Lover Avenged (Black Dagger Brotherhood #7)

Lover Avenged (Black Dagger Brotherhood #7) Page 25

Chapter FORTY-NINE

As the unmarked police car left Pine Grove Cemetery, Lash became utterly focused on the symphath presence that had just revealed itself inside the gates.

"Get the fuck out of here," he told his men.

As he dematerialized, he went back toward the dead girl's grave in the rear corner of the-

The scream was out-of-control operatic, a soprano losing the grip on her voice, the pitch flying high above singing and into screeching. When Lash resumed his form, he was bitched that he'd just missed the fun and games...because it would have been worth seeing.

Grady was lying flat on his back with his pants wrenched down, bleeding from various places, most especially a fresh cut right across his esophagus. He was alive like a fly on the sill of a hot window, kinked arms and legs pinwheeling slowly.

Straightening up from a crouch was his killer: that butch bitch from ZeroSum. And unlike the dying fly, who was clueless to all but his own demise, she knew exactly when Lash came on the scene. She whipped around in a fighting stance, her face focused, the dripping knife in her hand steady, her thighs tight and ready to spring her hard body forward.

She was hot as fuck. Especially as she frowned in recognition.

"I thought you were dead," she said. "And I thought you were a vampire."

He smiled. "Surprise. And you've been keeping a secret of your own, haven't you."

"No, I never liked you, and that hasn't changed."

Lash shook his head and blatantly eyed her body. "You look really good in leather, you know that."

"You'd look better in a body cast."

He laughed. "Cheap shot."

"So's my target. Do the math."

Lash smiled and, with some vivid images, fanned his attraction into a full-blown hard-on because he knew she would sense it: He pictured her down on her knees in front of him, his cock in her mouth, his hands clamped on her head as he fucked her mouth until she gagged.

Xhex rolled her eyes. "Cheap. Porn."

"Nope. Future. Sex."

"Sorry, I'm not into Justin Timberlake. Or Ron Jeremy."

"We'll see about that." Lash nodded down at the human, whose writhing had slowed as if he were congealing in the cold. "So I'm afraid you owe me something."

"If it's a stab wound, I'm totally there."

"That"-he pointed to Grady-"was mine."

"You should upgrade your standards. That"-she echoed his stance-"is dog shit."

"Shit's good fertilizer."

"Then lemme lay you out under a rosebush and we'll see how you do."

Grady let out a moan and they both glanced at him. The bastard was in the final stages of death, his face the color of the frosted ground around his head, the blood flow from his wounds slowing.

Abruptly, Lash realized what had been shoved in his mouth and looked at Xhex. "Man...I could seriously go for a female like you, sin-eater."

Xhex drew her blade across the sharp edge of the headstone, Grady's blood getting transferred from the metal to the stone as if she were marking a payback. "You got balls, lesser, considering what I did to him. Or don't you want to keep your set?"

"I'm different."

"Smaller than him? Christ, how disappointing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm out of here." She lifted up her knife and waved, then disappeared.

Lash stared into the air where she had been, until Grady gurgled weakly like a drain on its last grab against a puddle of bathwater.

"Did you see her?" Lash said to the idiot. "What a female. I'm so getting some of that."

Grady's last breath came out the hole in his throat, because it had no other exit, given that his mouth was busy giving himself a blow job.

Lash put his hands on his hips and looked at the cooling body.

Xhex...he was going to have to make sure they crossed paths again. And he hoped she tried to tell the Brothers she'd seen him: An unsettled enemy was better than a collected one. He knew the Brotherhood would all wonder how in the hell the Omega had been able to turn a vampire into a lesser, but that was only a small part of the story.

He'd still get to serve up the punch line.

As Lash sauntered away into the cold night, he rearranged himself in his pants and decided he needed to go get laid. God knew he was in the mood.

While iAm was locking up Sal's front door, Rehvenge sheathed his red sword and looked at Vishous. The Brother was staring at him in a bad way.

"So what was in there?" Rehv said.

"You."

