Marissa got out of the Mercedes then ducked back in. "Will you please wait, Fritz? I want to go to the rental house after this."
"Of course, mistress."
She turned and looked at the back entrance of Havers's clinic, wondering whether he would even let her in.
"Marissa."
She turned around. "Oh, God... Butch." She ran over to the Escalade. "I'm so glad you called me. Are you okay? Are they?"
"Yeah. They're getting checked out."
"And you?"
"Fine. Just fine. I figured I'd wait outside, though, because... you know."
Yes, Havers wouldn't be too happy to see him. Probably wasn't going to like running into her, either.
Marissa glanced toward the clinic's back entrance. "The mother and child... they can't go home after this, can they?"
"No way. The lessers know about the house, so it isn't safe. And frankly, there wasn't much there anyway."
"What about the mother's hellren?"
"He's been... taken care of."
God, she shouldn't feel relieved that there had been a death, but she was. At least until she thought of Butch in the field.
"I love you," she blurted. "That's why I don't want to have you fighting. If I lost you for any reason, my life would be over."
His eyes widened, and she realized they hadn't spoken of love for what seemed like forever. But she was rule number one-ing this. She'd hated spending the daylight hours away from him, hated the distance between them, and she wasn't letting it go on anymore on her side.
Butch stepped in close, his hands going to her face. "Christ, Marissa... you don't know what it means to hear you say that. I need to know that. Need to feel that."
He kissed her softly, whispering loving things against her mouth, and as she trembled, he held her with care. There were things still left awkwardly between them, but none of that mattered at the moment. She just needed to reconnect with him.
When he pulled back a little, she said, "I'm going to go inside, but will you wait? I'd like to show you my new house."
He ran his fingertip lightly down her cheek. Though his eyes grew sad, he said, "Yeah, I'll wait. And I would love to see where you're going to live."
"I won't be long."
She kissed him again and then headed off to the clinic entrance. As she felt like an intruder, it was a surprise to be admitted inside without a fuss, but she knew that didn't mean things were going to go smoothly. While she rode down in the elevator, she fiddled with her hair. She was nervous about seeing Havers. Would there be a scene?
When she walked into the waiting area, the nursing staff knew exactly what she'd come for and she was taken down to a patient room. She knocked on the door and stiffened.
Havers looked up from talking with the young in the cast and his face froze. As he seemed to lose track of the words he was speaking, he pushed up his glasses, then cleared his throat with a cough.
"You came!" the young called out to Marissa.
"Hi, there," she said, lifting her hand.
"If you'll excuse me," Havers murmured to the mother, "I'll get your discharge papers in order. But as I said, there's no hurry for you to leave."
Marissa stared at her brother as he came up to her, wondering whether he would even acknowledge her presence. And he did in a manner of speaking. His glance flicked over the pants she had on and he winced.
"Marissa."
"Havers."
"You look... well."
Nice enough words. But what he meant was she looked different. And he didn't approve. "I am well."
"If you'll excuse me."
As he left without waiting for a response, anger boiled up into her throat, but she didn't let the nasty words on her tongue fly. Instead, she went to the bedside and sat down. While she took the little female's hand, she tried to figure out what to say, but the young's singsong voice got there first.
"My father is dead," the child said factually. "My mahmen is scared. And we have nowhere to sleep if we leave here."
Marissa closed her eyes briefly, thanking the dear Scribe Virgin that at least she had an answer for one of those problems.
She looked over at the mother. "I know exactly where you should go. And I'm going to take you there soon."
The mother started to shake her head. "We have no money¡ª"
"But I can pay rent," the young said, holding her tattered tiger. She loosened the stitching on the back, dug her hand in and took out the wishing plate. "This is gold, right? So it's money... right?"
Marissa breathed in deeply and told herself not to cry. "No, that's a gift to you from me. And there is no rent to be paid. I have an empty home and it needs people to fill it." She glanced once again at the mother. "I would love it if you two would stay there with me as soon as my new house is ready."
