and resumed stroking his hair. "I swear to you, if I had known it was him, I would have dragged myself out of bed to answer that door myself."
In a low voice Vishous murmured, "Good deal, female. Good... deal."
In the silence that followed, she thought about the events of the previous summer. The convalescence she'd taken hadn't been just about the flu. She'd been overwhelmed by her brother's attempt on Wrath's life-by the fact that Havers, ever the calm, even-tempered healer, had gone so far as to betray the king's location to a lesser. Sure, Havers had done it to ahvenge her because of the way she had been cast aside for the queen, but that in no way excused the actions.
Dear Virgin in the Fade, Butch had tried to see her, but why hadn't she been told?
"I never knew you came," she murmured, smoothing his hair back.
Vishous removed his hand, and yanked up the sheet. "Close your eyes, Marissa. It's your turn."
She looked up. "I didn't know."
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"I believe you. Now close."
After he had healed her, V walked over to the door, his big shoulders rolling with his gait.
At the air lock, he looked back over his shoulder. "Don't think I was the only reason he healed. You're his light, Marissa. Don't ever forget that." The Brother's eyes narrowed. "But here's something to keep in mind.
You ever hurt him on purpose and I will consider you my enemy."
John Matthew sat in a classroom that was right out of Caldwell High School. There were seven long tables facing the blackboard, and all but one had a pair of trainees plugged into them.
John was alone in the back. Which was also just as it had been at CHS.
The difference between this class and the stuff he'd taken in school, though, was that now he took careful notes and stared up front like the chalkboard was running a Die Hard marathon.
Then again, geometry wasn't ever the subject on deck around here.
This afternoon, Zsadist was at the head of the class, pacing back and forth, talking about the chemical composition of C4 plastic explosives. The Brother was wearing one of his trademark black turtlenecks and a pair of loose nylon track pants. With that scar down his face, he looked exactly like he'd done what people said he had: killed females, desecrated lessers, attacked even his Brothers without provocation.
But the strange thing was, he was a helluva teacher.
"Now for detonators," he said. "Personally, I prefer the remote variety."
As John turned over a fresh page in his notebook, Z sketched a 3-D mechanism on the board, some kind of box with wiring circuits. Whenever the Brother drew, what he put up was so detailed and realistic you could almost reach out and touch the thing.
When there was a lull, John checked his watch. Another fifteen minutes, then it was time to have a light meal and hit the gym. He couldn't wait.
When he'd started school here, he'd hated the mixed martial arts training. Now he loved it. He was still last in the class in terms of technical skills, but lately he'd more than made up for that in rage. And his aggression had caused a realignment in social dynamics.
Back in the beginning, three months ago, his classmates had ridiculed him. Accused him of sucking up to the Brothers. Derided him for his birthmark because it looked like the pectoral star scar of the Brotherhood. Now the other guys watched it around him. Well, everyone except for Lash. Lash still rode him, singling him out, cutting him down.
Not that John cared. He might be in this class with the rest of the trainees, he might technically be living in the compound with the Brothers, he might supposedly be linked to the Brotherhood by the blood of his father, but ever since he'd lost Tohr and Wellsie, he was a free agent so far as he was concerned. Bound to no one.
So the other folks in this room were nothing to him.
He shifted his stare to the back of Lash's head. The guy's long blond hair was in a ponytail that rested Page 69
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smoothly down a jacket made by some fancy designer. And how did John know about the designer thing?
Because Lash always told everyone what he was wearing when he walked in for class.
Had also mentioned tonight that his new watch was iced out by Jacob the Jeweler.
John narrowed his eyes, getting juiced up just thinking