cleared his throat. "But V, I can't sit here and just wait this out. I want to go on the offensive. What say we pick up a few lessers and work them over, get them to do some talking for a change."
"Hard-core, cop."
"You get a look at what they did to me? You think I'm worried about the frickin' Geneva Convention?"
"Lemme talk to Wrath first."
"Do it soon."
"Today."
"Good deal." There was another long silence. "So... you got some tube in this place?"
"Flat screen's up on the wall to the left of the bed. Remote's... I don't know where it is. I don't usually... yeah, TV's not on my mind when I'm there."
"V, man, what is this setup?"
"Pretty self-explanatory, don't you think?"
There was a little chuckle. "I guess this was what Phury was talking about, huh?"
"When he said what?"
"That you were into some kinky shit."
V had a sudden vision of Butch on top of Marissa, the male's body surging while she gripped his ass with her beautiful hands.
Then he saw Butch's head lift up and heard in his mind the hoarse, erotic moan that broke free of his roommate's lips.
Despising himself, Vishous hammered a shot of vodka and quickly poured another. "My sex life is private, Butch. So are my... unconventional interests."
"I hear ya. No one's biz but yours. One question, though."
"What."
Page 111
J R Ward: Lover Revealed
"When the females tie you down, do they paint your toenails and shit? Or just do your makeup?" As V
laughed in a loud crack, the cop said, "Wait... they tickle your pits with a feather, right?"
"Smart-ass."
"Hey, I'm just curious." Butch's own laughter faded. "Do you hurt them, though? I mean..."
More with the vodka. "It's all about consent. And I don't cross the line."
"Good. Little freaky for my Catholic ass, granted... 'cept, hey, it's whatever gets you off."
V swirled the Goose around in his glass. "So, cop, mind if I ask you something?"
"Fair's fair."
"Do you love her?"
After a while, Butch muttered, "Yeah. Fuck me, but yeah."
As the laptop's screen saver came on, V put his fingertip on the mouse square and interrupted the metastasizing pipes. "What's that feel like?"
There was a grunt as if Butch were rearranging himself and was stiff as a board. "Hell, right at this moment."
V played with the arrow on the screen, making it whip around the desktop. "You know... I like her with you.
The two of you make sense to me."
"Except for the fact that I'm a blue-collar human who could be part lesser, I'd say I agree with you."
"You're not turning into a-"
"I took some of that slayer in me tonight. When I inhaled. I think that's why I smelled like one afterward. Not because we'd been fighting, but because some of the evil was-is-in me again."
V cursed, hoping like hell that wasn't the case. "We're going to figure this out, cop. I'm not going to leave you in the dark."
They hung up a little later and V stared at the laptop while swirling the arrow around. He kept up the forefinger workout until he became thoroughly unimpressed with the time he was wasting.
As he stretched his arms over his head, he realized that the cursor had landed on recycle bin. Recycle...
Recycle... to reprocess in order to use again.
What was it with Butch and the inhale thing? Now that V thought about it, when he'd pulled that lesser off the cop, he'd been aware he was breaking some kind of connection between them.
Restless, he took his Goose and glass and went over to the couches. As he sat down and swallowed some more, he looked at the pint of Lag that was on the coffee table.
V leaned forward and grabbed the Scotch. Unscrewing it, he lifted it to his lips and took a slug. Then he brought the Lag to the lip of his glass of vodka and poured. With low-lidded eyes, he watched the swirling Page 112
J R Ward: Lover Revealed
combination, seeing the two blend, the vodka and the Scotch both diluted of their pure essence and yet stronger together.
V brought the combo to his lips, tilted his head back, and swallowed the whole damn thing. Then he eased back into the couch.
He was tired... way fucking tired... ti-
Sleep came to him so fast it was like getting slammed in the head. But the shut-eye didn't last long. The Dream, as he was coming to think of it, woke him up minutes later with its characteristic violence: He came to on a scream with a splitting feeling in his chest,