Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4)(85)

Butch spoke up nice and loud. “You fed her.”

Rehvenge blinked. Lifted his hand to his neck. “Excuse me?”

Butch growled at the bite marks, his body trying to break free again. God, it was like there were two halves of him. One that made a little sense. And one that was completely off the curve. Guess which side was winning.

“Marissa,” he spat. “You fed her.”

Rehv’s eyes peeled wide. “You’re the one? You’re the one she’s in love with?”

“Yeah.”

Rehv sucked in a shocked breath. Then he rubbed his face and dragged his collar together, hiding the wounds. “Oh…hell. Oh…for f*cking hell.” He turned away. “Vishous, get him gone and sober him up. Jesus Christ, the world is too goddamned small tonight, it really is.”

By this time, Butch’s knees were going rubber and the club was starting to spin like a top. Man, he was much more drunk than he’d thought, and that blow to the puss hadn’t helped.

Right before he passed out, he groaned, “It should have been me. She should have used me…”



Mr. X parked the minivan on an alley off Trade Street and got out. The city was gearing up for the night, the bars cranking their music and filling with the soon-to-be drunk and drugged.

Time to hunt for Brothers.

As Mr. X shut the door and adjusted his weapons, he looked over the Town & Country’s hood at Van.

Man, he was still disappointed as hell at the guy’s performance in the ring. Spooked, too. But then again, it was going to take a while for the power to coalesce. No lesser came out fresh from his initiation at full strength, and there was no reason to think that Van was any different just because he was the prophesied one.

Shit, though.

“How will I tell who’s a vampire?” Van asked.

Ah, yes. The job at hand. X cleared his throat. “The civilians will recognize you because they can smell you, and you’ll notice them when they get scared. As for the Brothers, there’s no mistaking them. They’re bigger and more aggressive than anything you’ve ever seen and they are first strikers. They will come after you if they see you.”

They walked out onto Trade. The night was sharp as a slap, that combination of cold and damp that had always energized X to fight before. Now, though, his focus was different. He had to be out in the field because he was the Fore-lesser, but all he cared about was keeping him and Van on this side of reality until the guy matured into what he was.

They were about to duck into an alley when Mr. X stopped. Swiveling his head, he looked behind them. Then across the street.

“What is it—”

“Shut up.” Mr. X closed his eyes and let his instincts go to work. Calming down, zoning out, he stretched his mental feelers through the night.

The Omega was nearby.

He flipped his lids open, thinking that had to be bullshit, though. The master couldn’t come over to this side without the Fore-lesser.

And yet the Evil was close.

Mr. X pivoted around on his combat boot. As a car drove down Trade, he stared over its roof at ZeroSum, that techno club. The master was in there. Definitely.

Oh, shit, had there been a change in Fore-lesser?

No, Mr. X would have been called home in that case. So maybe the Omega had used someone else to cross over? Could that even happen?

Mr. X jogged across the street to the club and Van was tight behind him, clueless but ready for anything.

ZeroSum’s wait line was full of humans in flashy clothes, shivering and smoking and talking on cell phones. He paused. In the back…the master was around back.



Vishous pushed open ZeroSum’s fire door with his hip and muscled Butch over to the Escalade. As he stuffed the cop into the backseat like a heavy rug roll, he prayed the bastard didn’t wake up punching.

V was getting behind the wheel when he sensed something coming, his instincts flaring up, the ring-a-ding-ding setting off his adrenal gland. Although the Brotherhood didn’t run from conflict by nature or training, his sixth sense told him to get Butch the f*ck away from the club. Now.

He started the engine and peeled out. Just as he came to the mouth of the alley, he saw a pair of men coming toward the SUV, one of which was pale-haired. Lessers. Except how had those two known to head back here?

V stomped on the gas. Got him and Butch good and ghost.

As soon as he was satisfied they weren’t being followed, he glanced back at the cop. Out. Cold. Man, that female security chief packed one hell of a punch. Then again, so had all that Lagavulin.

Butch didn’t move for the whole trip to the compound. In fact, it wasn’t until V carried the guy into the Pit and laid him out on his bed that the cop opened his eyes.

“Room’s spinning.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Face hurts.”

“Wait ’til you see it and you’ll know why.”

Butch closed his lids. “Thanks for bringing me home.”

Vishous was about to help the guy out of his suit when the doorbell rang.

With a curse, he went to the front of the gatehouse and checked the security monitors at his desk. He wasn’t surprised at who it was, but holy hell, Butch was not ready for primetime viewing right now.

V stepped into the vestibule and shut the door behind him before opening the outer one. As Marissa looked up at him, he could smell the sadness and the worry coming off her, the scent like dried roses.