pool, the vast rolling lawn. But he didn't focus on the manicured landscape. What he saw was the protection the compound offered.
Security lights illuminated the vista. Cameras mounted in trees recorded every passing moment. Motion sensors monitored each colorful leaf that fell to the ground. And if anyone tried to surmount that wall, they'd do a meet-and-greet with 240 volts of good night, Grade.
This was the safest environment for Mary. Bar none.
“She's not just any female to me,” he murmured. “I would have her as my shellan, if I could.”
Someone cursed while several others inhaled sharply.
“You don't even know her,” Tohr pointed out. “And she's a human.”
“So.”
Wrath's voice was low, insistent. “Rhage, man, don't pull out of the Brotherhood over this. We need you. The race needs you.”
“Then it looks like she's staying here, doesn't it?” When Wrath muttered something vile, Rhage turned to him. “If Beth were in danger, would you let anything stand in your way of protecting her? Even the Brotherhood?”
Wrath rose from the chair and came around the desk in a full stalk. He stopped when they were chest-to-chest.
“My Beth has nothing to do with the choices you've made or the situation you've put all of us in. Contact with humans is to be limited and on their territory only, you know that. And no one lives in this house except brothers and their shellans, if they have them.”
“What about Butch?”
“He's the sole exception. And he's only allowed because V dreams of him.”
“But Mary won't be here for forever.”
“How you figure that? You think the Society's going to give up? You think humans will suddenly become tolerant as a race? Get real.”
Rhage dropped his voice, but not his eyes. “She's sick, Wrath. She's got cancer. I want to take care of her, and not just because of this lesser nightmare.”
There was a long silence.
“Shit, you've bonded with her.” Wrath put a hand through his long hair. “For God's sake… You just met her, my brother.”
“And how long did it take you to mark Beth as your own? Twenty-four hours? Oh, right, you waited two days. Yeah, good tiling you gave it some time.”
Wrath let out a short laugh. “You gotta keep bringing my shellan into it, don't you?”
“Look, my lord, Mary is… different to me. I'm not going to pretend I understand why. All I know is, she's a pounding in my chest that I can't ignore… hell, that I don't want to ignore. So the idea of leaving her at the mercy of the Society is simply not an option. When it comes to her, every protective instinct I have goes into overdrive and I can't push that shit aside. Even for the Brotherhood.”
Rhage fell silent and minutes passed. Hours. Or maybe it was just a couple of heartbeats.
“If I allow her to stay here,” Wrath said, “it's only because you see her as your mate and only if she can keep her yap shut. And we still have to deal with the fact that you violated those orders from Tohr. I can't let that go. I've got to bring it to the Scribe Virgin.”
Rhage sagged in relief. “I'll accept any repercussions.”
“So be it.” Wrath went back to the desk and sat down. “We've got some other things to talk about, my brothers. Tohr, you're up.”
Tohrment came forward.
“Bad news. We heard from a civilian family. Male, ten years out of his transition, disappeared last night from the downtown area. I've sent a blast e-mail to the community informing everyone that they should use extra caution when going out and that anyone who's missing needs to be reported to us immediately. Also, Butch and I have been talking. The cop's got a good head on his shoulders. Any of you have a problem if I bring him in on a little of our business?” When there were a number of shaking heads, Tohr focused on Rhage. “Now tell us what happened last night in the park.”
After Rhage left, and when she felt steady enough to stand, Mary slid off the bed and checked the door. It was locked and solid, so she felt fairly safe. When she saw a light switch to the left, she hit it, illuminating the room.
Holy… house of Windsor.
Silk drapery hung from the windows in swaths of red and gold. Satin and velvet adorned a huge antique Jacobean bed, the posts of which must have been made out of whole oak trunks. There was an Aubusson rug on the floor, oil paintings