Lover Awakened (Black Dagger Brotherhood #3)(15)

Butch walked over to the door and punched in a code. A lock popped and he stepped into a vestibule, where he did another check-in. Vampires were big on double door systems. That way you never worried about someone flooding your house with sunlight, because one of the buggers was always closed.

The gatehouse, a.k.a. the Pit, was nothing too fancy, just a living room, galley kitchen, and two bed/bath combos. But he liked it, and he liked the vampire he lived with. He and his roomie were tight as…well, brothers.

As he walked into the main room, the black leather couches were empty, but SportsCenter was on the plasma-screen TV, and the chocolaty scent of red smoke was all around. So Phury was in the house, or had just left.

“Hello, Lucy,” Butch called out.

The two Brothers came from the back. Both were still dressed in their fighting clothes, the leathers and the shitkickers making them look exactly like the killers they were.

“You seem tired, cop,” Vishous said.

“Actually, I feel strung out.”

Butch eyed the blunt at Phury’s mouth. Even though he’d put his drugging days long behind him, tonight he almost caved and asked for a hit of that red smoke. Thing was, he already had two addictions so he was kind of busy.

Yeah, sucking back Scotch and pining after a female vampire who didn’t want him were about all he had time for. Besides, there was no reason to screw with a system that worked. The lovelorn crap fueled the boozing, and whenever he was drunk, he missed Marissa even more, so then he’d want to do another shot…. And there you had it. One hell of a merry-go-round. Even made the room spin, too.

“You talk to Z?” Phury asked.

Butch stripped off his cashmere coat and hung it in the closet. “Yeah. He wasn’t happy.”

“Is he going to stay away from there?”

“I think so. Well, assuming he didn’t burn the place down after he kicked me out. He had that special little twinkle in his eye as I left. You know, the one that makes your balls get tight when you’re standing next to him?”

Phury dragged a hand through his outrageous hair. The stuff fell down past his shoulders, all blond and red and brown waves. He was a handsome Joe without it; with that mane, he was…okay, fine, the brother was beautiful. Not that Butch went that way, but the guy was better-looking than a lot of women. Dressed better than most of the ladies, too, when he wasn’t in his ass-kicking clothes.

Man, it was a good thing he fought like a nasty bastard or he might have been taken for a nancy.

Phury sucked in a deep breath. “Thanks for dealing with—”

A phone rang on a desk full of computer equipment.

“Outside line,” V murmured, going over to his IT command center.

Vishous was the resident computer genius in the Brotherhood—actually, he was the resident genius on everything—and he was in charge of communications and security at the compound. He ran it all from the Four Toys, as he called his quartet of PCs.

Toys…yeah, right. Butch didn’t know jack about computers, but if those suckers were toys, then they were in the Department of Defense’s playground, too.

While V waited for the call to dump into voice mail, Butch glanced at Phury. “So, have I shown you my new Marc Jacobs suit?”

“Did that come in already?”

“Yeah, Fritz brought it over earlier and fitted it.”

“Sweet.”

As they went back to the bedrooms, Butch had to laugh. He was as guilty as Phury when it came to being a metrosexual thread humper. Funny, he hadn’t given a shit about his clothes when he’d been a cop. Now that he was with the Brothers, he was working his walk in haute couture and loving it. So, like Phury, he was lucky he fought dirty.

The Brother was fondling yards of fine black wool on a hanger and making appropriate “ahhhing” sounds when V came in.

“Bella’s alive.”

Butch and Phury whipped their heads around as the suit landed on the floor in a heap.

“Civilian male was abducted from the alley behind ZeroSum tonight and taken to a place way out in the woods for the purpose of feeding Bella. He saw her. Talked with her. Somehow she let him go.”

“Tell me he can find the place again,” Butch breathed, aware of a suffocating urgency. And he wasn’t the only one on instant alert. Phury looked so intense he didn’t seem capable of speech.

“Yeah. He marked his way out, dematerializing two hundred yards at a time until he reached Route 22. He’s e-mailing me the trail on a map. Damn smart for a civilian.”

Butch ran out to the living room, heading for his coat and the keys to the Escalade. He hadn’t taken off his holster, so his Glock was still strapped under his arm.

Except V got between him and the door. “Where you going, my man?”

“Has that map come through your e-mail yet?”

“Stop.”

Butch glared at his roommate. “You can’t go out during the day. I can. Why the hell should we wait?”

“Cop”—V’s voice grew soft—“this is Brotherhood business. You’re not going in on this.”

Butch stalled. Ah, yes, shut down again.

Sure, he could work around their periphery, do some crime scene analysis, get his gray matter churning over tactical problems. But when the fighting started, the Brothers always kept him off the field.