The Wolf (Black Dagger Brotherhood: Prison Camp #2)(34)

“FYI, I’m never jealous of Marissa,” he said around all the chocolate.

“Why would you be? She’s not a threat. She’s his mate—”

“Which is my point.” V went in for more candy because he was absolutely not perking up in the slightest already on just one swallow of the stuff. “I don’t want to be his fucking shellan.”

“Exactly. You want to be his best friend.” Rhage nodded out to the street. “And don’t worry, you are.”

Okay, V wasn’t relieved by that statement. Just like the M&M’s didn’t help.

“No offense,” he muttered, “but I think you need to leave the psych business to your Mary. You couldn’t be more off base if you were talking about someone else entirely—”

At that moment, there was a vibration in V’s free hand. Lifting his phone, he was so fucking relieved it was a text to the whole Brotherhood. As he called the message up, and Butch and Rhage also got their Samsungs out, V hoped it was something serious enough to demand immediate attention, but nothing that involved death or dismemberment.

Well, not among the Brotherhood, at least.

“Shit, shadows,” Rhage muttered as he put away the candy. “And not the good kind.”

“We gotta go.” V did the same with his cell and raised his voice. “Butch, we’re out.”

As his roommate looked over and nodded, Vishous studiously ignored a little surge of triumph—like he’d won a race and the trophy was a former-alkie, Southie ex-cop with a great sense of style, more loyalty than the moon to the earth, and the best laugh in the whole world short of Jane Whitcomb’s.

But there was no real competition here, especially because as if a human could ever be a threat? Whatever. Rhage had his head wedged on the jealousy thing—

Out in the middle of the street, Butch finally got moving—but it was to close the distance between him and his former partner. There was a pause, and then the two embraced.

Fortunately, that crap didn’t last long—and as Butch came over to V and started coordinating where they were all going to meet up, that homicide detective de la Cruz got in his unmarked and drove the fuck away.

“I’ll ride with you,” V said. “As backup. Let’s go.”

“Good deal,” his roommate agreed.

And justlikethat, everything was back as it should be.

Almost.

As V got into the Escalade’s passenger side, even though the SUV was technically his ride, he glanced across the console and couldn’t help himself.

“You gotta quit it with the interactions. Going in and out of his memories like that, scrubbing him so many times, it’s no good.”

Butch stared through the front windshield for a moment. Then he started the engine. “Yeah, I know. But he’s retiring. So no more running into him around town anymore.”

Wow, this was not another sort of relief, V told himself.

But damn, his roommate looked so fucking sad.

“You had to pick,” V said. “One side or the other—and you did.”

“I don’t want to go back to my old life.” Butch shook his head. “I had nothing then. I have everything now. When I see José? It reminds me of the way I was and I hate how I left him, just disappearing. That poor bastard saw me at my worst, and stuck by me, and what did I do? Not even a goodbye, an explanation . . . a reassurance. Makes me feel like a shitty friend.”

“You’re not that.”

Butch shrugged and put them in gear. “I was to José. I was the worst friend to him, and all he ever did was take care of my sorry ass and treat me with respect. Makes a male feel pretty goddamn small.”

V frowned and stared out the window as they proceeded down the street. “You could never be small. You have the biggest heart I know, and you’re a male of worth. Always have been.”

“You’re biased.”

“I cannot be biased. I am too logical for that.”

Just like he was waaaaaaaay too logical to be jealous of a human. Who wasn’t even in his roommate’s life anymore.

“I wish I could make it up to José somehow. I hate to leave him hanging, and yet he can’t have any memory of me in the present.”

“You gotta leave it, cop. There are some things that just have to be left, true?”

Next to him, Butch nodded.

And then neither of them said anything else.



When Lucan left the accident(s) in the intersection, he didn’t immediately know where to go. But while he was in a state of molecular scatter, his mind connected two dots, and he rerouted to a block of mostly abandoned walk-ups. As he re-formed across the street from the one he intended to go into, it was a case of surprise!

Like a couple of bad pennies stuck to his shoe, he found the blond-and the black-haired vampires in their matching leather zoot suits, hanging out in front of the battered entry of the five-story fall-down Lucan intended to enter.

Looked like it was a goddamn vampire convention—and he had a thought that if the goateed one was trying to find Rio, too, then this was a good place to be. Lucan had been here one time before, when he’d dropped off the samples of product for Mozart’s people to try as well as the baggies to send out into the streets. It seemed a good bet that Rio could be here, also—or, if he could find a human with knowledge of her, he could break into their brain and get some clues.