"Montrag try to say I was responsible for the plot to kill Wrath?" Not that it mattered if the guy had. Rehv had already proven which side he was on by having the motherfucker sliced.

Vishous shook his head slowly, then glanced over as iAm joined his brother.

Rehv spoke up sharply. "There is nothing they do not know about me."

"Well, then, here you go, sin-eater." V tossed the envelope onto the table. "Apparently, Montrag knew what you were. Which is undoubtedly why he went to you to try to kill Wrath. No one would believe it wasn't your idea and your idea alone, if what you are is revealed."

Rehv frowned and took out what looked to be an affidavit about how his stepfather had been killed. What. The. Fuck. Montrag's father had been in the house after the murder; that much Rehv knew. But the guy had gotten his mother's hellren not only to talk, but to testify? And then promptly done nothing with the intel?

Rehv thought back to a couple of days ago, to that meeting in Montrag's study...and the guy's happy little comment that he knew what kind of male Rehv was.

He'd known, all right, and not about the drug dealing.

Rehv put the document back into the envelope. Shit, this got out and the promise he'd made to his mother was going to get blown to pieces.

"So what exactly's in there?" one of the Brothers asked.

Rehv tucked the envelope inside his sable. "Affidavit signed by my stepfather right before he died calling me out as a symphath. It's an original, going by the blood-inked siggy at the bottom. But how much you want to bet Montrag didn't send his only copy."

"Maybe it's faked," Wrath murmured.

Unlikely, Rehv thought. Too many details were correct about what had happened that night.

In a flash, he was back in the past, back to the night he had done the deed. His mother had had to be taken to Havers's clinic because she'd had one of her many "accidents." When it became clear she was going to be held for observation for a day, Bella had stayed with her, and Rehv had made up his mind.

He'd gone home, assembled the doggen in the staff quarters, and faced the collective pain of all who served his family. He could remember so clearly staring at the males and females of the house, meeting their eyes one by one. Many had come into the home because of his stepfather, but they stayed because of his mother. And they were looking to him to stop what had been going on for way too long.

He'd told them all to leave the mansion for an hour.

There had been no dissent, and each one had hugged him on the way out. They had all known what he was going to do, and it was their will, too.

Rehv had waited until the last doggen had left, and then he had gone into his stepfather's study and found the male poring over documents at his desk. In his fury, Rehv had taken care of the male the old-fashioned way, measuring blow for blow, exacting the pain inflicted upon his mother first before ushering the son of a bitch to his royal, undeserved reward.

When the front doorbell had rung, Rehv had assumed it was the staff coming back and giving him notice so that they could credibly state that they hadn't seen the killer at work. Needing one last fuck-you, he'd fist-cracked his stepfather's skull hard enough to knock the bastard shellan-beater's spine out of alignment.

Moving quickly, Rehv had stepped free of the body, willed the front door to the mansion open, and left out of the French doors in the back. Having the doggen come home to "find" the body was perfect, as the subspecies was by nature docile and would never be implicated in the violence. Besides, by that time, his symphath side was roaring, and he'd needed to get himself under control.

Which, back in those days, hadn't included dopamine. He'd had to use pain to tame the sin-eater in him.

Everything had seemed like it had fallen into place...until he'd learned at the clinic that Montrag's father had found the body. Turned out to be no big deal, though. As far as the male had said at the time, Rehm had walked in, come upon the scene, and called Havers. By the time the doctor had arrived, the staff had returned, and blamed their group absence on the fact that it was the summer solstice and they had been out preparing for the ceremonies that would be held that week.

Montrag's dad had played this well, and so had the son. Any emotional disturbances Rehv had picked up either back then or during that meeting mere days ago he'd chalked up to fresh death and assassination, both of which had been in the cards.

God, it was clear, so clear, what Montrag had been doing in having Rehv arrange to kill Wrath. After the deed was done, he'd been ready to come out with the affidavit exposing Rehv as both a murderer and a symphath so that when Rehv was deported, he could assume control of not just the council but the whole race.

Nice.

Too bad it didn't work out as he'd planned. Brought a tear to the fucking eye, didn't it.

"Yeah, there's gotta be more affidavits," Rehv murmured. "No one sends their only live copy out into the world."

"Would be worth a visit to that house," Wrath said. "Montrag's heirs and assigns get hold of something like this, we've all got problems, feel me?"

"He died without issue, but yeah, there's some of his bloodline around somewhere. And I'm going to make sure that they don't find out about this."

No way in hell anyone was making him break the vow he'd made to his mother.

Not gonna happen.

Chapter FIFTY

As Ehlena did her shopping at the twenty-four-hour Hannaford supermarket she always went to, she should have been in a better mood. Things couldn't have been left on a sweeter note with Rehv. When he'd had to go to his meeting, he'd taken a quick shower and let her pick out his clothes and even do up his tie. Then he'd wrapped his arms around her and they'd just stood together, heart-to-heart.

Eventually, she'd walked him outside into the hall and waited with him for the elevator to come. Its arrival had been announced on a chime and a slide of the double doors, and he'd held the things open to kiss her once, twice. A third time. Finally, he'd stepped back and as the twin doors shut, he'd held up his phone, pointed to it, and pointed to her.

The fact that he would be calling her made the good-bye much easier. And she loved the idea that the black suit and crisp white shirt and bloodred tie he had on were what she had chosen for him.

So, yeah, she should be happier. Especially because her financial squeeze had been eased a little with the loan from the First Rehvenge Bank amp; Trust Company.

But Ehlena was jumpy as hell.

She stopped in the juice aisle, in front of the neat rows of Ocean Spray Cran-everything-and-his-uncles, and looked over her shoulder. Just more juice on the left and arrangements of granola bars and cookies on the right. Farther down, there were the checkouts, most of which were closed, and beyond that, the dark glass windows of the store.

Someone was following her.

Ever since she'd gone back into Rehv's penthouse, gotten dressed herself, and dematerialized off the terrace after locking up.

Four CranRas bottles went into her cart, and then she headed for the cereal aisle and across to the paper towels and the toilet paper. In the meat department, she picked up a ready-made roasted chicken that looked like it had been taxidermied rather than cooked, but at this point, she just needed some protein she didn't have to oven-up herself. Then it was steak for her father. Milk. Butter. Eggs.

The only disadvantage to checking out after midnight was that all the U-Scans were closed, so she had to wait behind a guy with cart full of Hungry-Man frozen dinners. As the attendant swept the Salisbury steaks across the scanner, Ehlena stared out the glass storefront wondering whether she was losing her mind.

"You know how to cook these?" the guy asked her as he held up one of the thin boxes.

Evidently, he'd misread her forward fixation as having anything to do with him and was looking for someone to heat his meat, literally: The human's eyes were hot, and roaming over her, and all she could think of was what Rehvenge would do to the guy.

This made her smile. "Read the box."

"You could read it for me."

She kept her voice level and bored-sounding. "Sorry, I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate that."

The human seemed a bit crestfallen as he shrugged and handed his frozen dinner over to the girl behind the cash register.

Ten minutes later, Ehlena rolled her cart out of the electric doors and was greeted by a nasty, slapping cold that made her huddle up in her parka. Fortunately, the cab she'd taken to the store was right where it was supposed to be, and she was relieved.

"You need help?" the cabbie asked through the window he put down.

"No, thanks." She looked around as she put her plastic bags in the backseat, wondering what in the hell the driver would do if a lesser jumped out from behind a truck and played Bad Santa on their asses.

When Ehlena got in next to the groceries and the driver hit the gas, she searched the eaves of the store and the half dozen cars that were parked as close to the entrance as you could get. Mr. Hungry-Man was farting around in his van, his interior light shining down on his face as he lit a cigarette.

Nothing. Nobody.

She forced herself to settle against the seat and decided she was nuts. No one was watching her. No one was after her-

Ehlena's hand went to her throat, a sudden dread overtaking her. Oh, God...what if she had what her father suffered from? What if this paranoia was the first of many episodes? What if...

