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Z felt Phury's whole body go limp. "Oh... Jesus."

"Don't know how it'll work out, though. My instincts... they've been honed for anger, you know. I'm probably always going to be a quick trigger."

"Oh, Jesus..."

"But you know, maybe I could work on that. Or something. Fuck, I don't know. Probably not."

"Oh... Jesus. I'll help you. Any way I can."

Z shook his head. "No. I don't want help. I need to do this myself."

They were quiet for a time. "My arm's falling asleep," Z said. Phury lifted his head and Zsadist took the limb back, but he didn't move away.

Right before Bella left, she went to the room Zsadist had been given. She'd been delaying her departure for days, telling herself it wasn't because she was waiting for him to come around. Which was a lie.

The door was slightly ajar, so she knocked on the jamb. She wondered what he would say when she just walked right in. Probably nothing.

"Come in," a female said.

Bella stepped into the room. The bed was empty, and a splintered tree of monitoring equipment was lying on its side as if it were dead. A nurse was picking pieces of it off the floor and putting them into a trash can. Clearly Zsadist was up and around.

The nurse smiled. "Are you looking for him? He's next door with his brother."

"Thank you."

Bella went one room farther down and knocked quietly. When there was no response, she went inside.

The two of them were lying back-to-back, so tightly against each other it was as if their spines were fused. Their arms and legs were curled up in identical positions, their chins tucked into their chests. She imagined them in their mother's womb like that, resting together, innocent of all the horrors that waited for them on the outside.

Odd to think her blood was in both of them. It was her only legacy to the pair, the only thing she was leaving behind.

Without warning Zsadist's eyes flipped open. The yellow-gold glow was such a surprise, she jumped.

"Bella..." He reached for her. "Bella - "

She took a step back. "I came to say good-bye."

As he dropped his hand, she had to look away.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "Somewhere safe?"

"Yes." She was heading down the coast, to Charleston in South Carolina, to extended family who were more than happy to take her in. "It's going to be a new start for me. A new life."

"Good. This is good."

She closed her eyes. Just once... just once she would have liked to hear some regret in his voice while she was leaving. Then again, as this was their last good-bye, at least she wouldn't have to be disappointed anymore.

"You were so brave," he said. "I owe you my life. His, too. You are so... brave."

The hell she was. She was about to break down completely. "I hope you and Phury heal up fast. Yeah, I hope..."

There was a long silence. Then she took one last look at Zsadist's face. She knew then that even if she mated somewhere down the line, no male would ever take his place.

And as unromantic as it sounded, that just plain sucked. Sure, she was supposed to triumph over loss and all that. But she loved him and she wasn't going to end up with him, and all she wanted to do was get in a bed somewhere, turn the lights off, and just lie there. For, like, a century.

"I need you to know something," she said. "You told me that someday I would wake up and regret being with you. Well, I do. But not because of what the glymera would say." She crossed her arms over her chest. "After having been burned by high society once, I'm no longer afraid of the aristocracy, and I would have been proud... to stand at your side. But yes, I am sorry I was with you."

Because leaving him was a shattering blow. Worse than everything she'd gone through with the lesser.

All things considered, it would have been better not to know what she was missing.

Without another word she turned and left the room.

As dawn creeped over the landscape, Butch walked into the Pit, took off his coat, and sat down on the leather sofa. SportsCenter was on mute. Kanye West's Late Registration was on surround sound.

V appeared in the kitchen's doorway, clearly just in from a night of fighting: He was shirtless and sporting a shiner, still in his leathers and shitkickers.

"How you doing?" Butch asked, eyeing another black-and-blue that was popping up on his roommate's shoulder.

"No better than you. You look beat, cop."

"For real." He let his head fall back. Watching over Z had seemed like the thing to do while the other Brothers had been out doing their job. But he was exhausted, even though all he'd done was park it in a chair for three days straight.

"I've got something to perk you up. Here."

Butch shook his head as a wineglass appeared in front of his face. "You know I don't drink red."

"Try it."

"Nah, I need a shower and then something with a little more bite in it." Butch planted his hands into his knees and started to get up.

Vishous stepped in the way. "You need this. Trust me."

Butch let his ass sink back down as he took the glass. He sniffed at the wine. Drank some. "Not bad. Little thick, but not bad. Is this a merlot?"

"Not really."

He tilted his head back and swallowed seriously. The wine was strong, burning its way to his stomach, making him a little light-headed. Which made him wonder when the last time he'd eaten had been.

As he sucked back the last inch, he frowned. Vishous was watching him far too closely.

"V? Something wrong?" He put the glass on a table and cocked an eyebrow.

"No... no, everything's cool. Everything's going to be cool now."

Butch thought about his roommate's troubles of late. "Hey, I meant to ask about your visions. They still gone?"

"Well, I had one about ten minutes ago. So maybe they're back."

"That'd be good. I don't like to see you all freaked out."

"You're all right, cop. You know that?" Vishous smiled and pushed a hand through his hair. As his arm dropped, Butch caught sight of the Brother's wrist. On the inside of it there was a fresh red cut. Like, one that had been made minutes ago.

Butch looked at the wineglass. A horrible suspicion carried his eyes to his roommate's drinking point again.

"Jesus... Christ. V, what... what did you do?" He shot to his feet just as the first spasm overtook his stomach. "Oh, God... Vishous."

He ran for his toilet to throw up, but he didn't make it that far. As soon as he flew into his room V tackled him from behind, taking him down onto the bed. When he started to gag, Vishous flipped him over onto his back and pushed the heel of his hand up against Butch's chin, keeping his mouth shut.

"Don't fight it," V said roughly. "Keep it down. You need to keep it down."

Butch's gut heaved and he choked on the shit that shot up into his throat. Panicked, nauseated, unable to breathe, he shoved against the heavy body that straddled him and managed to knock Vishous off to the side. But before he could get free, V grabbed him from behind and forced his jaw shut again.

"Keep... it... down..." V groaned as they straggled on the bed.

Butch felt a thick leg come around and trap his thighs. The wrestling move worked. He couldn't move. He fought anyway.

The spasms and the nausea intensified until he thought his eyes were going to burst. Then there was an explosion in his gut, and sparks started flowing throughout his body... sparks that lit off a tingling... now a hum. He fell still, the fight going out of him as he absorbed the sensations.

V's hold eased up and he took his hand away, though he kept an arm around Butch's chest. "That's right... Just breathe through it. You're doing fine."

The hum was rising now, turning into something like sex, but not really... No, it definitely wasn't anything erotic, but his body didn't know the difference. He hardened, the erection pushing against his slacks, his body suddenly raging with heat. He arched back, a moan coming out of his mouth.

"That's right," V said into his ear. "Don't fight it. Let it wash through you."

Butch's hips swiveled of their own accord, and he moaned again. He was hot as the center of the sun, his skin hypersensitive, his vision gone... And then the roaring in his gut shifted up to his heart. In a flash all his veins lit up like they had gasoline in them, the whole inside of him becoming a network of fire, growing hotter and hotter. Sweat poured off him as his body gyrated and jerked, and he threw his head back against Vishous's shoulder. Hoarse sounds broke out of his mouth.


Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy