Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4)(66)

Butch yanked out of his roommate’s hold. “Jesus, V! What if that blood’s contaminated!”

“It’s fine. Just f—” With a boneless lurch, Vishous gasped and collapsed against the wall, eyes rolling back in his head, body twitching.

“Oh, God…!” Butch reached out in horror—

Only to have V cut the seizure off and calmly take a drink from his glass. “You’re fine, cop. Tastes perfectly okay. Well, fine for human guy, which really ain’t my ’tail of choice, you feel me?”

Butch hauled back and nailed his roommate in the arm with his fist. And as the brother cursed, Butch popped him another one.

V glared and rubbed himself. “Christ, cop.”

“Suck it up, you deserve it.”

Butch pushed by the brother and headed for his closet. As he tried to figure out what to wear, he was rough with his clothes, shoving them around on their hangers.

He stopped. Closed his eyes. “What the f*ck, V. Last night I was bleeding black. Now I’m not. Is my body some kind of lesser-processing plant?”

V eased onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard, resting his glass on his leather-clad thigh. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

Man, he was so tired of feeling lost. “I thought you knew everything.”

“Not fair, Butch.”

“Shit…you’re right. I apologize.”

“Can we screw the ‘sorry’ part and let me hit you back instead?”

As they both laughed, Butch forced himself to pick a suit and ended up tossing a blue/black Zegna on the bed next to V. Then he fingered his ties. “I saw the Omega, didn’t I. That thing in me was part of him. He put part of himself in me.”

“Yeah. That’s what I think.”

Butch felt a sudden need to go to church and pray for his salvation. “No going back to normal for me, is there.”

“Probably not.”

Butch stared at his tie collection, getting swamped by the colors and the choices. As he stood frozen with indecision, for some reason he thought about his family in South Boston.

Talk about normal…and they were unchanging, too, so relentlessly the same. For the O’Neal clan, there had been one pivotal event, and that tragedy had thrown the chessboard of the family up in the air. When the pieces had fallen, they’d landed in glue: After Jane had been raped and murdered when she was fifteen, everyone had stayed in their places. And he was the unforgiven outsider.

To cut off his train of thought, Butch pulled a bloodred Ferragamo from the rack. “So what’s on deck for you tonight, vampire?”

“I’m supposed to be off.”

“Good.”

“No, bad. You know I hate not fighting, true?”

“You’re strung too tight.”

“Hah.”

Butch glanced over his shoulder. “Do I need to remind you about this afternoon?”

V’s eyes dropped to his glass. “Nothing doing.”

“You woke up screaming so loud I thought you’d been shot. What the hell were you dreaming about?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t try and fade me, it’s annoying.”

V swirled the vodka around. Swallowed it. “Just a dream.”

“Bullshit. I’ve lived with you for nine months, buddy. You’re stone quiet if you sleep at all.”

“Whatever.”

Butch dropped his towel, pulled on a pair of black boxers and took a starched white button-down out of the closet. “You should let Wrath know what’s doing.”

“How about we don’t go there.”

Butch put on the shirt, buttoned it up, then snapped the pinstriped pants off their hanger. “All I’m saying—”

“Can it, cop.”

“God, you’re a tight-lipped bastard. Look, I’m here if you want to talk, okay?”

“Don’t hold your breath. But…’preciate it.” V cleared his throat. “By the way, I borrowed one of your shirts last night.”

“That’s cool. It’s you whoring my socks that pisses me off.”

“Didn’t want to see your girl in fighting clothes. Which is all I got.”

“She said you’d talked to her. I think you make her nervous.”

V said something that sounded like “I should.”

Butch looked over. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” V shot up off the bed and headed for the door. “Listen, I’m going to go hang at my other place tonight. Being here by myself when everyone’s on the job makes me bat shit. You need me, come find me at the penthouse.”

“V.” As his roommate stopped and looked back, Butch said, “Thanks.”

“For what?”

Butch lifted his forearm. “You know.”

V shrugged. “Figured you’d feel better being around her that way.”



John walked through the underground tunnel, his footsteps an echoing drumroll that made him feel how alone he was as nothing else could.

Well, alone except for his anger. That was with him always now, close as his own skin, coating him like his skin, too. Man, he couldn’t wait for class to start tonight so he could let some of it out. He was twitching, overactivated, restless.