Lover Revealed (59 page)

Butch was prepared to say absolutely anything to get his friend off that ledge, but he truly had the sense that V was horrified with himself. Which was so unnecessary. You couldn't help the way you felt, and Butch wasn't threatened by the revelation. He somehow wasn't surprised, either.

"V, buddy, we're cool. You and me… we're cool."

V lost that longing expression, his face turning into a cold mask that was utterly frightening given the situation. "You were the only friend I had." More with that god-awful laugh. "Even though I had my brothers, you were the only one I was close to. I don't do relationships well, you know. You were different, though."

"V, it's the same for me. But can we get you—"

"And you weren't like those others, you never cared I was different. The others… they hated me because I was different. Not that it matters. They're all dead now. Dead, dead…"

Butch had no idea what the hell V was talking about, but the content didn't matter. The past tense being used was the problem.

"I am still your friend. Always your friend."

"Always… funny word, always." V started to bend at the knees, just barely keeping his balance as he sank into a crouch.

Butch moved forward.

"No, you don't, cop. You stop right there." V put the bottle of vodka down and traced his fingertips lightly over the neck of the thing. "This shit's taken good care of me."

"Why don't we share some?"

"Nah. But you can have what's left." Vishous's diamond eyes lifted up and the left one started to expand until it ate up all the white part. There was a long pause, then V laughed. "You know, I can't see anything… even when I open myself up, even when I volunteer for it, I'm blind. I'm future-impaired." He glanced at his body. "But I'm still a fucking nightlight. I'm like one of those goose lamps, you know, the kind you plug into the wall that glow?"

"Yes."

"You're a good Irishman, right?" When Butch nodded, V said, "Irish, Irish… let me think. Yeah…" Vishous's eyes sobered, and in a voice that cracked, he said, "May the road rise to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rains fall soft upon your fields. And… my dearest friend… until we meet again may the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand."

In one powerful surge, V sprang backward off the ledge into thin air.

Chapter Forty-three

"John, I need to talk to you." John looked up from Tohr's chair as Wrath came into the study and shut the door. Going by how grim the king looked, this was very serious, whatever it was.

Putting aside his lesson on the Old Language, John braced himself. Oh, God, what if it was the news he'd dreaded hearing every day for the last three months?

Wrath came around the desk and moved the throne so it faced John. Then he sat down and took a deep breath.

Yeah, this is it. Tohr's dead and they've found the body.

Wrath frowned. "I can smell your fear and sadness, son. And I can understand both, given the situation. The funeral is going to be in three days."

John swallowed and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, feeling a black whirlwind spin around him and take the world away.

"Your classmate's family has asked that all the trainees be present."

John jerked his head up.
What
? he mouthed.

"You classmate, Hhurt. He didn't make it through his change. He died last night."

So Tohr wasn't dead?

John scrambled to pull himself back from one brink, only to find himself looking over the edge of another. One of the trainees had
died
from the change?

"I thought you'd heard already."

John shook his head and pictured Hhurt. He hadn't known the guy well at all, but still.

"Sometimes it happens, John. But I don't want you to worry about it. We're going to take good care of you."

Someone had
died
during the transition?
Shit
… There was a long silence. Then Wrath propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. As his glossy black hair slipped over his shoulder, it brushed his leather-clad thighs. "Listen, John, we need to start thinking about who'll be there for you when you go through the change. You know, who will feed you."

Chapter Forty-four

Marissa nodded as she shifted her cell phone to her other ear and reviewed the order list on her desk. "That's right. We need an industrial range, six burners minimum."

Sensing someone in her doorway, she looked up. Only to have her mind go completely blank. "May I… ah, may I call you back?" She didn't wait for a reply, just hit the end button. "Havers. How did you find us?"

Her brother bowed his head. He was dressed as usual, in a Burberry sport coat, gray slacks, and a bow tie. His hornrimmed glasses were different from the ones she was used to seeing on him. And yet the same, too.

"My nursing staff told me where you were."

She rose from her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "And you have come here why?"

Instead of answering, he looked around and she could imagine he wasn't impressed. Her office was nothing more than a desk, a chair, a laptop computer, and a whole lot of hardwood floor. Well… and a thousand pieces of paper, each with something she needed to do on it. Havers's study, on the other hand, was an Old World den of learning and distinction, the floors covered by Aubusson rugs, the walls hung with his diplomas from Harvard Medical School as well as a fraction of his Hudson River School landscape collection.

"Havers?"

"You have done great things at this facility."

"We're just getting started, and it's a home, not a facility. Now why are you here?"

He cleared his throat. "I have come at the
Princeps
Council's request. We are voting on the
sehclusion
motion at the next meeting, and the
leahdyre
said he's been trying to reach you for the last week. You haven't returned the calls."

"I am busy, as you can see."

"But they cannot vote unless all of the membership is in the room."

"So they should remove me. In fact, I'm surprised they haven't figured out how to already."

"You are of the six founding bloodlines. You cannot be removed nor excused as things stand now."

"Ah, well, how inconvenient for them. You'll understand, however, if I'm not available that evening."

"I haven't told you a date."

"As I said, I'm unavailable."

"Marissa, if you disagree with the motion, you can make your stance clear during the testimony phase of the meeting. You can be heard."

"So all of you with voting rights are in favor?"

"It's important to keep females safe."

Marissa went cold. "And yet you turned me out of the only home I had thirty minutes before dawn. Does that mean you've changed your commitment to my sex? Or is it that you don't see me as female?"

He had the grace to flush. "I was highly emotional at the time."

"You seemed very calm to me."

"Marissa, I'm sorry—"

She cut him off with a slice of her hand. "Stop. I don't want to hear it."

"So be it. But you shouldn't impede the council just to get back at me."

As he fiddled with his bow tie, she caught a glimpse of the family's signet ring on his pinkie. God… how had they ended up like this? She could remember when Havers was born and she'd looked at him in their mother's arms. Such a sweet baby. Such a—

Marissa stiffened as something occurred to her. Then she quickly covered the shock that surely showed on her face. "All right. I'll go to the meeting."

Havers's shoulders eased and he told her the when and where. "Thank you. Thank you for this."

She smiled coolly. "You are so very welcome."

There was a long silence during which he eyed her pants and sweater and her desk of papers. "You seem very different."

"I am."

And she knew by the tight, awkward expression on his face that he had remained the same. He would have so preferred her in the mold of the
glymera
: a female of grace presiding over a home of distinction. Well, tough luck. She was all about rule number one now: Right or wrong, she made the choices in her life. No one else did.

She picked up her phone. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"