still can't believe this.»
«Just open the damn thing.»
«I really can't-«
«Open. It.» At this point, V was twitchy enough to levitate out of his frickin' chair.
The cop triggered the solid-gold lock mechanism and lifted the top. Lying on a bed of red satin
were four matching black-bladed daggers, each precisely weighted to Butch's specs and honed to
a lethal edge.
«Holy Mary, Mother of God… They're beautiful.»
«Thanks,» V said on an exhale. «I make good bread, too.»
The cop's hazel eyes shot across the room. «You did these for me?»
«Yeah, but it's no big thing. I do them for all of us.» V lifted up his gloved right hand. «I'm good
with heat, as you know.»
«V… thank you.»
«Whatever. Like I said, I'm the blade man. Do it all the time.»
Yeah… just maybe not with quite as much focus. For Butch, he'd spent the past four days
straight on them. The sixteen-hour marathons working his cursed glowing hand over the
composite steel had made his back burn and his eyes strain, but goddamn it, he'd been
determined to get each one worthy of the male who would wield them.
They still weren't good enough.
The cop took one of the daggers out, and as he palmed it his eyes flared. «Jesus… feel this
thing.» He began working the weapon back and forth in front of his chest. «Never held anything
so well weighted. And the grip. God… perfect.»
The praise pleased V more than any he'd ever received.
So it irritated the shit out of him.
«Yeah, well, they're supposed to be like that, true?» He stabbed the hand-rolled out in an ashtray,
crushing the fragile glow at its tip. «No sense you going out in the field with a set of Ginsus.»
«Thank you.»
«Whatever.»
«V, seriously-«
«Make that fuck you.» When there was no slappy comeback, he looked up.
Shit. Butch was standing right in front of him, the cop's hazel eyes dark with a knowledge V
wished the guy didn't have.
V dropped his stare to his lighter. «Whatever, cop, they're just knives.»
The black tip of the dagger slid under V's chin and angled his head up. As he was forced to meet
Butch's stare, V's body tensed. Then trembled.
With the weapon linking them, Butch said, «They're beautiful.»
V closed his eyes, despising himself. Then he deliberately leaned into the blade so that it bit into
his throat. Swallowing the flare of pain, he held it in his gut, using it as a reminder that he was a
fucked-up freak, and freaks deserved to get hurt.
«Vishous, look at me.»
«Leave me alone.»
«Make me.»
For a split second V almost launched himself at the guy, prepared to punch the bastard out cold.
But then Butch said, «I'm just thanking you for doing something cool. No BFD.»
No big fucking deal? V's eyes flipped open and he felt his stare glow. «That's bullshit. For
reasons you are very fucking aware of.»
Butch removed the blade, and as the male's arm dropped, V felt a trickle of blood ease down his
neck. It was warm… and soft as a kiss.
«Don't say you're sorry,» V muttered into the silence. «I'm liable to get violent.»
«But I am.»
«Nothing to be sorry for.» Man, he couldn't take living here with Butch anymore. Make that
Butch and Marissa. The constant reminder of what he couldn't have and shouldn't want was
killing him. And Christ knew he was already in bad shape. When was the last time he'd slept
through the day? Weeks and weeks.
Butch sheathed the blade in the chest holster, handle down. «I don't want you to hurt-«
«We are so not discussing this further.» Putting his forefinger to his throat, V caught the blood
he'd drawn with the blade he'd made. As he licked it off, the hidden door to the underground
tunnel opened and the scent of the ocean filled the Pit.
Marissa came around the corner, looking Grace Kelly-fine as usual. With her long blond hair and
her precision-molded face, she was known as the great beauty of the species, and even V, who
didn't go for her type, had to show love.
«Hello, boys-« Marissa stopped and stared at Butch. «Good… Lord… look at those pants.»
Butch winced. «Yeah, I know. They're-«
«Could you come over here?» She started backing down the hall to their bedroom. «I need you to
come back here for a minute. Or ten.»
Butch's bonding scent flared to a dull roar, and V knew damn well the guy's body was hardening
for sex. «Baby, you can have me for as long as you want me.»
Just as the cop left the living room, he shot a look over his shoulder. «I'm so feeling these
leathers. Tell Fritz I want fifty pairs of them. Stat.»
Left by himself, Vishous leaned
| <<Previous page | |
Next page>> |