Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4) - J.R. Ward Page 0,38

paper bags. "I think I'll take a shower.

Will you excuse me?" She didn't wait for a response, just disappeared into the loo.

As the door shut, V sat on the edge of the bed. "Talk to me."

"What kind of danger is she in?"

"I've taken care of her and three days in, she seems fine. She can probably leave soon. We're all pretty convinced by now there's no cross-infection thing going on."

"What's she been exposed to? What was I exposed to?"

"You know you were with the lessers, true?"

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Butch lifted one of his busted-up hands. "And here I thought I'd been to Elizabeth Arden."

"Smart-ass. You were there about a day-"

Abruptly, he grabbed V's arm. "I didn't crack. No matter what they did to me, I didn't say a thing about the Brotherhood. I swear."

V put his hand over Butch's and squeezed. "I know you didn't, my man. I know you wouldn't."

"Good."

As they both let go, V's eyes went to Butch's fingertips, as if he were imagining what had been done to them.

"What do you remember?"

"Only the feelings. The pain and the... dread. Fear. Pride... the pride is how I know I didn't squeal, how I know they didn't break me."

V nodded and drew a hand-rolled out of his pocket. Just before he lit up, he looked at the oxygen feed, cursed, and put the cig back. "Listen, buddy, I gotta ask... you okay in the head? I mean, going through something like that-"

"I'm cool. Always was too dumb to have PTSD or some shit, and besides, I've got no real memory of what went down. As long as Marissa can walk out of here okay, then, yeah, I'm fine." He scrubbed his face, feeling the itch of his beard growth, then dropped his arm. As his hand landed on his abdomen, he thought of the black wound. "You have any idea what they did to me?"

When V shook his head, Butch cursed. The guy was like a walking Google link, so him not knowing was a bad thing.

"But I'm on it, cop. I will find an answer for you, I promise." The brother nodded at Butch's stomach. "So how's it look?"

"Don't know. Been too busy being in a coma to worry about my six-pack."

"Mind if I?"

Butch shrugged and pushed the covers down. As V lifted up the hospital johnny, they both looked down at his belly. The skin was not right around the wound, all gray and puckered.

"Does it hurt?" V asked.

"Like a mother. Feels... cold. Like there's dry ice in my gut."

"Will you let me do something?"

"What?"

"Just a little healing thing I've been throwing at you."

"Sure." Except when V brought up his business hand and started talking off that glove, Butch recoiled. "What are you going to do with that thing?"

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"Trust me, true?"

Butch barked a laugh. "Last time you said that I ended up with a vampire cocktail, remember?"

"Saved your ass. That's how I found you."

So that had been the why of it. "Well, then, fly me some of that hand."

Still, as V put the glowing thing close, Butch winced.

"Relax, cop. This isn't going to hurt."

"I've seen you toast a house with that bastard."

"Point taken. But the Firestarter routine isn't going down here."

V hovered his tattooed, glowing hand over the wound, and Butch let out a ragged groan of relief. It was as if warm, fresh water was pouring into the wound, then flowing over him, through him. Cleaning him out.

Butch's eyes rolled back in his head. "Oh... God... that feels good."

He went limp, and then he was floating, free of the pain, sliding into some kind of dream state. He let his body go, let himself go.

He could actually feel the healing, as if his body's regenerative processes had kicked into high gear. As seconds passed, as minutes went by, as time drifted into the infinite, he felt like whole days of rest and eating well and being at peace were coming and going, leapfrogging him from the battered state he was in to the miraculous gift of health.

Marissa tilted her head back and stood right under the showerhead, letting the water fall down her body. She felt shaken loose and thin-skinned, especially after watching Vishous carry Butch to the bed. The two of them were so close, the mutual bond clear in the way their eyes met and held.

After a long while, she got out, toweled herself off roughly, then blew her hair dry. As she reached for a fresh

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