Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4)(131)

“Which hand?”

“Ah…the right. Yeah, the right one.”

In a daze, Mr. X leaned back against the side of the Valu-rite Dry Cleaners building. And the prophecy came to him:



There shall be one to bring the end before the master,

a fighter of modern time found in the seventh of the twenty-first,

and he shall be known in the numbers he bears:

One more than the compass he apperceives,

Though mere four points to make at his right,

Three lives has he,

Two scores on his fore,

and with a single black eye, in one well will he be birthed and die.



Mr. X’s skin tightened all over. Shit. Shit.

If O’Neal could sense lessers, maybe that was the one more than the compass he apperceived. And the hand thing fit if he couldn’t point using his pinkie. But what about the extra scar—wait…the entryway where the Omega had put a part of himself into O’Neal…including his belly button that would be two scores. And maybe the black mark that had been left behind was the eye the Scrolls had mentioned. As for the born and die, O’Neal had been birthed in Caldwell as a vampire and would probably find his death here at some point, too.

The equation added up, but the real kicker was not the math. It was that no one, but no one, had ever heard of a lesser being offed like that.

Mr. X focused on Van, realization sliding into place and realigning everything. “You are not the one.”



“You should have left me,” Butch said as he and Rhage pulled up outside of V’s building. “Left me and gone after that other lesser.”

“Yeah, right. You were looking like roadkill, and there were more slayers on the way, I guarantee it.” Rhage shook his head as they both got out. “You want me to walk you up? You’re still sporting that special dead-squirrel glow.”

“Yeah, whatever. Go back out and fight those f*ckers.”

“I love it when you get all hard-core on me.” Rhage smiled a little, then grew serious. “Listen, about what hap—”

“That’s why I’m going to talk to V.”

“Good. V knows everything.” Rhage put the Escalade’s keys in Butch’s hand and gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. “Call me if you need me.”

After the brother disappeared into thin air, Butch went into the lobby, waved at the security guard, and grabbed an elevator. The ride up the building took forever and he passed the time feeling the evil in his veins. His blood was black again. He knew it. And he f*cking reeked of baby powder.

When he stepped out, feeling like a leper, he heard music thumping. Ludacris’s Chicken N Beer was all over the place.

He pounded on the door. “V?”

No answer. Hell. He’d already barged in on the brother once—

For some reason, the door clicked and eased open half an inch. Butch pushed it wider, every cop instinct in him screaming while the rap grew louder.

“Vishous?” As he stepped inside, a cold breeze shot through the penthouse, barrelling in through an open sliding glass door. “Yo…V?”

Butch glanced at the bar. There were two empty bottles of Goose and three caps on the marble counter. Binge time.

Heading for the terrace, he expected to find V passed out on a lounger.

Instead, Butch walked into a whole lot of heaven-help-us: Vishous was up on the wall that ran around the building, naked, swaying in the wind and…glowing all over.

“Jesus Christ…V.”

The brother wheeled around, then stretched his radiant arms wide. With a crazed smile, he slowly turned in a circle. “Nice, huh? It’s all over me.” He lifted a bottle of Goose to his lips and swallowed good and hard. “Hey, do you think they’ll want to tie me down and tattoo every inch of my skin now?”

Butch slowly crossed the terrace. “V, man…how ’bout we get you down from there?”

“Why? I bet I’m smart enough to fly.” V glanced behind himself at the thirty-story drop. As he weaved back and forth in the wind, his illuminated body was startlingly beautiful. “Yeah, I’m so f*cking smart I bet I can beat gravity. Wanna watch?”

“V…” Shit. “V, buddy, come down from there.”

Vishous looked over and abruptly seemed to sober up, his brows meeting in the middle. “You smell like a lesser, roommate.”

“I know.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ll tell you if you come down.”

“Bribes, bribes…” V took another pull on the Goose. “I don’t want to come down, Butch. I want to fly…fly away.” He tilted his head back to the sky and lurched…then caught himself by swinging the bottle. “Oops. Almost fell.”

“Vishous…Jesus Christ—”

“So, cop…the Omega’s in you again. And your blood’s black inside your veins.” V pushed his hair out of his eyes, and the tats on his temple showed, all backlit by the glow under his skin. “And yet you’re not intrinsically evil. How did she put it? Ah…yes…the seat of evil is in the soul. And you…you, Butch O’Neal, have a good soul. Better than what’s in me.”

“Vishous, come down. Right now—”

“I liked you, cop. From the moment I met you. No…not the first moment. I wanted to kill you when I first met you. But then I liked you. A lot.” God, V’s expression was nothing Butch had ever seen before. Sad…affectionate…but most of all…yearning. “I watched you with her, Butch. I watched you…making love to her.”