Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4)(58)

“Sally Forrester’s Honda.”

“Whose?”

“No idea, I stole it. Look, I’m not pulling anything strange.” Yeah, right. “Well, the lesser kind of strange. I just need to see Marissa.”

There was a long silence. “I’ll let you in through the gates. Hell, the mhis has kept those slayers off this property for seventy years, so it’s not like they could track you here. And I don’t believe you’re coming after us. Unless I’ve got my head wedged?”

“Damn straight I’m not.”

Butch repositioned the Sox cap, and as his wrist passed by his nose, he got another whiff of himself. “Ah, V…listen, there is something a little weird going down with me.”

“What?”

“I smell like men’s cologne.”

“Good for you. Females dig that kind of thing.”

“Vishous, I smell like Obsession for Men, only I’m not wearing any, you feel me?”

There was silence on the line. Then, “Humans don’t bond.”

“Oh, really. You want to tell that to my central nervous system and my sweat glands? They’d appreciate the news flash, I’m sure.”

“You noticed it after you two were in that patient room together?”

“It’s been worse since then, but I thought I smelled something like it one other time.”

“When?”

“I watched her get into a car with a male.”

“How long ago?”

“Like three months. Palmed a Glock when I saw it happen.”

Silence. “Butch, humans do not bond like we do.”

“I know.”

More silence. Then, “Any chance you were adopted?”

“No. And there are no fangs in the family, if that’s what you’re thinking. V, man, I drank some of you. Are you sure that I haven’t become—”

“Genetics is the only way. That bite/turning thing’s just bullshit folklore. Look, I’ll let you through the gates and we’ll talk after you see her. Oh, and check it. Wrath has no problem working over lessers to find out what happened to you. But he doesn’t want you involved.”

Butch’s hand cranked hard on the steering wheel. “Fuck. That. I spent hours earning the right for payback, V. I bled for the right to knock those *s around and get my own answers.”

“Wrath—”

“Is a nice guy, but he ain’t my king. So he can lay down on this.”

“He just wants to protect you.”

“Tell him I don’t need the favor.”

V let off a foul-sounding line or two in the Old Language, then muttered, “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“One last deet, cop. Marissa’s a guest of the Brotherhood’s. If she doesn’t want to see you, we’re going to haul your ass out, true?”

“If she doesn’t want to see me, I’ll leave on my own. I swear.”





Chapter Seventeen




When Marissa heard a knock on the door, she cracked her eyes open and checked the clock. Ten in the morning and she hadn’t slept at all. God, she was exhausted.

But maybe it was Fritz with a report on her things. “Yes?”

The door opened to reveal a big dark shadow with a baseball hat.

She sat up, keeping the covers to her bare breasts. “Butch?”

“Hi.” He removed the cap from his head, crushing it in one hand, scrubbing his hair around with the other.

She willed a candle to light. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah…I wanted to make sure you were okay in person. Plus your phone…” His eyebrows lifted as if he’d caught sight of the cord she’d ripped out of the wall. “Um, yeah…your phone isn’t working. Mind if I come in for a minute?”

As she took a deep breath, all she smelled was him, the scent going in her nose and blooming all over her body.

Bastard, she thought. Irresistible bastard.

“Marissa, I won’t crowd you, I promise. And I know you’re pissed off. But can we just talk?”

“Fine,” she said, shaking her head. “But don’t think we’re going to solve anything.”

As he stepped forward, it dawned on her that this was a bad idea. If he wanted to talk, she should meet him downstairs. After all, he was very male. And she was very naked. And they were now…yup, shut in a bedroom together.

Good planning. Excellent work. Maybe she should jump out a window next.

Butch leaned back against the door he’d closed. “First, are you all right here?”

“Yes, I am.” God, this was awkward. “Butch—”

“I’m sorry I got all Humphrey Bogart, big man on you.” His bruised face assumed a wince. “It’s not that I don’t think you can take care of yourself. I’m absolutely scared shitless of myself and I can’t handle the idea of you getting hurt.”

Marissa stared at him. See, this was simply awful. This humble apology stuff was liable to get through to her if he kept it up. “Butch—”

“Wait, please—just hear me out. Hear me out and then I’ll leave.” He inhaled slowly, his big chest expanding under his fine black coat. “Keeping you away from me seems like the only way to make sure you’re safe. But that’s about me being dangerous, not you being weak. I know you don’t need to be sheltered or have some kind of caretaker.”