watched covertly, wondering what it would feel like to be in that knot of limbs, wishing there were a welcome-home for him.
There was an awkward pause as Mary and Beth glanced over at him from Phury's embrace. The females quickly looked away, avoiding his eyes.
"So, Wrath is upstairs," Beth said, "waiting for you guys with the Brothers."
"Any word about Tohr?" Phury asked.
"No, and it's killing everyone. John, too."
"I'll go see the kid later."
Mary and Beth gave Phury a final squeeze; then he and Butch headed for the stairs. Z followed.
"Zsadist?"
He looked over his shoulder at the sound of Beth's voice. She was standing with her arms over her chest, and Mary was right by her side, looking similarly tense.
"We're glad you made it back," the queen said.
Z frowned, knowing that couldn't be true. He didn't imagine they liked having him around.
Mary spoke up. "I lit a candle for you. I prayed that you would come home safely."
A candle... lit for him? Only for him? As the blood hit his face, he felt pathetic that the kindness meant so much.
"Thank you." He bowed to them and then rushed up the stairs, sure he was the color of a ruby. God... Maybe he'd get better at the whole relating thing. Someday.
Except when he walked into Wrath's study and felt the eyes of his Brothers all over him, he thought, Maybe not. He couldn't stand the scrutiny; it was too much when he was this raw. As his hands started to shake, he shoved them into his pockets and went to his usual corner, far away from the others.
"I don't want anyone going out to fight tonight," Wrath announced. "We're all too much in our heads right now to be effective. And I want you boys back in the house by four A.M. As soon as the sun rises we'll be in mourning for Wellsie all day long, so I want you fed and watered before we get down to that. As for her Fade ceremony, we can't perform it without Tohr, so that's on hold."
"I can't believe no one knows where he's gone," Phury said.
Vishous lit up a hand-rolled. "I go to his house every night, and still there's no sign of him. His doggen haven't seen him or heard from him. He left his daggers. His weapons. His clothes. The cars. He could be anywhere."
"What about the training?" Phury asked. "Do we keep it up?"
Wrath shook his head. "I'd like to, but we're damn short-handed, and I don't want to overwork you. Especially because you need time to recover-"
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"I can help," Z interjected.
All heads turned in his direction. The disbelief on their faces would have been a laugh riot if it hadn't stung as much as it did.
He cleared his throat. "I mean, Phury would be in charge, and he'd have to do the classroom shit because I can't read. But I'm good with a knife, you know. Fists, too. Guns. Explosives. I could help with the physical training and the weapons parts." When there was no response, he looked down. "Yeah, or maybe not. It's cool.
Whatever."
The silence that followed made him itchy as hell. He shuffled his legs around. Eyed the door.
Fuck me, he thought. He should have kept his yap shut.
"I think that would be great," Wrath said slowly. "But are you sure you'd be into it?"
Z shrugged. "I could try."
More quiet. "Okay... so be it. And thanks for manning up."
"Sure. Ah, no problem."
When they broke a half hour later, Z was the first to leave the study. He didn't want to talk to the brothers about what he'd volunteered to do or how he was feeling. He knew they were all curious about him, probably looking for signs that he'd been redeemed or some shit.
He went back to his room to arm himself. He had a hard task in front of him, a long, hard task, and he wanted to get it over with.
Except as he went for the weapons cabinet inside his closet, his eyes latched onto the black satin robe Bella had worn so often. Days ago, he'd thrown it in the trash in the bathroom, but Fritz had obviously picked it out and hung it back up. Z leaned forward and touched the thing, then took it off the hanger, draped it over his arm, and stroked the smooth cloth. He brought it to his nose and breathed deep, catching both her scent and the smell of his bonding for