hands together. «This isn't the place.»
«So let's go home.»
«No fucking way. I'm going to be trapped there all day long.» V lifted his hand. When the
waitress came over, he put a hundred on her tray. «Keep the Goose coming, true? And that's just
for the tip.»
She smiled. «My pleasure.»
As she took off for the bar like she was on roller skates, V's eyes sifted through the VIP area, his
brows down low. Shit, he wasn't checking out the crowd. He was trolling for a fight. And was it
possible that the brother was… glowing a little?
Phury looked to the left and tapped his ear twice, sending a request to one of the Moors that
guarded a private door. The security guard nodded and spoke into a wristwatch.
Moments later a huge male with a cropped mohawk came out. Rehvenge was dressed in a
perfectly tailored black suit and had a black cane in his right hand. As he came slowly over to the
Brotherhood's table, his patrons parted before him, partly out of respect for his size, partly out of
fear from his reputation. Everyone knew who he was and what he was capable of: Rehv was the
kind of drug lord who took a personal interest in his livelihood. You crossed him and you turned
up diced like something off the Food Channel.
Zsadist's half-breed brother-in-law was proving to be a surprising ally for the Brotherhood,
although Rehv's true nature complicated everything. It wasn't smart to get in bed with a
symphath. Literally or figuratively. So he was an uneasy friend and relative.
His tight smile barely showed any fangs. «Evening, gentlemen.»
«Mind if we use your office for a little private biz?» Phury asked.
«I'm not talking,» V ground out as his drink arrived. With a flip of the wrist he tossed the thing
back like he had a fire in his gut and the shit was water. «Not. Talking.»
Phury and Butch locked eyes, and a perfect accord was met: Vishous was so going to convo.
«Your office?» Phury said to Rehvenge.
Rehv lifted an elegant eyebrow, his amethyst eyes shrewd. «Not sure you'd want to use it. The
place is wired for sound, and every syllable goes on record. Unless… of course… I'm in there.»
Not ideal, but anything that hurt the Brotherhood hurt Rehv's sister, as Z's mate. So even though
the guy was part symphath, he had the motivation to be tight about whatever went down.
Phury slid out of the booth and stared at V. «Bring your drink.»
«No.»
Butch got up. «Then you're leaving it. Because if you won't go home, we talk here.»
V's eyes gleamed. And they weren't the only thing. «Fuck-«
Butch leaned down onto the table. «Right now you're throwing off an aura like your ass is
plugged into the wall. So I strongly encourage you to drop the I-am-an-island bullshit and get
your sorry excuse for a personality into Rehv's office before we have a situation. Dig?»
There was a long stretch of nothing but V and Butch looking at each other. Then V got to his feet
and headed for Rehv's office. On the way, his anger carried a toxic chemical smell, the kind that
stung your nose raw.
Man, the cop was the only one who had a chance with V when the male was like this.
So thank God for the Irishman.
The group of them went through the door guarded by the pair of Moors and took up res in
Rehvenge's cave of an office. As the door shut, Rehv went behind his desk, reached under it, and
a beeping sound went off.
«We're clear,» he said, lowering himself into a black leather chair.
They all stared at V… who promptly went zoo animal, all pacing around and looking like he
wanted to eat someone. The brother finally stopped across the room from Butch. The recessed
light above him wasn't as bright as what was shining under his skin.
«Talk to me,» Butch murmured.
Without saying a word, V took something out of his back pocket. As his arm came forward, a
heavy gold pendant swung on the end of a silken cord.
«Seems I got a new job.»
«Oh… shit,» Phury whispered.
The setup in Blay's bedroom was SOP for John and his buddies: John was on the foot of the bed.
Blay was cross-legged on the floor. Qhuinn was in full lounge, his new body hanging half on,
half off a beanbag chair. Coronas were open, and bags of Doritos and Ruffles were being passed
around.
«Okay, so spill,» Blay said. «What was your transition like?»
«Screw the change, I got laid.» As Blay and John both bug-eyed, Qhuinn chuckled. «Yeah. I did.
Got my cherry popped, so to speak.»
«Get. The. Fuck. Out,» Blay breathed.
«For
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