need: lighting up red smoke after red smoke, hitting the Scotch or the vodka, slipping into the bathroom alone to relieve themselves privately.
"So is it over?" Butch asked. "Tell me it's over."
Phury shuffled off the bed. "Yeah. I think so."
He picked up a sheet and pitched it at Butch, who covered himself and Vishous. V didn't even twitch. He was sleeping like the dead on his stomach, his eyes squeezed shut, a soft snore coming out of his mouth.
The cop cursed and rearranged his body, propping a pillow up against the headboard and leaning back. He rubbed his hair until it stood straight off his head and yawned so wide Phury heard the guy's jaw crack.
"Damn, vampire, I never thought I'd say this, but I have absolutely no interest in sex. Thank God."
Phury pulled on a pair of nylon warm-ups. "You want food? I'm going to make a kitchen trip."
Butch's eyes blissed out. "You're actually going to bring it up here? As in, I don't have to move?"
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"You're going to owe me, but yeah, I'm willing to deliver."
"You are a god."
Phury put on a T-shirt. "What do you want?"
"Whatever's in the kitchen. Hell, make yourself really useful and drag that refrigerator on up here. I'm starved."
Phury went downstairs to the kitchen and was about to start foraging when he heard sounds coming from the laundry room. He went over and pushed the door open.
Zsadist was cramming sheets into the washer.
And dear Virgin in the Fade, he looked like hell. His stomach was a shrunken hole; his hips stood out from his skin like tent posts; his rib cage looked like a plow field. He must have lost ten, fifteen pounds overnight.
And-holy hell-his neck and wrists were chewed raw. But... he smelled of beautiful dark spices, and there was a peace about him, so deep and unlikely Phury wondered if his senses were playing tricks on him.
"My brother?" he said.
Z didn't look up. "Do you know how to work this thing?"
"Ah, yeah. You put some of that stuff in the box in and you move that dial around-Here, let me help."
Z finished stuffing the belly of the washer and then stepped back, his eyes still locked on the floor. When the machine was filling up with water, Z muttered a thank-you and headed into the kitchen.
Phury followed, his heart in his throat. He wanted to ask if everything was okay, and not just with Bella.
He was trying to choose his words carefully when Z took a roasted turkey out of the refrigerator, tore the leg off, and bit into it. He chewed desperately, cleaning the meat from the bone as fast as he could, and the moment he was done he ripped the other drumstick free and did the same thing.
Jesus... The brother never took meat. Then again, he'd never been through a night like last night before. None of them had.
Z could feel Phury's eyes on him, and would have stopped eating if he could have. He hated people looking at him, especially when he was chewing on something, but he just couldn't get the food in fast enough.
He kept shoving stuff in his face as he took out a knife and a plate and started slicing off thin shavings of the turkey breast. He was careful to take only the very best parts of the meat for Bella. The odd bits, the corners, the stuff close to the core, that he ate himself, as it was not as good.
What else would she need? He wanted her to eat calorically dense things. And drink-he should bring her something to drink. He went back to the refrigerator and began making a pile of leftovers for review. He would choose carefully, taking to her only what was worthy of her tongue.
"Zsadist?"
God, he'd forgotten that Phury was still kicking around.
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"Yeah," he said as he cracked a Tupperware bowl.
The mashed potatoes inside looked okay, though he really would have preferred bringing her some that he'd made. Not that he knew how to do that. Christ, he couldn't read, couldn't work a damn washing machine, couldn't cook.
He had to let her go so she could find a male who had half a brain.
"I don't mean to pry," Phury said.
"Yeah, you do." He took a loaf of Fritz's homemade sourdough bread out of the cupboard and squeezed the thing with his fingers. It was soft, but he sniffed at it anyway. Good, it was fresh enough