God, she was tired, but then it had been a busy day. Very busy.
Although the good thing was at least everything she'd had to do had kept her from obsessing about Butch. Well, mostly kept her occupied. Okay, sometimes stopped her from thinking about him.
The fact that he'd been hurt by a lesser again was only part of her preoccupation. She wondered where he was and who was caring for him. Not her brother, obviously. But did Butch have someone else?
Had he spent the day with another female, being nursed by her?
Sure, Marissa had talked to him last night and he'd said all the right things: He'd reassured her he was okay. Hadn't lied about fighting with a lesser. Been up-front about not wanting to come see her until he felt more stable. And he'd told her he'd see her at First Meal tonight. She'd assumed if he'd been stilted, it was because he'd been rattled, and she didn't blame him.
It was only after they hung up that she realized everything she'd neglected to ask him.
Disgusted with her insecurities, she marched over to the laundry chute and shoved her towel down the mouth of it, As she straightened, she got so dizzy she weaved on her bare feet and had to sink down into a crouch. It was either that or pass out cold.
Please let this need to feed pass. Please.
She breathed deeply until her head cleared, then slowly stood up and headed for the sink. As she cupped her hands under cold water and splashed her face, she knew she was going to have to go to Rehvenge. Just not tonight. Tonight she needed to be with Butch. She needed to see him up close and reassure herself that he was okay. And she had to talk to him. He was the important thing, not her body.
When she felt steady enough, she got dressed in that teal YSL gown. God, she really hated wearing the thing now. It held such bad associations for her, as if the scene with her brother was a nasty smell that had permeated the dress's fabric.
The knock she'd been waiting for came at precisely six o'clock. Fritz was on the other side of the bedroom door, the old male smiling as he bowed.
"Good evening, mistress."
"Good evening. Do you have the papers?"
"As you asked."
She took the file he held out and went to a bureau, where she leafed through the documents and signed on several lines. As she closed the top of the folder, she laid her hand on it. "This is over so fast."
"We have good lawyers, don't we?"
She took a deep breath and handed the power of attorney and the rental papers back to him. Then she went to the bedside table and picked up the bracelet from the suite of diamonds she'd still had on when she'd arrived at the Brotherhood's compound. As she held the glittering length out to the doggen, she had a fleeting thought that her father had given her the set over a hundred years ago.
He would never have guessed how it would be used. Thank the Scribe Virgin.
The butler frowned. "Master does not approve."
"I know, but Wrath has been too kind to me already." The diamonds sparkled as they hung from her fingertips. "Fritz? Take the bracelet."
"Master really does not approve."
"He's not my ghardian. So it's not his call."
"He is king. Everything is his call." But Fritz took the piece of jewelry.
As he turned away, the doggen looked so stricken, she said, "Thank you for bringing me some of my undergarments and for dry-cleaning this gown. You are very thoughtful."
He brightened a little at a job well done. "Perhaps you should like me to retrieve a few of your dresses from your trunks?"
She looked down at the St. Laurent and shook her head. "I won't be here for long. Best to leave them packed."
"As you wish, mistress."
"Thank you, Fritz."
He paused. "You should know that I have put fresh roses in the library for your rendezvous this evening with our master Butch. He asked me to get some for your pleasure. He asked me to ensure they were as lovely and pale a gold as your hair."
She closed her eyes. "Thank you, Fritz."
Butch rinsed out his razor, tapped it on the edge of his sink, and shut off the water. According to the mirror, the shave hadn't helped much; in fact, it just showcased his bruises, which were now yellowing out. Crap. He wanted to look nice for Marissa, especially since last night had turned out to be such a mess.
As he stared at his reflection, he poked his front tooth, the one with the little chip out of it. Shit... if he wanted to look like he deserved her, he'd need plastic surgery, detox, and a full set of caps.
Whatever. He had other things to worry about if he was going to see her in ten minutes. She'd sounded like hell over the phone last night, and it looked like they were back to having distance between them. But at least she was willing to see his ass.
Which led to his big concern. He reached down and picked up a paring knife off the edge of the white sink. Extending his forearm, he -
"Cop, you're going to be full of holes if you keep this up."
Butch looked into the mirror. Behind him, V was leaning against the doorjamb, a glass of Goose and a cigarette in his hand. Turkish tobacco scented the air, pungent, masculine.
"Come on, V. I need to be sure. I know your hand works wonders, but..." He drew the blade over his skin, then closed his eyes, afraid of what was going to come out.
"It's red, Butch. You're okay."
He glanced at the wet crimson streak. "How do I know for sure, though?"
"You don't smell like a lesser anymore and you did last night." V came into the bathroom. "And secondly..."
Before Butch knew what was doing, V grabbed his forearm, bent down, and licked the cut, sealing it up quick.
Butch yanked out of his roommate's hold. "Jesus, V! What if that blood's contaminated!"
"It's fine. Just f - " With a boneless lurch, Vishous gasped and collapsed against the wall, eyes rolling back in his head, body twitching.
"Oh, God... I" Butch reached out in horror -
Only to have V cut the seizure off and calmly take a drink from his glass. "You're fine, cop. Tastes perfectly okay. Well, fine for human guy, which really ain't my 'tail of choice, you feel me?"
Butch hauled back and nailed his roommate in the arm with his fist. And as the brother cursed, Butch popped him another one.
V glared and rubbed himself. "Christ, cop."
"Suck it up, you deserve it."
Butch pushed by the brother and headed for his closet. As he tried to figure out what to wear, he was rough with his clothes, shoving them around on their hangers.
He stopped. Closed his eyes. "What the f**k, V. Last night I was bleeding black. Now I'm not. Is my body some kind of lesser-processing plant?"
V eased onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard, resting his glass on his leather-clad thigh. "Maybe. I don't know."
Man, he was so tired of feeling lost. "I thought you knew everything."
"Not fair, Butch."
"Shit... you're right. I apologize."
"Can we screw the 'sorry' part and let me hit you back instead?"
As they both laughed, Butch forced himself to pick a suit and ended up tossing a blue/black Zegna on the bed next to V. Then he fingered his ties. "I saw the Omega, didn't I. That thing in me was part of him. He put part of himself in me."
"Yeah. That's what I think."
Butch felt a sudden need to go to church and pray for his salvation. "No going back to normal for me, is there."
"Probably not."
Butch stared at his tie collection, getting swamped by the colors and the choices. As he stood frozen with indecision, for some reason he thought about his family in South Boston.
Talk about normal... and they were unchanging, too, so relentlessly the same. For the O'Neal clan, there had been one pivotal event, and that tragedy had thrown the chessboard of the family up in the air. When the pieces had fallen, they'd landed in glue: After Jane had been raped and murdered when she was fifteen, everyone had stayed in their places. And he was the unforgiven outsider.
To cut off his train of thought, Butch pulled a bloodred Ferragamo from the rack. "So what's on deck for you tonight, vampire?"
"I'm supposed to be off."
"Good."
"No, bad. You know I hate not fighting, true?"
"You're strung too tight."
"Hah."
Butch glanced over his shoulder. "Do I need to remind you about this afternoon?"
V's eyes dropped to his glass. "Nothing doing."