"You okay back there?" the driver asked as he stared into the rearview mirror. "You seem shaky."

"Just cold."

"Here, lemme hit you with some hot air."

As a warm blast blew on her face, she glanced out the back window. No car in sight. And lessers couldn't dematerialize, so...she was schizophrenic?

Christ, she'd almost rather it be a slayer.

Ehlena had the driver drop her as close to the back of the rented house as possible and gave him a little extra in the tip for being so nice.

"I'll wait until you get inside," the guy said.

"Thanks." And man, she meant that.

With two plastic bags hanging from each hand, she walked quickly to the door and had to put her load down, because like an idiot she'd been so busy wigging out that she hadn't gotten her keys ready. Just as she put her hand into her purse to do the rummage-and-curse routine, the taxi took off.

She looked up as its taillights turned the corner. What the-

"Hello."

Ehlena froze. The presence was right behind her. And she knew exactly who it was.

As she pivoted around, she saw a tall female with black hair and a lot of robes and glowing eyes. Ah, yes...this was Rehvenge's other-

"Half," the female finished. "I am his other half. And I am sorry your taxi driver had to leave so quickly."

On instinct, Ehlena covered her thoughts with the image of a display from Hannaford's: a five-foot-high, three-foot-wide display of red Pringles cans.

The female frowned as if she had no clue what she was finding in the cerebral cortex she was trying to invade, but then she smiled. "You have nothing to fear from me. I just thought I would share some things with you about that male you fucked back in his penthouse."

Screw the snack-food thought facade; that didn't go far enough. To keep calm, Ehlena needed all her professional training. This situation was a trauma case, she told herself. A bloody vampire body that had just been wheeled in before her, and she had to put aside all fear and all emotion to deal with the situation.

"Did you hear what I said?" the female drawled, her speech pattern nothing that Ehlena had ever heard before, the Ss extended into hisses. "I watched you through the glass, right until he pulled out at the end. Do you want to know why he did that?"

Ehlena kept her mouth shut and started wondering how she could get at the pepper spray in her pocketbook. Somehow, though, she didn't think that would have any effect-

Holy shit, were those...live scorpions in those earlobes?

"He's not like you." The female smiled with an evil satisfaction. "And not just because he's a drug lord. He's also not a vampire." When Ehlena's brows twitched, the female laughed. "You didn't know either of those?"

Evidently her Pringles and her training weren't completely doing the job. "I don't believe you."

"ZeroSum. Downtown. He owns it. You know the place? Probably not, as you don't seem like the type who would go there-which is no doubt why he likes to fuck you. Let me tell you what he sells. Human women. Drugs of all kinds. And you know why? Because he's like me, not you." The female leaned in close, her eyes flashing brightly. "And do you know what I am?"

A flaming bitch, Ehlena thought.

"I'm a symphath, little girl. That's what he and I are. And he's mine."

Ehlena started to wonder if she was going to die tonight, here on the back stoop with four bags of groceries at her feet. Although it wouldn't be because this lying female was actually a symphath-it would be because anyone who was crazy enough to suggest such a thing was absolutely capable of murder.

The female continued, her voice strident. "You want to really know him? Go to that club and find him there. Make him tell you the truth and know what you let into your body, little one. And remember this, he is all mine, sexually, emotionally, everything he is, is mine."

A three-knuckled finger brushed down Ehlena's cheek, and then just like that the female was gone.

Ehlena shook so badly she momentarily turned into a solid, the trembling so deep in her muscles she was rendered motionless. The cold was what saved her. As an icy blast shot down the sidewalk, it pushed her forward, and she caught herself before she teetered over onto her groceries.

The key to the house, when she finally found it, went into the lock no better than the one she'd tried to use on the ambulance. Skipping...skipping...skipping...

Finally.

She cranked the lock free, and all but threw the bags inside before slamming herself in and locking everything tight, including the interior dead bolts and the security chain.

On weak legs, she went and sat down at the kitchen table. When her father called up about the noise, she said it was the wind and prayed he wouldn't come up to see her.

