Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4)(16)

Tough shit. He had to get his roommate out of here.

V ran toward what he could sense of Butch, his shitkickers punching through the crusty snow. Up ahead, the full moon shone brightly at the margin of a cloudless sky, but the presence of evil was so vivid V could have followed the way blindfolded. And shit, Butch was close to that blackness.

Fifty yards later, V saw the coyotes. They were circling something on the ground, growling not as if they were hungry but as if the pack was being threatened.

And whatever had captured their interest was of such magnitude they didn’t even notice V’s approach. To break them up, he pointed his gun overhead and let off a couple of rounds. The coyotes scattered and—

V skidded to a halt. As he looked at what was on the ground, he couldn’t swallow. Which was fine, because his mouth went dry.

Butch was lying in the snow on his side, naked, beaten, blood all over him, face swollen and bruised. His thigh was bandaged, but whatever wound was under the gauze had bled through. None of that was the horror, however. Evil was all around the cop…all around…shit, he was the black, foul footprint V had sensed.

Oh, sweet Virgin in the Fade.

Vishous did a quick scan of the environs, then dropped to his knees and gently laid his gloved hand on his friend. As a painful zinger shot up his arm, V’s instincts told him to bolt because what he’d laid his palm on was to be avoided at all costs. Evil.

“Butch, it’s me. Butch?”

With a groan, the cop stirred, a kind of hope flaring in his battered face, as if he’d lifted his head to the sun. But then the expression faded.

Dear Lord, the man’s eyes were frozen shut because he’d been crying and the tears hadn’t gotten far in the cold.

“Don’t worry, cop. I’m going to…” Do what? The male was about to die out here, but what the hell had been done to him? He was saturated by darkness.

Butch’s mouth opened. The hoarse sounds that came out might have been words, but they didn’t carry.

“Cop, don’t say anything. I’m going to take care of you—”

Butch shook his head and began to move. With pathetic weakness, he stretched out his arms and grabbed at the ground, trying to pull his broken body through the snow. Away from V.

“Butch, it’s me—”

“No…” The cop went all frantic, clawing, dragging himself. “Infected…don’t know how…infected…you can’t…take me. Don’t know why…”

V used his voice like a slap, making it sharp and loud.

“Butch! Stop it!”

The cop settled down, although whether it was because he was following orders or had run out of steam wasn’t clear.

“What the hell did they do to you, my man?” V whipped out a Mylar blanket from his jacket and put it around his roommate.

“Infected.” Butch awkwardly rolled onto his back and shoved the silver sheath down, his busted-up hand falling onto his belly. “In…fected.”

“What the f*ck…”

There was a fist-sized black circle on the cop’s stomach, something like a bruise with highly defined edges. In the center of it, there seemed to be…a surgical scar.

“Shit.” They’d put something in him.

“Kill me.” Butch’s voice was a chilling rasp. “Kill me now. Infected. Something…inside. Growing…”

V sat back on his heels and grabbed at his hair. Forcing his emotions to the back burner, he put his mind to work and prayed that his overdose of gray matter would come to the rescue. Moments later, the conclusion he reached was radical but logical, and it focused him to the point of calmness. He unsheathed one of his black daggers with a perfectly steady hand and leaned in to his roommate.

What shouldn’t be in there needed to come out. And given the evil that it was, the extraction had to be done here, in neutral territory, rather than at home or in Havers’s clinic. Plus, death was breathing down the cop’s neck, and the sooner he was decontam’d the better.

“Butch, buddy, I want you to take a deep breath, then hold still. I’m going to—”

“Be of care, warrior.”

V whirled around in a crouch. Right behind him, hovering above the ground, was the Scribe Virgin. As always she was pure power, her black robes unruffled by the wind, her face hidden, her voice clear as the night air.

Vishous opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Before you o’erstep your bounds and render inquiry, I will tell you, no, I cannot help directly. This is a matter of the sort I must stay out of. However, I will say this. You would be wise to unveil the curse you detest. Handling what is within him will bring you closer to death than ever you have been. And no one could remove it save you.” She smiled a little, as if she read his thoughts. “Yes, this moment now is part of the reason you dreamed of him in the beginning. But there is another why of which you may see in time.”

“Will he live?”

“Get to work, warrior,” she said in a hard tone. “You shall make more progress toward his salvation if you act rather than offend me.”

V leaned down to Butch and moved fast, drawing the knife over the cop’s belly. As a moan left the man’s cracked lips, a gaping hole opened up.

“Oh, Jesus.” There was something black cocooned in the flesh.