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Billy's past was perfect, and not just because of the violence he'd perpetrated on others. His father was just the kind of male role model Mr. X liked to see. A total, raving lunatic with a God complex. The man was a former NFL player, big, aggressive and competitive, and he'd ridden Billy since birth.

Nothing the son ever did was good enough. Mr. X's personal favorite was the story of Billy's mother's death. The woman had fallen into the pool after drinking too much one afternoon, and Billy had found her floating facedown. He'd pulled her out of the water and attempted CPR before calling 911. At the hospital, as the toe-tagged body had been wheeled to the morgue, the distinguished senator from the great state of New York had suggested his son had killed her. Evidently, Billy should have known to get an ambulance on the scene first rather than making a half-assed attempt to play paramedic himself.

Mr. X didn't question the merits of matricide. It was just that in Billy's case, the kid had been trained as a lifeguard and had actually tried to save the woman.

"I hate this house," Riddle muttered, staring up at the beautifully lit bricks and columns and shutters.

"Too bad you're on all those waiting lists. College would have gotten you out."

"Yeah, well, I might have gotten in to one or two. If he hadn't forced me to apply to only Ivies."

"So what are you going to do?"

Billy shrugged. "He wants me to move out. Get a job. It's just... I don't know where I can go."

"Tell me something, Billy, you got a girlfriend?"

He smiled, a little half pull at the corners of his lips. "I got a couple."

Yes, Mr. X could imagine the guy did, handsome as he was. "Someone special?"

Billy's eyes slid over. "They're good for getting off. But they're all over me. Calling and shit, wanting to know where I am, what I'm doing. They want too much, and I, ah..."

"You what?"

Billy's eyes narrowed.

"Go on, son. There's isn't anything you can't tell me."

"I, ah, I like them better when they're hard to get..." He cleared his throat. "Actually, I like it when they're trying to get away."

"You like to catch them?"

"I like to take them. You know what I mean?" Mr. X nodded, thinking that was one more vote in Riddle's favor. No ties to family. No ties to a girlfriend. And his sexual dysfunction would be taken care of during the induction ceremony.

Riddle grabbed for the door handle. "Anyway, thanks, sensei. This was really great."

"Billy."

Riddle paused, glancing back expectantly. "Yes, sensei?"

"What if you came to work for me?"

Riddle's eyes flared. "You mean at the academy?"

"Sort of. Let me tell you a little about what you would be doing and then you can think it over."

Chapter Thirty-seven

Beth rolled over, looking for Wrath, and then remembered that he'd gone upstairs.

She sat up, bracing herself in case the pain came back. When nothing hurt, she got to her feet. She was naked, and she looked down at her body. Everything seemed the same. She did a little jig. Seemed to work okay, too.

Except she couldn't see very well.

She went into the bathroom. Removed her contacts. And saw perfectly.

Well, there's one benefit.

Whoa. Fangs. She had fangs.

She leaned in, prodded them a little. Eating with those puppies was going to take some getting used to, she thought.

On impulse, she brought up her hands, turned her fingers into claws. Hissed.

Cool.

Halloween was going to be a real kick in the pants from now on.

She brushed out her hair, pulled on Wrath's robe, and headed for the stairs. When she got to the top, she wasn't breathless at all.

And wasn't this going to make her workouts a snap?

As she stepped out of the painting, she saw Butch sitting across the sofa from a stunning blonde. In the distance, she heard male voices and heavy music.

Butch looked up.

"Beth!" He rushed over, wrapping her in a bear hug. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Truly, I'm fine." Which was amazing, considering what she'd felt like earlier.

Butch pulled back, taking her face in his hands. He stared at her eyes. Frowned. "You don't look high."

"Why would I be?"

He shook his head sadly. "Don't hide it from me. I brought you here, remember?"

"I shall go," the blonde said, getting up.

Butch immediately turned to her. "No. Don't."

He went back to the couch. As he looked down at the woman, his expression was unlike any Beth had ever seen on his face. He was clearly enthralled.

"Marissa, I want you to meet my friend" - he emphasized the word - "Beth Randall. Beth, this is Marissa."

Beth lifted a hand. "Hello."

The blonde stared across the room, scrutinizing Beth from head to foot.

"You are Wrath's female," Marissa said with a kind of awe. As if Beth had pulled off some great feat. "The one he wants."

Beth felt her cheeks warm. "Ah, yeah. I guess I am."

There was an awkward silence. Butch looked back and forth between the two of them, frowning like he wanted in on the secret.

Yeah, well, Beth wanted to know what it was, too.

"Do you know where Wrath is?" she asked.

Butch scowled, as if he didn't want her near the man. "He's in the dining room."

"Thanks."

"Listen, Beth. We need to - "

"I'm not going anywhere."

He took a deep breath, blowing it out in a slow hiss.

"Somehow, I thought that's what you would say." He looked at the blonde. "But if you need me, I, ah... I'll be here."

She smiled to herself as Butch sat back down with the woman.

As she went out to the hall, the sound of men talking and the deep rumble of rap music got louder.

"So what'd you do to the lesser?" a male voice said.

"I lit his cigarette with a sawed-off," another one answered. "He didn't come down for breakfast, you feel me?"

There was a loud chorus of laughter. A couple of bangs, like heavy fists hitting a table.

She pulled the lapels of the robe closer together. It probably would've been smart to get dressed first, but she hadn't wanted to wait to see Wrath.

She rounded the corner.

The instant she appeared in the doorway, all talk ceased. Heads turned; eyes stared. Hard-core rap expanded to fill the silence, bass thumping, lyrics chanting.

My God. She'd never seen so many big men in leather before in her life.

She took a step backward just as Wrath shot to his feet from the head of the table. He came at her, looking intense. No doubt she'd interrupted some kind of sacred guy time.

She tried to think of something to say to him. He was probably going to want to play it cool in front of his brothers, do that whole I'm-a-tough-guy, this-broad-is-just-a -

Wrath wrapped his whole body around hers, putting his face in her hair.

"My leelan," he whispered in her ear. He ran his hands up and down her back. "My beautiful leelan."

He pulled away and kissed her on the lips. His smile was tender as he smoothed her hair.

Beth grinned. Evidently, her man didn't have a problem with public displays of affection. Good to know.

She tilted her head, looking around his shoulder.

And they were definitely in public. The men were gaping. Positively gaping.

She nearly laughed. Seeing a bunch of guys who looked like violent offenders sitting around a table set with silver and china was incongruous enough. But having them be so totally flabbergasted seemed downright absurd.

"You want to introduce me?" she said, nodding at the group.

Wrath put his arm around her shoulders, tucking her against him.

"This is the Black Dagger Brotherhood. My fellow warriors. My brothers." He nodded to the blindingly handsome one. "Rhage, you know. Tohr also. The one with the goatee and the Sox hat is Vishous. The Rapunzel over there is Phury." Wrath's voice dropped to a snarl. "And Zsadist has already introduced himself."

The two she'd spent some time with smiled at her. The others nodded, except for the scarred one. He just stared.

That guy had a twin, she recalled. But she'd have been hard-pressed to pick out his real brother.

Though the one with the absolutely delicious hair and the fantastic yellow eyes did look a little like him.

"Gentlemen," Wrath said. "This is Beth."

And then he switched over to that language she didn't understand.


Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy