workup is going to tell me what's wrong, because it's not physical.
Look, I'll get it together." He glanced over his shoulder and exhaled. "I'm the smart one, remember? I'll figure this out."
Wrath lowered his wraparounds, his pale green eyes burning like neon penlights. "You've got a week to fix this, or I'm going to the Scribe Virgin about you. Now get your ass dressed. I need to talk to you about something else involving the cop."
As the king took off for the living room, V drew hard on his cigarette and then looked around for his ashtray.
Goddamn it, he'd left the thing out front.
He was about to head to the living room when he looked at his hand. Bringing the gloved nightmare up to his Page 208
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mouth, he peeled the leather off with his teeth and stared at his radiant curse.
Shit. The illumination was getting brighter and brighter every day.
Holding his breath, he pressed the lit cigarette into his palm. As the flaming end met his skin, the white glow beneath flared even stronger, backlighting the tattooed warnings until they appeared to be in 3-D.
The hand-rolled was consumed in a burst of light, the sting tingling his nerve endings. When only dust remained, he blew it off into the air, watching the little cloud rush forward and disintegrate into nothing.
Marissa took a tour through the vacant house and ended up back in the living room, where she'd started. The place was much bigger than she'd thought, especially given the six underground bedroom suites. God, she'd taken the lease because it had seemed so much smaller than her brother's-than Havers's-but size was so relative. This Colonial felt huge. And very empty.
As she pictured herself moving in, she realized that she'd never actually been in a house alone before. Back home, there had always been servants and Havers and patients and medical staff. And the Brotherhood's mansion was likewise full of people.
"Marissa?" Rhage's heavy boots came up behind her. "Time to go."
"I haven't measured the rooms yet."
"Have Fritz come back and do it."
She shook her head. "This is my house. I want to."
"Then there's always tomorrow night. But we have to get going now."
She took a last look around, then headed for the door. "Okay. Tomorrow."
They dematerialized back to the mansion, and as they came in through the vestibule, she could smell roast beef and hear talk drifting out of the dining room. Rhage smiled at her and started to disarm, stripping his dagger holster off his shoulders as he called out for Mary.
"Hey."
Marissa wheeled around. Butch was in the shadows of the billiards room, leaning on the pool table, a squat crystal glass in his hand. He was dressed in a fine suit and a pale blue tie... but as she stared at him, all she saw was him naked and propped up on his arms over her.
Just as heat swirled, his eyes shifted away. "You look different in pants."
"What-oh. They're Beth's."
He took a drink from his glass. "Heard you're renting a place."
"Yes, I've just come from-"
"Beth told me. So how much longer have you got here? A week? Less? Probably less, right."
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"Probably. I was going to tell you, but I just rented it, and with all the other drama, I didn't have time to. I wasn't hiding it from you or anything." When he didn't reply, she said, "Butch? Are you-are we... okay?"
"Yeah." He looked down into his Scotch. "Or at least we're going to be."
"Butch... Look, about what happened-"
"You know I don't care about the fire."
"No, I mean... in your bedroom."
"The sex?"
She flushed and dropped her eyes. "I want to try it again."
When he said nothing, she glanced up.
His hazel stare was intense. "You know what I want? Just once, I want to be enough for you. Just... once."
"You are-"
He spread out his arms and glanced down at his body. "Not like this I'm not. But I'm going to make it so I can be. I'm going to take care of this problem of me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Will you let me escort you in to dinner?" As if to distract her, he came forward and offered her his arm.
When she didn't take it, he said, "Trust me, Marissa."
After a long moment, she accepted his courtesy, thinking that at least he hadn't pulled away from her. Which was what she could have sworn he'd been doing just after the fire.