Just tired.
"You sure?"
He nodded and looked at Tohr so the man would think he wasn't lying. Meanwhile he was withering in his own skin. What the hell would Tohr think if he knew what had happened? Real men did not allow that to be done to them no matter what kind of weapon was at their throats.
John wrote, Next time I want to go to Havers's alone, okay?
Tohr frowned. "Ah... that's not really smart, son. You need a guard."
Then it needs to be someone else. Not you.
John couldn't look at Tohr when he flashed the paper. There was a long silence.
Tohr's voice became very low. "Okay. That's... ah, that's fine. Maybe Butch can take you."
John closed his eyes and exhaled. Whoever this Butch was would work for him.
Tohr started the car. "It's whatever you want, John."
John. Not son.
As they headed out, all he could think was, Dear God, please don't let Tohr ever find out.
Chapter Thirteen
As Bella hung up the phone, she had a passing thought that what was going on inside her chest was so explosive, she was going to shatter at any moment. There was just no way her brittle bones and her fragile skin could hold in the kind of emotion she was feeling.
In desperation she looked around the room, seeing the vague, blurry outlines of oil paintings and antique furniture and lamps made from Oriental vases and... Phury staring at her from a chaise longue.
She reminded herself that, like her mother, she was a lady. So she should at least pretend to have some self-control. She cleared her throat. "Thank you for staying while I made that call to my family."
"Of course."
"My mother was... greatly relieved to hear my voice."
"I can imagine."
Well, at least her mother had spoken words of relief. Her affect had been as smooth and calm as always. God... the female was ever the still-watered pond, unshaken by earthly events no matter how grim. And all because of her devotion to the Scribe Virgin. To mahmen, everything happened for a reason... yet nothing ever seemed particularly important.
"My mother... is greatly relieved. She..." Bella stopped.
She'd already said those words, hadn't she? "Mahmen was... she really was... she was relieved."
But it would have helped if she had at least choked up. Or shown anything but the beatific acceptance of the spiritually enlightened. For chrissakes, the female had buried her daughter and then been witness to a resurrection. You'd think that would call for some kind of emotional reaction. Instead it was as if they'd just spoken yesterday, and nothing of the past six weeks had occurred.
Bella glanced back down at the phone. Wrapped her arms around her stomach.
With no warning whatsoever, she cracked wide-open. The sobs came out of her like sneezes: fast, hard, shocking in their ferocity.
The bed dipped, and strong arms came around her. She fought the pull, thinking that a warrior wouldn't want to deal with such sloppy weakness.
"Forgive me..."
"It's okay, Bella. Lean on me."
Oh, hell... She collapsed against Phury, wrapping her arms around his tight waist. His long, beautiful hair tickled her nose and smelled good and felt wonderful under her cheek. She burrowed into it, breathing deep.
When she finally calmed down she felt lighter, but not in a good way. The angry emotions had filled her out, given her contours and weight. Now, because her skin was nothing more than a sieve, she was leaching out, becoming air... becoming nothing.
She didn't want to disappear.
She inhaled and broke free of Phury's embrace. Blinking rapidly, she tried to focus her eyes, but the blurriness from the ointment persisted. God, what had that lesser done to her? She had a feeling it had been bad...
She reached up to her eyelids. "What did he do to me?"
Phury just shook his head.
"Was it that ugly?"
"It's over. You're safe. That's all that matters."
None of it feels over to me, she thought.
But then Phury smiled, his yellow stare impossibly tender, a balm that soothed her. "Would it be easier if you were at home? Because if you want, we can find a way to get you there, even though the dawn's coming very soon."
Bella pictured her mother and couldn't imagine being in the same house with that female. Not right now. And even more to the point, there was Rehvenge. If her brother saw her with any kind of injury he'd go crazy, and the last thing she needed was him on the warpath against the lessers. She wanted the violence to stop. As far as she