In the ensuing quiet, Ehlena didn't feel any presence outside of the house, but the idea someone like that knew about her and Rehv and where she lived-Oh, God, that crazy female had watched them.

Bolting up, she rushed to the kitchen sink and ran the tap to cover the noise in case she got sick. Hoping to settle her stomach, she put her palms together, captured some cool water, and had a few swallows before washing her face.

The drink and rinse cleared her head a little.

The claims the female had made were totally and bizarrely outlandish, way far outside the realm of reality-and going by her glowing eyes, she clearly had an ax to grind.

Rehv wasn't any of those things. Drug lord. Symphath. Pimp. Come on.

Sure as hell you didn't take anything so much as what a male's favorite color was from some stalker ex-girlfriend type. Especially given that Rehv had made it clear the two weren't together, and intimated from the get-go that the chick was trouble. And no wonder he hadn't wanted to go into it. No one wanted to admit to somebody they were getting involved with that they had lurking in their past a bunny-boiling, I'm-not-going-to-be-ignored-Dan sort of psychotic.

So what did she do now? Well, that was obvious. She was going to tell Rehv. Not in a freaked-out, keep-the-drama-rolling kind of way, but more like, Here is what happened and you need to be aware that this person is seriously unstable.

Ehlena felt good with the plan.

Until she tried to get her phone out of her purse and realized she was still shaking. Her mind's response might be logical, her rationalizations might be fine and dandy, but her adrenaline was cooking along like crazy, and not really interested in all the sense she was talking into herself.

What was she doing? Oh...right. Rehvenge. Call Rehvenge.

As she hit his number, she started relaxing a little. They were going to work this out.

She was momentarily surprised when she got voice mail, but then remembered he'd had that meeting to go to. She almost hung up, but she wasn't the kind who beat around the bush, and there was no reason to wait.

"Hey, Rehv, I just got a visit from this...female. She was talking a lot of craziness about you. I just...well, I thought you should know. To be honest, she's freaky. Anyway, maybe you can call me and talk to me about this? I'd really appreciate it. Bye."

She hung up and stared at the phone, praying he got back to her fast.

Wrath had made a promise to Beth and he kept it. Even though it killed him.

When he and the Brothers finally left Sal's, he went straight home, along with his two thousand pounds of personal guard. He was twitchy and fist-hungry, teed up and pissed off, but he'd told his shellan he was not going to go out in the field after his little blind episode, and he wasn't.

Trust was something you had to build, and considering the hole he'd jackhammered into the foundation of their relationship, it was going to take him a lot of work just to get back to ground level.

Besides, if he couldn't fight, there was something else he could do to take the edge off.

As the Brotherhood walked into the foyer, the sound of boots echoed, and Beth shot out of the billiards room as if that were what she'd been waiting for. With a leap, she was in his arms before he could blink, and it was good.

After a quick hug, she stepped back and held him at arm's length, looking him over. "You're okay? What happened? Who showed? How-"

The Brothers all started talking at once, although not about the meeting that hadn't happened. The bunch of them were bidding over territory to hunt during the three hours they had left to be out and about.

"Let's go to the study," Wrath said over the din. "I can't hear myself think."

As he and Beth hit the stairs, he called out to his brothers, "Thanks for having my back once again."

The group stopped and turned to face him. After a beat of silence, they formed a half circle around the foot of the grand staircase, each making a thick fist with his weapon hand. With a great whoomp! of a war cry, they went down on their right knee and slammed their heavy knuckles into the mosaic floor. The sound was thunder and bass drums and bomb explosions, ricocheting outward, filling all the rooms of the mansion.

Wrath stared at them, seeing their heads bent, their broad backs curled, their powerful arms planted. They had each gone to that meeting prepared to take a bullet for him, and that would ever be true.

Behind Tohr's smaller form, Lassiter, the fallen angel, stood with a straight spine, but he wasn't cracking any jokes at this reaffirmation of allegiance. Instead, he was back to staring at the damn ceiling. Wrath glanced up at the mural of warriors silhouetted against a blue sky and could see nothing much of the pictures that he'd been told were there.

