Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood 4)

"Off to the Saint Francis ER. He's probably going to live."

"And that rogue dealer?"

Xhex opened his door for him, like she was encouraging him to leave. "Still haven't found him."

Rehv cursed, reached for his cane, and headed over to her. "I am not happy about this sitch."

"No kidding," she muttered. "And here I thought you were down with it."

He pegged her with a hard stare. "Don't f**k around with me."

"I'm not, boss," she snapped back. "We're doing everything we can. Do you think I like calling nine-one-one for these fools?"

He took a deep breath and tried to chill his temper. Man, it had been a bad week at the club. Both of them were on short fuses, and the rest of the staff at ZeroSum were about to hang themselves in the bathroom from the tension.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm wound."

She ran a hand over her man's haircut. "Yeah... me, too."

"What's doing on your end?"

He didn't expect her to answer. But she did. "You hear about the human? O'Neal?"

"Yeah. One of us. Who'd've thought, huh." Rehv had yet to see the guy up close and personal, but Vishous had called with a heads-up on the miracle that had gone down.

Rehv honestly wished the cop well. He liked that big-mouthed man - er, male. But he was also very aware that his feeding days with Marissa had come to an end and so had any hope of mating her. The shit stung, it really did, even though linking up with her would have been a really bad idea.

"Is it true?" Xhex asked. "About him and Marissa?"

"Yeah, he's not a free agent."

The oddest expression filtered through Xhex's features... sadness? Yeah, looked like it.

He frowned. "I didn't know you were that into him."

Instantly, she was back to herself, eyes sharp, face showing nothing but hard-ass. "Just because I liked banging him doesn't mean I wanted him as a mate."

"Fine, sure. Whatever."

Her upper lip peeled off her fangs. "Do I look like the type who needs a male?"

"Nope, and thank God. The idea of you going soft violates the natural world order. Besides, you're the only one I can feed from, so I need you unattached." He passed by her. "I'll see you in two hours, tops."

"Rehvenge." When he glanced back, she said, "I need you to stay single, too."

Their stares locked. God, they were quite a pair, weren't they. Two liars living among Normals... two snakes in the grass.

"Don't worry," he murmured. "I'm never taking a shellan. Marissa was... a flavor I wanted to taste. Never would have worked out long term."

After Xhex nodded, as if they'd resealed their deal, Rehv left.

As he walked through the VIP section, he stuck to the shadows. He didn't like to be seen with his cane, and if he had to use it, he wanted people to think it was a vanity thing, so he tried not to rely on it too much. Which was a little dangerous considering his lack of balance.

He got to the side door, worked some mind magic with the alarm system, then popped the bar release. He stepped out, thinking he -

Holy Christ! There was a frickin' melee in the alley. Lessers. Brothers. Two civilians crouched and quivering in the middle. And big bad Butch O'Neal.

As the door clicked shut behind Rehv, he widened his stance and wondered why the hell the security cameras hadn't - oh, mhis. They were surrounded by mhis. Nice touch.

Standing on the sideline, he watched the fight, listening to the dull thuds of bodies hitting bodies, hearing the grunts and the shifting of metal, smelling the sweat and the blood of his race mixing with the baby powder sweetness of the slayers.

Damn, he wanted to play, too. And he couldn't see why he shouldn't.

When a lesser stumbled his way, he caught the bastard, slammed it up against the bricks, and smiled while looking into a pair of pale eyes. It had been so long since Rehv had killed something and the flip side of him missed the experience. Craved it. Man, the snuffing out of life was something the bad in him yearned for.

And he was going to feed his beast. Right here. Right now.

In spite of the dopamine in his system, Rehv's symphath abilities came at his beckoning, riding the crest of his aggression, suffusing his vision with the color red. Baring his fangs in a smile, he gave in to his sinister half with the ecstatic pleasure of an addict long deprived.

With invisible hands, he tunneled into the lesser's brain, rooted around, and triggered all kinds of fun memories. It was like popping lids off soda bottles, and what bubbled out debilitated his prey, scrambling the lesser so badly it was rendered defenseless. God, such ugliness inside the bastard's head - this particular slayer had had a real sadistic streak, and as every single one of his nasty deeds and dirty abuses clouded his mind's eye, he started to scream, clapping his hands to his ears and falling to the ground.

Rehv brought up his cane and whipped off its outer casing, revealing a lethal length of steel, the blade red as his two-dimensional sight, But when he got ready to stab, Butch grabbed his arm.

"This is where I come in."

Rehv glared at the guy. "Fuck that, this is my kill - "

"No, it isn't." Butch went down to his knees beside the lesser and...

Rehv clamped his mouth shut and stared with fascination as Butch leaned over and started to suck something out of the slayer. Except there wasn't time to enjoy the Twilight Zone episode. Another lesser came gunning for Butch, and Rehv had to leap back as Rhage took the thing down in a tackle.

Rehv heard more footsteps and faced off at yet another lesser. Good. This one he would handle, he thought with a hard grin.

Man, symphaths loved to fight, they really did. And he was no exception to his nature.

Mr. X pounded down the alley where the brawl was happening. Though he couldn't see or hear anything, he sensed the buffering around the scene, so he knew this was the right place.

Van cursed from behind him. "What the hell is this? I can feel the fight - "

"We're about to penetrate the mhis. Get ready."

The two kept running and hit what felt like a wall of cold water. As they burst through the barrier, the fight was revealed: Two Brothers. Six slayers. A couple of cowering civilians. A very large male in a full-length fur coat... and Butch O'Neal.

The former cop was just lifting himself up from the ground, looking sick as a dog and positively glowing with the master's footprint. As Mr. X met O'Neal's eyes, the Fore-lesser skidded to a halt, overcome by a sense of accord.

And irony of ironies, at that very instant when the connection was made, at that precise moment when there was an exchange of recognition, the Omega called from the other side.

Coincidence? Who cared. Mr. X pushed off the demand, ignoring the itching in his skin. "Van," he said softly, "it's time for you to show your stuff. Go get O'Neal."

"About f**king time." Van bolted for the newly born vampire, and the two of them squared off, circling each other in the manner of fighters. At least until Van stopped moving, becoming nothing more than a breathing statue.

Because Mr. X had willed it so.

Man, he had to smile as he caught the panicked expression on Van's face. Yeah, losing control of all your large-muscle groups certainly did freak a guy out, didn't it.

And O'Neal was surprised as well. He closed in with care, wary but obviously ready to take advantage of the freeze-frame Mr. X was imposing on his subordinate. The takedown happened fast. In a quick move, O'Neal put an armlock around Van's neck, flipped him over, and pinned him down to the ground.

Mr. X didn't give a shit about sacrificing an asset like Van. He needed to know what happened when - holy shit!

O'Neal... O'Neal had opened his mouth and was inhaling and... Van Dean was just sucked into nothingness, absorbed, swallowed, owned. Unto dust.

Relief flooded into Mr. X. Yes... yes, the prophecy was fulfilled. The prophecy had been realized in the skin of an Irishman who had been turned. Thank you, God.

Mr. X took a halting, desperate step forward. Now... now would be the peace he sought, his loophole realized, his freedom ensured. O'Neal was the one.

Except Mr. X was suddenly intercepted by a Brother who had a goatee and tattoos on his face. The big bastard came out of nowhere like a boulder, hitting X so hard his legs buckled. They started to fight, but X was terrified he'd be stabbed instead of consumed by O'Neal. So when another slayer jumped into the fray and grabbed the Brother, Mr. X disengaged and disappeared into the periphery.