expression of respect. "Yes, I... I'll do it. I..." The female crossed the room in a daze, only to stop at the door. "Wait, my lord? I've never done anything like this before. I mean, I've worked at the clinic, but-"
"You're going to handle it just fine, Marissa. And, as a friend of mine told me once, you're going to ask for help when you need some. Got it?"
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"Uh... yes, thank you."
"Lot of work ahead of you."
"Yes..." She curtsied, even though she was wearing pants.
Wrath smiled a little, then looked at Butch, who was going after his female. "Yo, cop, you and V and I are getting together tonight. It's a go. Be back here in an hour."
Butch seemed to pale. But then he nodded and took off with Vishous in tow.
As Wrath refocused on his shellan, John quickly scribbled something on the pad and held it out to Beth. After she read it aloud for the king, Wrath inclined his head.
"You go right ahead, son. And yeah, I know you're sorry. Apology accepted. But you sleep up here from now on. Don't care if it's in that chair or in a bed down the hall, you sleep here now." As John nodded, the king said, "And one more thing. Every night at four a.m. you're taking a walk with Zsadist."
John blew a whistle in an ascending note.
"Why? Because I said so. Every night. Otherwise, you're out of the training program and you're out of here.
Dig? Whistle twice if you understand me and agree to this."
John did as he asked.
Then he awkwardly signed thank you. And left.
Chapter Thirty-three
Forty-five minutes later, Butch stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Marissa with Mary and John.
The three were bent over a diagram explaining New York State's interlocking human services agencies. Mary was taking the case study approach to teaching Marissa how it all worked, and John had volunteered to be the case.
Jesus, the kid had had it rough. Born in the bathroom of a bus station. Picked up by a janitor and taken to the Catholic orphanage. Then housed with foster parents who didn't give a shit after Our Lady downscaled its program. And it got worse: Quitting school at sixteen. Running away from the system. Living in squalor while he supported himself as a busboy downtown. He was lucky to be alive.
And Marissa was clearly going to help kids like him.
As the discussion continued, Butch noticed that her voice changed. Deepened. Grew more direct. Her eyes sharpened and her questions got even sharper. She was, he realized, incredibly smart, and she was going to be good at this.
God, he loved her. And he wanted desperately to be what she needed. What she deserved.
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As if on cue, he heard footsteps and smelled V's Turkish tobacco. "Wrath is waiting, cop."
Butch stared at his woman for a moment longer. "Let's do it."
Marissa looked up. "Butch? I would love to get your thoughts on a police force." She tapped the diagram. "I can see a lot of scenarios where we are going to need law enforcement intervention. Wrath is going to need to consider starting up some kind of civil guard."
"Anything you want, baby." His eyes memorized her face. "Just give me a few, okay?"
Marissa nodded, smiled in a distracted way, and went back to her work.
Unable to resist, he walked over and touched her shoulder. When she glanced up, he kissed her on the mouth and whispered, "I love you."
As her eyes flared, he kissed her again and turned away. Man, he hoped like hell this ancestor regression turned up something other than a shitload of Irish whitebread.
He and Vishous walked upstairs to the study and found the frilly French room empty except for Wrath... who was standing in front of the fire, one thick arm on the mantel. The king looked like he had brain strain as he stared into the flames.
"My lord?" V said. "This still a good time?"
"Yeah." Wrath motioned them in, his black diamond ring flashing on his middle finger. "Shut the doors."
"You mind if I get a little muscle?" V nodded down the hall. "I want Rhage in here holding the cop."
"Fine." As Vishous left, Wrath stared at Butch with such intensity, his eyes were like torches burning behind his wraparounds. "I didn't expect the Scribe Virgin to let us do this."
"I'm glad she is." Way glad.
"You understand what you're signing on for here? This is going to hurt