Getting back with the program, he said in the Old Language, "No stronger allies, no greater friends, no better fighters of honor could a king behold than these assembled afore me, mine brothers, mine blood."

A rolling growl of ascent lifted as the warriors got to their feet again, and Wrath nodded to each one of them. He had no more words to offer as his throat had abruptly choked, but they didn't seem to need anything else. They stared at him with respect and gratitude and purpose, and he accepted their enormous gifts with grave appreciation and resolve. This was the ages-old covenant between king and subjects, the pledges on both sides made with the heart and carried out by the sharp mind and the strong body.

"God, I love you guys," Beth said.

There was a lot of deep laughter, and then Hollywood said, "You want us to stab the floor for you again? Fists are for kings, but the queen gets the daggers."

"I wouldn't want you to take chips out of this beautiful floor. Thank you, though."

"Say the word and it's nothing but rubble."

Beth laughed. "Be still, my heart."

The Brothers came over and kissed the Saturnine Ruby that rode on her finger, and as each paid his honor, she gave him a gentle stroke of the hair. Except for Zsadist, who she smiled tenderly at.

"Excuse us, boys," Wrath said. "Little quiet time, feel me?"

There was a ripple of male approval, which Beth took in stride-and with a blush-and then it was time for some privacy.

As Wrath headed upstairs with his shellan, he was feeling like things were getting back to normal. Okay, yeah, there were assassination plots and political drama and lessers everywhere, but that was business as usual. And right now he had his brothers shoulder-to-shoulder and his beloved mate under his arm and the people and doggen he gave a shit about as safe as he could make them.

Beth laid her head on his pec and her hand on his waist. "I'm really glad everyone's okay."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing."

He ushered her into the study and shut both doors, the warmth of the fire a balm...and an enticement. As she walked over to the paper-strewn desk, he tracked the sway of her hips.

With a flick of the wrist, he locked them in together.

While he came over to her, Beth reached out to try to make some order of the documents. "So what hap-"

Wrath pressed his hips into her ass and whispered, "I need to be in you."

His shellan gasped and let her head fall back onto his shoulder. "Oh, God...yes..."

Growling, he slipped a hand around to her breast, and as her breath caught, he rolled his cock against her. "I don't want to take my time with this."

"Me neither."

"Lean on the desk."

Watching her tilt and arch her back nearly made him curse. And then she spread her feet apart and a fuuuuck slipped out.

Which was exactly what he was going to do.

Wrath canned the lamp on the desk so there was only the dancing golden light of the fire to illuminate them, and his hands were rough as he ran them over her hips in anticipation. Crouching behind her, he dragged his fangs down her spine and made her shift her weight onto one foot so he could pop off her stillie and shuck her Sevens free. He was too impatient to do the other side, though-especially as he looked up and saw her deliciously unfussy black panties.

Right. Change in plan.

The penetration was going to wait.

At least the one with his cock.

Staying on his haunches, he removed his weapons with both care and speed, making sure the safeties were in place on his guns and his blades were clipped into their holster. If the door wasn't locked, they would have been put in the combination gun closet, no matter how hard up he was for his female. With Nalla around, no one in the house was running the risk of Z and Bella's daughter picking up any kind of weapon. Ever.

Disarmed, he took off his wraparounds and tossed them onto the desk, then slid his hands up the backs of his mate's smooth thighs. Splitting her wide, he arched up and put himself between her legs, lifting his mouth to the cotton that covered the core he was going to be coming into very soon.

He pressed his mouth to her, feeling the heat through what she wore, her scent driving him wild, his cock kicking so hard in his leathers, he wasn't sure whether or not he'd just orgasmed. Nuzzling and then licking at her through the panties wasn't enough...so he took the cotton between his teeth and rubbed at her sex with it, knowing damn well that lateral seam was massaging right at the spot he was dying to suck her off at.

There was a thump-thump as her palms repositioned on the desk and a rustle as papers flitted down to the floor.

