Dandy, thanks for asking. Take care of yourself, Marissa."
Shit. He'd just said that, hadn't he?
"I want to..." She stopped. "Would you call on me? Sometime?"
That had him pivoting around. Oh, sweet Mary, mother of God... She was so beautiful. Grace Kelly beautiful.
And with her Victorian speech and her genteel manner, she made him feel like a total loser, all babbles and shuffles in spite of his expensive clothes.
"Butch? Maybe you could... call on me."
"Why would I do that?"
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She flushed and seemed to wilt. "I had hoped..."
"Hoped what?"
"That perhaps..."
"What?"
"You might call on me. If you had some time. Perhaps you could come... calling."
Christ. He'd already done that and she'd refused to see him. No way he was volunteering for another crash course in ego bashing. This woman, female... whatever... was totally capable of whipping his ass, and he didn't need more of that kind of rash, thank you very much. Besides, Mr. Bentley was showing up at her back door.
At that thought, an evil, very male part of him wondered if she was still the untouched virgin she'd been when he'd met her over the summer. Probably not. Even if she was still shy, now that she was away from Wrath she must have taken a lover. Hell, Butch knew firsthand the kind of kiss she could lay on a man; there had been only that one time, but she'd had him tearing the arm off a chair, he got so cranked. So, yeah... she'd definitely found a man. Maybe a couple. And she'd show them a hell of a ride.
As she opened her perfect, pink, godforsaken rosebud of a mouth again, he cut her off. "No, I'm not going to call on you. But I do mean what I said. I hope you... take care of yourself."
Okay, that was three times with the little phrase. He needed to hit the road before he sported a fourth.
Butch strode over to the elevator. By some miracle the thing opened the moment he punched the up button. He stepped inside and kept his eyes from her.
As the doors closed, he thought she might have said his name one last time. But knowing him, he was just imagining it. Because he really wished she-Oh, shut up, O'Neal. Just shut up and drop it.
When he strode out of the clinic, he was walking so fast, he was practically running.
Chapter Forty-three
Zsadist tracked the lone pale-haired lesser into the maze of downtown alleys. The slayer was moving quickly in the falling snow, alert, scanning, looking for prey among the straggling bar riders who were out in the cold in their club clothes.
Behind him Z was light over the ground, running on the balls of his feet, keeping close but not too close.
Dawn was coming fast and hard, and even though he was skimming the edge of night right now, he wanted this kill. All he needed was to get the slayer away from prying, human eyes...
The right moment came as the lesser slowed and considered the intersection between Eighth and Trade Street.
It was just a pause, a short internal debate on whether to go left or right.
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Zsadist struck fast, materializing right behind the slayer, wrapping an arm around the bastard's neck, and pulling him into the darkness. The lesser fought back, and the struggle sounded like flags flapping in the wind as two male bodies thrashed and jackets and pants whipped around in the cold air. The lesser was on the ground within moments, and Z looked into its eyes as he lifted his dagger. He plunged the black blade into a thick chest. The pop and flare faded quickly.
As Z stood up, there was no satisfaction at all. He was on a violent kind of autopilot. Ready, willing, and able to kill, but moving in a dream state.
Bella was all that was on his mind. Actually, it went deeper than that. The absence of her was a tangible weight hanging from his body: He missed her with a crippling kind of desperation.
Ah, yes. So the rumors were true. A bonded male without his female might as well be dead. He'd heard that piece of bullshit before and never believed it. Now he was living the hard-core truth.
His cell phone rang and he answered the thing, because that was what you did when it went off. He had no real interest in who was on the other end.
"Z, my man." Vishous said. "Got a really weird message