk. “I’ve come to talk about Payne.”

“How is your sis?”

“She’s . . . amazing.” He cracked open his pouch, took an inhale and had to suck back his mmmm. “It worked—I’m not sure how, but she’s up and around, true. On her feet, good as new.”

The king eased forward. “No . . . shit? For real?”

“One hundred.”

“It’s a miracle.”

Named Manuel Manello, evidently. “You could say that.”

“Well, this is great fucking news. You want to get her a room in here? Fritz can—”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.”

As those brows disappeared under the wraparounds again, V thought, man, even though the king was fully blind, he still appeared to focus like he always did. Which kind of made you feel like you had a gunsight trained on your frontal lobe.

V started laying out little white squares. “It’s that human surgeon.”

“Oh . . . for shit’s sake.” Wrath popped his sunglasses onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes. “Do not crank my crap out and tell me they’ve hooked up.”

V remained silent, grabbing the pouch and busying himself with the pinching stage of things.

“I’m waiting for you to tell me I got it wrong.” Wrath let his glasses fall back into place. “Still waiting.”

“She’s in love with him.”

“And you’re okay with this?”

“Of course not. But she could date a Brother and the motherfucker wouldn’t be good enough for her.” He picked up one of the loaded papers and began rolling. “So . . . if she wants him, I say live and let live.”

“V . . . I know what angle you’re going to take and I can’t allow it.”

Vishous stopped in mid-lick and considered bringing Beth into the happy convo. But the king already looked like he was getting a headache. “The hell you can’t allow it. Rhage and Mary—”

“Rhage got beaten, remember? For a reason. Besides, times are changing, V. The war is heating up, the Lessening Society is recruiting like a motherfucker—and on top of that, there’s the sliced-not-diced, halvsie shit you found downtown last night.”

Goddamn it, V thought. Those slaughtered slayers . . .

“Plus I just got this.” Without looking, Wrath patted to the left and held up a page of Braille. “It’s a copy of a letter that was e-mailed to what’s left of the Founding Families. Xcor has relocated with his boys—which was why you found those lessers in the condition you did.”

“Fucking . . . hell. I knew it was him.”

“He’s setting us up.”

V stiffened. “For what?”

Wrath sent a get real over the desk. “People have lost entire branches of their families. They’ve fled their homes, but they want to come back here. Meanwhile, things are getting more dangerous, instead of safer in Caldwell. Nothing should be taken for granted right now.”