Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4)(84)

“You two want a room or a boxing ring?”

Vishous turned to see Rehvenge standing not three feet away, the male’s amethyst eyes glowing in the dimness. Under the floodlights, that mohawk was as dark as the floor-length sable coat he wore.

“Do we have a problem?” Rehvenge glanced back and forth as he took off his fur and handed it to a bouncer.

“Not at all,” V said. He glanced at the female. “Nothing doing, right?”

“Yeah,” she drawled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nothing.”

V pushed past the bouncers in front of the velvet rope and went straight for the Brotherhood’s table—oh…man.

Butch looked totally wasted and not just because he was drunk. His face was drawn in grim lines, his eyes half-closed. His tie was out of whack, his shirt partially unbuttoned…and there was a bite mark on his neck that had bled a little onto his collar.

And yup, he was spoiling for a fight, glaring at the rowdy table of highfliers two banquettes down. Shit, the cop was a hairbreadth away from jumping them, all coiled and ready to spring.

“Hey, my man.” V sat down real slowly, thinking no sudden movements was a good plan. “What up?”

Butch threw back his Scotch without looking away from the class-A asses next door. “How’re ya, V?”

“Good, good. So how many of those Lags you have?”

“Not enough. I’m still vertical.”

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Not particularly.”

“You got bit, buddy.”

As the waitress came over and picked up the cop’s empty, Butch touched the bite wounds on his throat. “Only because I forced her. And she stopped. She won’t take me, not really. So she’s with someone else. Right now.”

“Shit.”

“That’s about the gist of it. As we’re sitting here, my woman is with another man. He’s an aristocrat, by the way. Did I mention that? A fancy-ass male is touching…yeah, anyway…. Whoever he is, he’s stronger than I am. He’s giving her what she needs. He’s feeding her. He’s—” Butch cut off the tailspin. “So how’s your night going?”

“I told you, the drinking doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“Oh, I know that.” The cop leaned back as his next drink arrived. “You want some Goose? No? Okay…I’ll hold it down for the both of us.” He hammered half the Scotch before the waitress even turned around. “It’s not just the sex. I can’t stand the idea of someone else’s blood in her. I want to feed her. I want to keep her alive.”

“That’s not logical, my man.”

“Fuck logic.” He looked down at the Scotch. “Jesus…didn’t we just do this?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean…We were just here last night. Same drink. Same table. Same…everything. It’s like I’m locked into this pattern and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of me.”

“How about I take you home?”

“Don’t want to go back to th—” Butch’s voice cut off and he stiffened in his seat, his shot glass lowering slowly to the table.

V went on red alert. Last time the cop had sported that fixated expression there had been lessers in the f*cking bushes. Except as Vishous looked around, he saw no one special, just the Reverend walking into the VIP area and heading for his office.

“Butch? My man?”

Butch stood up from the table.

Then moved so fast, V had no time to catch him.





Chapter Twenty-six




Butch’s body was out of his control and acting independently as he shot across the VIP section at Rehvenge. All he knew was that he’d caught Marissa’s scent and tracked it over to the mohawk-sporting male. Next move was gunning for the guy like he was a felon.

He took the Reverend down hard, surprise working in his favor. As they hit the floor, the male’s “What the f*ck!” carried, and bouncers started homing in from all directions. Just before Butch got pulled off, he yanked Rehvenge’s shirt collar open.

There they were. Puncture marks right on the guy’s throat.

“No…shit, no…” Butch fought against the hard hands that grabbed at him, fought and kicked until somebody got in front of him, raised a fist and popped him one right in the face. As a bomb burst of pain went off in his left eye, he realized it was the female security guard who’d hit him.

Rehvenge plugged his cane into the floor and got up, his eyes a violent purple. “In my office. Now.”

There was some conversation at that point, not that Butch was following much. The only thing he could focus on was the male in front of him and the evidence of the feeding. He pictured the guy’s massive body underneath Marissa’s, her face dropping down into his neck, her fangs piercing skin.

No doubt Rehvenge had satisfied her. No. Doubt.

“Why did it have to be you?” Butch yelled into the fray. “I f*cking like you. Why did it have to be you?”

“Time to go.” V cranked Butch into a headlock. “I’m taking you home.”

“Not right now you aren’t,” Rehvenge snarled. “He took me down in my house. I want to know what the f*ck was going through his head. And then you’re gonna want to give me a good goddamn reason why I shouldn’t cap both his knees.”