did in a manner of speaking. His glance flicked over the pants she had on and he winced.
"Marissa."
"Havers."
"You look... well."
Nice enough words. But what he meant was she looked different. And he didn't approve. "I am well."
"If you'll excuse me."
As he left without waiting for a response, anger boiled up into her throat, but she didn't let the nasty words on her tongue fly. Instead, she went to the bedside and sat down. While she took the little female's hand, she tried Page 222
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to figure out what to say, but the young's singsong voice got there first.
"My father is dead," the child said factually. "My mahmen is scared. And we have nowhere to sleep if we leave here."
Marissa closed her eyes briefly, thanking the dear Scribe Virgin that at least she had an answer for one of those problems.
She looked over at the mother. "I know exactly where you should go. And I'm going to take you there soon."
The mother started to shake her head. "We have no money-"
"But I can pay rent," the young said, holding up her tattered tiger. She loosened the stitching on the back, dug her hand in and took out the wishing plate. "This is gold, right? So it's money... right?"
Marissa breathed in deeply and told herself not to cry. "No, that's a gift to you from me. And there is no rent to be paid. I have an empty home and it needs people to fill it." She glanced once again at the mother. "I would love it if you two would stay there with me as soon as my new house is ready."
When John finally went back to the locker room after his meltdown, he was all alone. Wrath had returned to the main house, Lash had been taken away to the clinic, and the other guys had gone home.
Which was good. In the resounding quiet, he took the longest shower of his life, just stood under the hot spray, letting the water run down him. His body felt achy. Sick.
Jesus Christ. Had he really bitten the king? Beaten a classmate?
John eased back against the tile. In spite of all the spray washing over him and the soap he'd used, nothing cleaned him off. He still seemed curiously... dirty. But then, disgrace and shame did make you feel like you were covered in pig shit.
Cursing, he looked down at the sparse muscles of his chest and the sunken pit of his stomach and the pointy knobs of his hips, looked past his utterly unimpressive sex to his little feet. Then followed the tile to the drain where Lash's blood had funneled out.
He could have killed the guy, he realized. He'd been that out of control.
"John?"
He jerked his head up. Zsadist was standing in the shower's entryway, his face utterly impassive.
"You finish, you come up to the main house. We'll be in Wrath's study."
John nodded and turned the water off. Chances were very good that he was going to be kicked out of the training program. Maybe out of the house. And he couldn't blame them. But God, where would he go?
After Z left, John toweled dry, put his clothes on, and went across the hall to Tohr's office. He had to keep his eyes down as he passed through on his way to the tunnel. He couldn't bear any of his memories of Tohrment right now. Not a single one.
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Couple minutes later he was in the mansion's foyer, staring up at the grand staircase. He climbed the red-carpeted steps slowly, feeling unbearably tired, and the exhaustion grew worse when he got to the top: The double doors to Wrath's study were open and voices spilled out, the king's and others'. How he would miss them all, he thought.
The first thing he noticed when he stepped into the room was Tohr's chair. The ugly green monster had been moved and was now behind and to the left of the throne. Odd.
John walked forward and waited to be acknowledged.
Wrath was bent over a fancy little desk piled with papers, a magnifying glass in his hand apparently helping him to read. Z and Phury were flanking the king, one on either side, both leaning over the map Wrath was looking at.
"This is where we found the first torture camp," Phury said, pointing to a big green stretch. "Here's where Butch was found. Here's where I was taken."
"Big spread between them all," Wrath muttered. "Lot of miles."