Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4)(132)

“What?”

“Marissa. I saw you, on top of her, in the clinic.” V whipped his incandescent hand back and forth through the air. “It was wrong, I know, and I’m very sorry…but I couldn’t look away. You two were so beautiful together and I wanted that…shit, whatever it was. I wanted to feel that. Yeah, just once…I wanted to know what it was like to have sex normally, to care about the person you were coming with.” He laughed in a horrible burst. “Well, what I want isn’t exactly normal, is it? Will you forgive me my perversion? Forgive me my embarrassing and shameful deprivation? Fuck…how I degrade us both…”

Butch was prepared to say absolutely anything to get his friend off that ledge, but he truly had the sense that V was horrified with himself. Which was so unnecessary. You couldn’t help the way you felt, and Butch wasn’t threatened by the revelation. He somehow wasn’t surprised, either.

“V, buddy, we’re cool. You and me…we’re cool.”

V lost that longing expression, his face turning into a cold mask that was utterly frightening given the situation. “You were the only friend I had.” More with that god-awful laugh. “Even though I had my brothers, you were the only one I was close to. I don’t do relationships well, you know. You were different, though.”

“V, it’s the same for me. But can we get you—”

“And you weren’t like those others, you never cared I was different. The others…they hated me because I was different. Not that it matters. They’re all dead now. Dead, dead…”

Butch had no idea what the hell V was talking about, but the content didn’t matter. The past tense being used was the problem.

“I am still your friend. Always your friend.”

“Always…funny word, always.” V started to bend at the knees, just barely keeping his balance as he sank into a crouch.

Butch moved forward.

“No, you don’t, cop. You stop right there.” V put the bottle of vodka down and traced his fingertips lightly over the neck of the thing. “This shit’s taken good care of me.”

“Why don’t we share some?”

“Nah. But you can have what’s left.” Vishous’s diamond eyes lifted up and the left one started to expand until it ate up all the white part. There was a long pause, then V laughed. “You know, I can’t see anything…even when I open myself up, even when I volunteer for it, I’m blind. I’m future-impaired.” He glanced at his body. “But I’m still a f*cking nightlight. I’m like one of those goose lamps, you know, the kind you plug into the wall that glow?”

“V—”

“You’re a good Irishman, right?” When Butch nodded, V said, “Irish, Irish…let me think. Yeah…” Vishous’s eyes sobered, and in a voice that cracked, he said, “May the road rise to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rains fall soft upon your fields. And…my dearest friend…until we meet again may the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand.”

In one powerful surge, V sprang backward off the ledge into thin air.





Chapter Forty-three




“John, I need to talk to you.”

John looked up from Tohr’s chair as Wrath came into the study and shut the door. Going by how grim the king looked, this was very serious, whatever it was.

Putting aside his lesson on the Old Language, John braced himself. Oh, God, what if it was the news he’d dreaded hearing every day for the last three months?

Wrath came around the desk and moved the throne so it faced John. Then he sat down and took a deep breath.

Yeah, this is it. Tohr’s dead and they’ve found the body.

Wrath frowned. “I can smell your fear and sadness, son. And I can understand both, given the situation. The funeral is going to be in three days.”

John swallowed and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, feeling a black whirlwind spin around him and take the world away.

“Your classmate’s family has asked that all the trainees be present.”

John jerked his head up. What? he mouthed.

“Your classmate, Hhurt. He didn’t make it through his change. He died last night.”

So Tohr wasn’t dead?

John scrambled to pull himself back from one brink, only to find himself looking over the edge of another. One of the trainees had died from the change?

“I thought you’d heard already.”

John shook his head and pictured Hhurt. He hadn’t known the guy well at all, but still.

“Sometimes it happens, John. But I don’t want you to worry about it. We’re going to take good care of you.”

Someone had died during the transition? Shit…

There was a long silence. Then Wrath propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. As his glossy black hair slipped over his shoulder, it brushed his leather-clad thighs. “Listen, John, we need to start thinking about who’ll be there for you when you go through the change. You know, who will feed you.”

John thought of Sarelle, who the lessers had taken along with Wellsie. His heart clenched. She was supposed to have been the one he used.

“We can play this one of two ways, son. We can try to line someone up on the outside. Bella knows some families who have daughters and one of them…hell, one of them might even make a good mate for you.” As John’s body got tight, Wrath said, “I’ve got to be honest, though—I’m not really into that solution. It could be hard to get an outsider to you in time. Fritz would have to pick her up, and minutes count when the change comes. But if you want—”