“Damn, vampire, didn't you get enough last night? That redhead looked like serious stuff. And so did her sister.”
“You know me. Always hungry.”
Yeah, well, fortunately for Rhage, there was an endless stream of women more than happy to oblige his needs. And sweet Jesus, the guy had them. Didn't drink. Didn't smoke. But he ran through the ladies like nothing Butch had ever seen.
And it wasn't like Butch knew a lot of choirboys.
Rhage looked over at V. “Go get dressed, man. Unless you were thinking of hitting One Eye in a towel?”
“Quit clocking me, my brother.”
“Then gitcha ass moving.”
Vishous stood up from behind a table weighed down with enough computer equipment to give Bill Gates a hard-on. From this command center, V ran the security and monitoring systems for the Brotherhood's compound, including the main house, the underground training facility, the Tomb and their Pit, as well as the system of underground tunnels that connected the buildings. He controlled everything: the retractable steel shutters that were installed over every window; the locks on the steel doors; the temperatures in the rooms; the lights; the security cameras; the gates.
V had set up the whole kit and caboodle by himself before the Brotherhood had moved in three weeks ago. The buildings and tunnels had already been up since the early 1900s, but they'd been unused for the most part. After events in July, however, the decision was made to consolidate the Brotherhood's operations, and they'd all come here.
As V went to his bedroom, Rhage took a Tootsie Roll Pop out of his pocket, ripped off the red paper, and put the thing in his mouth. Butch could feel the guy staring. And he wasn't surprised when the brother started in on him.
“So I can't believe you're getting all dolled up for a trip to One Eye, cop. I mean, this is heavy-duty, even for you. The tie, the cuff links—those are all new, right?”
Butch smoothed the Brioni down his chest and reached for the Tom Ford jacket that matched his black slacks. He didn't want to go into the Marissa thing. Just skirting around the subject with V had been enough. Besides, what could he say?
She blew my doors off when I met her, but she's been avoiding me for the past three weeks. So instead of taking the hint, I'm heading over to beg like a desperate loser.
Yeah, he really wanted to trot that out in front of Mr. Perfect, even if the guy was a good buddy.
Rhage rolled the lollipop around in his mouth. “Tell me something. Why do you bother with the clothes, man? You don't do anything with your mojo. I mean, I see you turn down females at the bar all the time. You saving yourself for marriage?”
“Yup. That's right. Got myself tied in a knot until I walk down that aisle.”
“Come on, I really am curious. Are you holding it for someone?” When there was only silence, the vampire laughed softly. “Do I know her?”
Butch narrowed his eyes, weighing whether the conversation would be over faster if he kept his mouth shut. Probably not. Once Rhage got started, he didn't quit until he decided he was finished. He talked the same way he killed.
Rhage shook his head ruefully. “Doesn't she want you?”
“We're going to find out tonight.”
Butch checked his cash level. Sixteen years as a homicide detective hadn't lined his pockets with much to speak of. Now that he was hanging with the Brotherhood? He had so much of the green, he couldn't possibly spend it fast enough.
“You're lucky, cop.”
Butch glanced over. “How you figure?”
“I've always wondered what it would be like to settle down with a female of worth.”
Butch laughed. The guy was a sex god, an erotic legend in his race. V had said that stories about Rhage were passed from father to son when the time was right. The idea that he'd downshift into being someone's husband was absurd.
“Okay, Hollywood, what's the punch line? Come on, hit me with it.”
Rhage winced and looked away.
Holy hell, the guy had been serious. “Whoa. Listen, I didn't mean to—”
“Nah, it's cool.” The smile reappeared, but the eyes were flat. He sauntered over to the wastebasket and dropped the lollipop stick in the trash. “Now, can we get out of here? I'm tired of waiting for you boys.”
Mary Luce pulled into her garage, shut off her Civic, and stared at the snow shovels hanging on pegs in front of her.