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"Marissa, talk to me."
Where to start. "I am... ah, I am in need of a place to stay. I have nowhere to go. I have been cast out. I am - "
"Wait, slow down. Just slow down. What happened?"
Marissa took a deep breath and gave a condensed version of the story, one that avoided any mention of Butch. The words ran out of her like dirty water, spilling onto the brilliant mosaic floor, staining the beauty beneath her feet. The shame of the recounting stung her throat.
"So you will stay with us," Beth pronounced when it was over.
"Just the one night."
"For however long you want." Beth squeezed Marissa's hand. "However. Long."
As Marissa shut her eyes and tried not to break down, she became dimly aware of a pounding sound, of heavy boots descending carpeted stairs.
Then Wrath's deep voice filled the cavernous three-story foyer. "What the hell's going on?"
"Marissa is moving in with us."
While Marissa dropped into another curtsy, she was totally stripped of her pride, as vulnerable as if she were naked. To have nothing and throw yourself on the mercy of others was a strange kind of terror.
"Marissa, look at me."
Wrath's hard tone was utterly familiar, the one he'd always used with her, the one that had made her cringe for three centuries. In desperation, she eyed the open door to the vestibule even though she was by now officially out of time.
The wooden panels slammed shut as if the king had willed it so. "Marissa, talk."
"Back off, Wrath," the queen snapped. "She's been through too much tonight already. Havers threw her out."
"What? Why?"
Beth made quick work of the story, and hearing it from a third party only increased Marissa's humiliation. As her vision blurred, she struggled not to lose it.
And the battle was lost when Wrath said, "Jesus Christ, that idiot. Of course she stays here."
With a shaking hand, she brushed under both eyes, capturing her tears and quickly rubbing them away between her fingertips.
"Marissa? Look at me."
She lifted her head. God, Wrath was just the same, his face too cruel to be truly handsome, those wraparound sunglasses making him look even more intimidating. Absently, she noted that his hair was much longer than when she'd known him, down nearly to the small of his back.
"I'm glad you came to us."
She cleared her throat. "I would be grateful for a short tenure here."
"Where are your things?"
"They're all packed up at my house - er, my brother's - I mean, Havers's house. I came back from the Princeps Council and everything I own was in boxes. But it can remain there until I figure out - "
"Fritz!" When the doggen came running in, Wrath said, "Go to Havers's and pick up her stuff. You better take the van and an extra set of arms."
Fritz bowed and took off, moving faster than you would think an old doggen could.
Marissa tried to find words. "I - I - "
"I'm going to show you to your room," Beth said. "You look like you're about to collapse."
The queen took Marissa over to the grand staircase, and as they went, Marissa glanced over her shoulder. Wrath had an utterly ruthless expression on his face, his jaw set like concrete.
She had to stop. "Are you sure?" she asked him.
His glower got worse. "That brother of yours has a real knack for pissing me off."
"I don't mean to inconvenience you - "
Wrath rolled right over her words. "This was about Butch, wasn't it. V told me that you went to the cop and pulled him through. Let me guess - Havers didn't appreciate you getting too tight with our human, right?"
Marissa could only nod.
"Like I said, your brother really pisses me off. Butch is our boy even if he isn't in the Brotherhood and anyone who cares for him cares for us. So you take up residence here for the rest of your natural goddamned life as far as I'm concerned." Wrath headed around the base of the stairs. "Fucking Havers. Fucking idiot. I'll go find V and let him know you're here. Butch isn't around, but V'll know where to find him."
"Oh - no, you don't have to - "
Wrath didn't stop, didn't even hesitate, reminding her that you didn't tell the king to do anything. Even if it was not to worry about something.
"Well," Beth murmured, "at least he's not armed right now."
"I'm surprised he cares this much."
"Are you kidding? It's appalling. To turn you out right before dawn? Anyway, let's get you settled."
Marissa resisted the female's gentle pull. "You welcome me so graciously. How can you be so - "
"Marissa." Beth's navy blue eyes were level. "You saved the man I love. When he was shot and my blood wasn't strong enough, you kept him alive by giving him your wrist. So let's be perfectly clear. There is absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for you."
As dawn arrived and light poured into the penthouse, Butch woke up fully aroused and in the process of grinding his hips into a twist of satin sheets. He was covered with sweat, his skin hypersensitized, his erection pulsing.
Groggy, confused as to what was reality and what he just hoped was real, he reached downward. Undid his belt. Burrowed through his slacks and his boxers.
Images of Marissa swirled in his head, half the fantasy he'd been so gloriously lost in, half memories of the feel of her. He fell into a rhythm with his hand, unsure whether he was the one who was doing the stroking... Maybe it was her... God, he wanted it to be her.
He closed his eyes and arched his back. Oh, yeah. So good.
Except then he woke up.
As he realized what he was doing, he became vicious. Angry with himself and so much of what was going on, he handled his sex roughly until he barked a curse and ejaculated. He couldn't even call it an orgasm. More like his c**k swore out loud.
With sickening dread, he braced himself and looked down at his hand.
Then just sagged from relief. At least something was back to normal.
After kicking out of his trousers and wiping up with the boxers, he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Under the spray, all he could think about was Marissa. He missed her with a stinging hunger, a kind of craving pain that reminded him of when he'd quit smoking the year before.
And shit, no Nicoderm for this.
When he came out of the bath with a towel around his hips, his new cell phone was ringing. He fumbled around the pillows and finally found the thing.
"Yeah, V?" he rasped. Man, his voice was always shot to shit in the morning and today was no different. He sounded like a car engine that wouldn't turn over.
Okay, so that was two normals in his favor.
"Marissa's moved in."
"What?" He sank down onto the mattress. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Havers kicked her out."
"Because of me?"
"Yup."
"That bastard - "
"She's here in the compound, so you don't worry about her safety. But she's rattled as hell." There was a long silence. "Cop? You there, my man?"
"Yeah." Butch fell back on the bed. Realized his thigh muscles were twitching with the need to get to her.
"So like I said, she's okay. You want me to bring her to you tonight?"
Butch put his hand up to his eyes. The idea that someone had hurt her in any way made him positively mental. To the point of violence.
"Butch? Hello?"
As Marissa settled into a canopied bed, she pulled the covers up to her neck and wished she weren't naked. Trouble was, she had no clothes.
God, even though no one would bother her here, being bare just... felt wrong. Scandalous, though no one would ever know.
She glanced around. The room she'd been given was lovely, done in a delphinium blue toile, with the pastoral scene of a lady and a kneeling suitor repeated on the walls, the drapes, the bedcovers, the chair.
Not exactly what she wanted to look at. The two French lovers crowded her, striking her as not visual but audible, a chaotic staccato of what she didn't have with Butch. Wouldn't ever have with Butch.
To solve the problem, she turned off the light and closed her eyes. And the ocular version of earplugs worked like a charm.
Dear Virgin, what a mess. And she had to wonder in what manner things were going to get worse. Fritz and two other doggen had gone over to her brother's - to Havers's - and she half expected them to come back with nothing. Maybe Havers would decide to just get rid of her things in the meantime. Like he'd done with her.