"Wrath..."

"What," he murmured against her, working her with his nose. "You don't like?"

"Shut up and get back to doing-"

His tongue slipping under the panties cut her off...and made him have to slow himself down. She was so slick and wet and soft and willing, it was all he could do to keep himself from hauling her on the rug and going at her deep and hard.

And then they'd both miss out on the fun of anticipation.

Moving the cotton aside with his hand, he kissed her pink flesh, then delved in. She was oh, so ready for him, and he knew it because of the honey that he swallowed as he dragged upward in a long, slow lick.

But it wasn't enough, and holding the panties to the side was distracting.

With his fang, he punctured them, then split them apart right up the middle, leaving the two halves to hang off her hips. His palms went up to her ass and squeezed hard as he quit fooling around and got busy working out his female with his mouth. He knew exactly what she liked best, the sucking and the licking and the going in with his tongue.

Closing his eyes, he took it all in, the scent and the taste and the feel of her shuddering against him as she peaked and came apart. Behind the fly of his leathers, his cock was screaming for attention, the rasp of the buttons not nearly sufficient to satisfy what it was demanding, but tough shit. His erection was going to have to chill for a while, because this was too sweet to stop anytime soon.

When Beth's knees wobbled, he took her down to the floor and stretched one of her legs up, keeping to his pace while shoving her fleece to her neck and putting his hand under her bra. As she orgasmed again, she grabbed onto one of the desk legs, pulling hard and bracing her free foot into the rug. His pursuit pushed them both farther and farther beneath where he discharged his kingly duties until he had to crouch down to fit his shoulders.

Eventually her head was out the other side and she was gripping the pansy-ass chair he sat in and dragging it with her.

As she cried out his name once more, he prowled up her body and glared at the stupid, nancy chair. "I need something heavier to sit in."

Last coherent thing he said. His body found the entrance to hers with an ease that spoke of all the practice they'd had and...Oh, yeah, still as good as the first time. Wrapping his arms around her, he rode her hard, and she was right there with him as the storm rolling through his body gathered in his balls until they stung. Together, he and his shellan moved as one, giving, receiving, going faster and faster until he came and kept going and came again and kept going until something hit his face.

In full animal mode, he growled and swiped at it with his fangs.

It was the drapes.

He'd managed to fuck them out from under the desk, past the chair, and over to the wall.

Beth burst out laughing and so did he, and then they were cradling each other. Easing onto his side, Wrath held his mate against his chest, and tugged her turtleneck and fleece back into place so she wouldn't be cold.

"So what did happen at the meeting?" she said eventually.

"None of the council showed." He hesitated, wondering where the lines were with respect to Rehv.

"Not even Rehv?"

"He was there, but the others didn't make it up. Evidently, the council is scared of me, which is not a bad thing." Abruptly, he took her hands. "Listen, ah, Beth..."

Tension threaded through her reply. "Yes?"

"Honesty, right?"

"Right."

"Something did go down. It involves Rehvenge...his life...but I don't feel comfortable telling you the ins and outs because it's his biz. Not mine."

She exhaled. "If it doesn't involve you or the Brotherhood-"

"It does only because it puts us in a difficult position." And Beth would be in the same tight spot if she were in on the info. The thing was, protecting the identity of a known symphath was only half the problem. Last time Wrath had checked, Bella didn't have a clue what her brother was. So Beth would have to keep the secret from her friend, too.

His shellan frowned. "If I ask exactly how it presents an issue for you guys, I'm going to know what it is, right?"

Wrath nodded and waited.

She ran her hand down his jaw. "And you would tell me, wouldn't you."

"Yeah." He wouldn't like it, but he would. Without hesitation.

"Okay...I'm not going to ask." She leaned up to kiss him. "And I'm glad you gave me the choice."

"See, I'm trainable." He held her face and pressed his mouth to hers a couple of times, feeling the smile that lit her lips by the way the stroking sensation changed.

"Speaking of training, how'd you like some food?" she said.

"Oh, how I love you."

