Unless she wanted him in an utter rage.
Indeed, as he was now, it would appear that that soldier had something to worry about if the two of them ever crossed pathways.
“I am so glad to see you,” she said roughly. “You were all I thought of when I was . . .”
He closed his eyes briefly, as if he were in pain. “They didn’t hurt you?”
“No.” And that was when she realized what he was worried about.
Placing her palm on his face, she said, “He didn’t touch me. None of them did.”
The shudder that went through the strong body that carried her was so great, he nearly tripped. But her male recovered fast . . . and kept going.
As Vishous watched the human take his sister up the grand staircase, he realized he was witnessing a future unfold right before his very eyes. The pair of them were going to work it out, and that surgeon with the highly questionable musical taste was going to be a part of her life . . . and V’s . . . forevermore.
Abruptly, his mind shifted back twelve months, the rewind button stopping when he got to the place in the narrative when he’d gone to the surgeon’s office to scrub the guy’s memories of V’s own time at St. Francis.
Brother.
He had heard the word brother in his head.
At the time, he hadn’t had a fucking clue what it meant—because, come on, like that would ever happen?
And yet here it was, reality once again living up to one of his visions.
Although, for true accuracy, that word should probably have been brother-in-law.
Except then he glanced over at Butch. His best friend was likewise staring upward at the guy.
Shit, he guessed brother might just fit. Which was good. Manello was the kind of guy you wouldn’t mind being related to.
As if the king read his mind, Wrath announced, “The surgeon can stay. Long as he wants. And he can have contact with any human family he has—if he wants. As a relation of mine, he is welcome in my home without restriction.”
There was a grumble of agreement at that: As always, when it came to the Brotherhood, secrets never stayed secrets for very long, so everyone already knew about the Manello/Butch/Wrath connection. Hell, they’d all looked at th
at photograph. Especially V.
Although V had done a little more than that. The name “Robert Bluff” had turned out to be a shell—duh. And the male had to be a half-breed; otherwise there was no way he could have worked at any hospital in the daylight hours. The question was whether and how much he knew about his vampire side—and if he was still alive.
As Jane put her head on his heart, he wrapped his arms around her even further. And then he looked over at Wrath. “Xcor, true.”
“Yup,” the king said. “Verified sighting. And this is not the last time we’re going to hear from him. It’s only the beginning.”
Too right, V thought. The arrival of that band of bastards was not good news for anyone—but most especially Wrath.
“Gentlemen,” the king called out, “and ladies, First Meal is getting cold.”
Which was the cue for everyone to head back to the dining room and actually eat what had been only studiously ignored up until now.
With Payne safe and at home, appetites were free to roam once more . . . although as God was his witness he was not going to think about what the hell that surgeon and his sister were no doubt about to get into.
As he groaned, Jane tightened her arm around his waist. “Are you all right?”
He glanced down at his shellan. “I don’t think my sister is old enough to have sex.”
“V, she’s the same age you are.”
He frowned for a moment. Was she? Or had he been born first?