trapped in the compound, and by the time it was dark enough for them to get out, it would be too late. After prolonged exposure, males would instinctually resist leaving the female's vicinity. No matter what their brains told them, their bodies would fight the call to get away, and if they did depart from her, they would suffer withdrawal pangs that were worse than their cravings. Wrath and Rhage had outlets for their response, but the rest of the Brothers were in trouble. Their only hope was to numb themselves out.
And Bella... Oh, God... She was going to hurt more than all of them combined.
V rose from the table, steadying himself on the back of his chair. "Come on, Phury. We need to start smoking up. Now. Z, you're going to her, right?"
Zsadist shut his eyes.
"Z? Z, you're going to serve her-right?"
John looked up from the kitchen table as the phone rang. Sal and Regin, the family's doggen, were out getting groceries. He picked up the call.
"John, that you?" It was Tohr on the downstairs line.
John whistled and took another bite of his white rice and ginger sauce.
"Listen, school's canceled for today. I'm calling all the families now."
John lowered his fork and whistled an ascending note.
"There's a... complication at the compound. But we should be back on tomorrow or the night after. We'll see how things go. In light of this, we've moved up your appointment at Havers's. Butch is going to come get you right now, okay?"
John whistled twice, in little short puffs.
"Good... he's a human, but he's cool. I trust him." The doorbell rang. "That's probably him-yeah, that's Butch. I can see him on the video monitor. Listen, John... about this therapist business. If it creeps you out, you don't have to go back, okay? I won't let anyone make you."
John sighed into the phone and thought. Thank you.
Tohr laughed softly. "Yeah, I'm not much for the emotive crap either-Ouch! Wellsie, what the hell?"
There was a rapid conversation in the Old Language.
"Anyway," Tohr said into the phone. "You text-message me when it's done, okay?"
John whistled twice, hung up, and put his dish and fork into the washer.
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J R Ward: Lover Awakened
Therapist... training... Neither one was something to look forward to, but all things being equal, he'd take whatever shrink he was going to see over Lash any day. Hell, at least the appointment with the doc wouldn't last more than sixty minutes. Lash he had to deal with for hours.
On the way out he picked up his jacket and his notebook. As he opened the door the big human on the front stoop smiled down at him.
"Hey, J-man. I'm Butch. Butch O'Neal. Your taxi."
Whoa. This Butch O'Neal was... well, the man was dressed like a GQ model, for one thing. Under a black cashmere coat he had on a fancy pin-striped suit, an awesome red tie, a bright white shirt. His dark hair was pushed off his forehead in a casual, finger-brushed way that totally rocked out.
And his shoes... wow. Gucci, really Gucci... black leather, red-and-green band, shiny gold stuff.
Funny, he wasn't handsome, not in a Mr. Perfect kind of way, at least. The guy had a nose that had clearly been busted once or three times, and his hazel eyes were too shrewd and too exhausted to be classified as attractive. But he was like a cocked gun: He had a steely intelligence and a dangerous power about him that you respected. Because the combination was a flat-out killer, literally.
"John? We cool here?"
John whistled and stuck out his hand. They shook and Butch smiled again.
"So you good to go?" the man asked a little more gently. Like he'd been told John had to go back to Havers's to "talk to someone."
God... Was everyone going to know?
While John shut the door, he imagined the guys in his training class finding out, and wanted to throw up.
He and Butch walked over to a black Escalade with darkened windows and some serious chrome on the wheels. Inside, the car was warm and smelled like leather and the awesome aftershave Butch was wearing.
They took off and Butch hit the stereo, Mystikal pumping through the car. As John looked out the window at the flurries and the peach light that was bleeding from the sky, he really wished he were going anywhere else.
Well, except to class.
"So, John," Butch said, "I'm not going to front. I know why you're heading to the clinic, and I wanna tell you, I've had to