"I'll deliver."

"I think I'd better clean you up first." He whipped off his black shirt and carefully stroked up her thighs to her core.

"You're doing more than cleaning me up," she drawled as he let his hand rub between her thighs.

He surged up, making a move to mount her again. "Can you blame me? Mmmm..."

She laughed and held him back. "Food. Then more sex."

He nibbled at her mouth, thinking that eating was so overrated. But then her tummy rumbled, and he was instantly all about getting her fed, his instinct to protect and provide overriding the sexual one.

Putting his wide palm on her flat belly, he said, "Let me get it for-"

"No, I want to wait on you." She touched his face again. "Stay here. I won't be long."

As she got to her feet, he rolled onto his back and stuffed his well-used, but still very stiff cock in his leathers.

Beth bent down to pick up her jeans, giving him a hell of a view and causing him to wonder if he could wait even five minutes before getting into her again.

"You know what I feel like?" she murmured as she pulled her Sevens into place.

"Like you've been making love with your hellren and are about to do some more of that good ol' bump-and-grind?"

God, he loved making her laugh.

"Well, yes," she said, "but when it comes to food...I want homemade stew."

"Is it already made?" Please let it be-

"There's beef left over from-Look at that face!"

"Rather have less of you in the kitchen and more of you on my..." Okay, he so wasn't finishing that sentence.

She seemed to filled in the blank just fine, though. "Hmm, I'll be fast."

"You do that, leelan, and I'll give you a dessert that'll make your head spin."

She showed him some serious hip sway as she went across the room, a sexy little dance that left him growling, and in the doorway, she paused and looked back at him, the brighter light from the hall illuminating her.

And what do you know, his blurry vision gave him the loveliest parting gift: In the glow, he saw her long dark hair down over her shoulders and her flushed face and her tall body with all its curves.

"You are so beautiful," he said quietly.

Beth positively glowed at him, the scent of her joy and happiness intensifying until all he smelled was the fragrance of night-blooming roses that was hers alone.

Beth brought her fingertips to the mouth he'd ravished and blew him a soft, slow kiss. "I'll be right back."

"And I'll see you then." Although considering how sexed-up he was, they were both likely to just see more under-the-desk time.

After she left, he lay for a bit, his keen ears listening to her going down the grand staircase. Then he dragged himself off the floor, put the pansy chair back where it had been, and parked his ass behind the desk. He reached for his wraparounds to spare his eyes the dim light of the fire and let his head fall back-

The knock on the door made his temples sting in frustration. Man, he couldn't get two seconds of peace, could he...and by the scent of Turkish tobacco, he knew who it was.

"Come in, V."

As the Brother entered, the scent of that tobacco joined the subtle smoke of hardwood burning across the room.

"We have a problem," Vishous said.

Wrath closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping like hell his headache wasn't pulling in for the whole night, like his brain was a TraveLodge. "Talk to me."

"Someone e-mailed us about Rehvenge. Gave us twenty-four hours to deliver him to the symphath colony or they're going blow his cover to the glymera and make it clear that you and all of us knew about his identity and failed to take action."

Wrath's eyes popped open. "What the fuck?"

"I'm already digging around on the e-mail addy. With some broken-field running through IT land, I should be able to access the account and find out who it is."

"Shit...so much for that document not being read by anyone else." Wrath swallowed hard, the pressure in his head making him nauseous. "Look, contact Rehv, tell him what was sent. See what he says. The glymera's scattered and scared, but if that kind of shit gets out to them, we'd have no choice but to do something-otherwise we could have a riot on our hands not just of the aristocracy, but of the civilians as well."

"Roger that. I'll report back."

"Move fast."

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah. Go call Rehv. Goddamn it."

After the door closed again, Wrath groaned. The gentle light of the fire made the agony at his temples worse, but he wasn't into putting the flames out: Total darkness was not an option, not after this afternoon's little wake-up call, when midnight was all he had.

Shutting his lids, he tried to get past the pain. Little rest. That was all he needed.

Just a little rest.