Zsadist took a step to the left, and Wrath went with him, using his body to shield her.
Zsadist chuckled, a deep, evil rumble. “You're actually willing to fight for a human?”
“She's Darius's daughter.”
Zsadist's head snapped to the side, those black pits of his probing her features. After a moment, there was a subtle softening in his brutal face, a drop in the sneer. And then he made a point to tuck in his shirt while looking her in the eye. As if he were apologizing.
Wrath did not step off, however.
“What's your name?” Zsadist asked her.
“Her name's Beth.” Wrath put his head into the path of Zsadist's vision. “And you're leaving.”
There was a long pause.
“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”
Zsadist strode over to the door, moving with the same lethal prowl Wrath did. Before he left, he stopped and looked back.
He must have been truly handsome once, Beth thought. Although it wasn't the scar that made him unattractive. It was the hellfire inside of him.
“Nice to meet you. Beth.”
She let her breath out as the door closed and the locks flipped into place.
“Are you okay?” Wrath asked. She could feel his eyes running over her body, and then he gently put his hands on her. “He didn't… he didn't touch you, did he? I heard you scream.”
“No. No, he just scared me. I woke up and he was in the room.”
Wrath sat down on the bed, still passing his palms over her as if he didn't believe she was okay. When he seemed satisfied, he pushed his hair back. His hands were shaking.
“You're hurt,” she said. “What happened?”
He put his good arm around her and pulled her against his chest. “It's nothing.”
“Then why do you need a sling? And a bandage? And why are you still bleeding?”
“Shhh.” He put his chin on the top of her head. She could feel his body trembling.
“Are you ill?” she asked.
“I just have to hold you for a minute. Okay?”
“Absolutely.”
As soon as his body calmed, she pulled away. “What's the matter?”
He took her face in his hands. Pressed his lips to hers. “I couldn't bear it if he'd… taken you away from me.”
“That guy? Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere with him.” And then she realized Wrath wasn't talking about a date. “You think he was going to kill me?”
Not that she couldn't see how that might have been possible. So cold. Those eyes had been so cold.
Instead of answering. Wrath's mouth came down on hers. She stopped him.
“Who is he? And what happened to him?”
“I don't want you near Z again. Ever.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was tender. His voice was not. “Are you listening to me?”
She nodded. “But what—”
“He walks into a room and I'm in the house, you come and find me. If I'm not around, you lock yourself in one of these rooms down here. The walls are made of steel, so he can't materialize inside. And don't ever touch him. Not even inadvertently.”
“Is he a warrior?”
“Do you understand what I'm telling you?”
“Yeah, but it would help if I knew a little more.”
“He's one of the brothers, but he's nearly soulless. Unfortunately, we need him.”
“Why, if he's so dangerous? Or is it only toward women?”
“He hates everyone. Except maybe his twin.”
“Oh, great. There are two like him?”
“Thank God for Phury. He's the only one who can get through to Z, although even then, it's not a sure thing.” Wrath kissed her forehead. “I don't want to scare you, but I need you to take this seriously. Zsadist's an animal, but I think he respected your father, so he may leave you alone. I just can't take any chances with him. Or you. Promise me that you'll stay away from him.”
“Okay.” She closed her eyes and leaned into Wrath. His arm came around her, but then he shifted back.
“Come on.” He pulled her up to her feet. “Come to my chamber.”
When they walked into Wrath's room, Beth heard the shower shut off. A moment later, the door opened.
The warrior she'd met before, the movie-star-handsome one who'd been stitching himself up, came out slowly. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair was dripping. He moved as if he were eighty, as if every muscle in his body hurt.
Good lord , she thought. He didn't look at all well, and there was something way wrong with his stomach. It was swollen, like he'd swallowed a basketball. Unsure what to make of his midsection, she wondered whether