When John finally went back to the locker room after his meltdown, he was all alone. Wrath had returned to the main house, Lash had been taken away to the clinic, and the other guys had gone home.
Which was good. In the resounding quiet, he took the longest shower of his life, just stood under the hot spray, letting the water run down him. His body felt achy. Sick.
Jesus Christ. Had he really bitten the king? Beaten a classmate?
John eased back against the tile. In spite of all the spray washing over him and the soap he'd used, nothing cleaned him off. He still seemed curiously... dirty. But then, disgrace and shame did make you feel like you were covered in pig shit.
Cursing, he looked down at the sparse muscles of his chest and the sunken pit of his stomach and the pointy knobs of his hips, looked past his utterly unimpressive sex to his little feet. Then followed the tile to the drain where Lash's blood had funneled out.
He could have killed the guy, he realized. He'd been that out of control.
"John?"
He jerked his head up. Zsadist was standing in the shower's entryway, his face utterly impassive.
"You finish, you come up to the main house. We'll be in Wrath's study."
John nodded and turned the water off. Chances were very good that he was going to be kicked out of the training program. Maybe out of the house. And he couldn't blame them. But God, where would he go?
After Z left, John toweled dry, put his clothes on, and went across the hall to Tohr's office. He had to keep his eyes down as he passed through on his way to the tunnel. He couldn't bear any of his memories of Tohrment right now. Not a single one.
Couple minutes later he was in the mansion's foyer, staring up at the grand staircase. He climbed the red-carpeted steps slowly, feeling unbearably tired, and the exhaustion grew worse when he got to the top: The double doors to Wrath's study were open and voices spilled out, the king's and others'. How he would miss them all, he thought.
The first thing he noticed when he stepped into the room was Tohr's chair. The ugly green monster had been moved and was now behind and to the left of the throne. Odd.
John walked forward and waited to be acknowledged.
Wrath was bent over a fancy little desk piled with papers, a magnifying glass in his hand apparently helping him to read. Z and Phury were flanking the king, one on either side, both leaning over the map Wrath was looking at.
"This is where we found the first torture camp," Phury said, pointing to a big green stretch. "Here's where Butch was found. Here's where I was taken."
"Big spread between them all," Wrath muttered. "Lot of miles."
"What we need is an airplane," Z said. "Aerial review would be much more efficient."
"True that." Except Wrath shook his head. "But we'd have to watch it. Get too close to the ground and the FAA would crawl up our ass."
John inched a little closer to the desk. Craned his neck.
In a smooth move, Wrath pushed the big sheet of paper forward as if he'd finished reviewing it. Or maybe... was encouraging John to take a peek. Except instead of staring at the topographical spread, John looked at the king's forearm. The bite mark on that thick wrist mortified him and he stepped back.
Just as Beth walked in with a leather box of scrolls tied with red ribbons.
"Okay, Wrath, how about some briefing time. I've prioritized all these."
Wrath leaned back as Beth put the box down. Then the king captured her face, kissing her on the mouth as well as both sides of her throat. "Thanks, leelan. Right now's great, although V and Butch are coming by with Marissa. Oh shit, did I tell you the Princeps Council has a bright idea? Mandatory sehclusion for all unmated females."
"You're kidding me."
"Fools haven't passed it yet, but according to Rehvenge, the vote's coming soon." The king looked at Z and Phury. "You two check into the airplane situation. We got anyone who knows how to fly?"
Phury shrugged. "I used to. And we could bring V in on it¡ª"
"Bring me in on what?" V said as he walked into the study.
Wrath looked around the twins. "Can you say Cessna, my brother?"
"Nice. We going airborne here?"
Butch and Marissa came in behind V. And they were holding hands.
John stepped to the side and just took it all in: Wrath falling deep into conversation with Beth while V and Butch and Marissa started talking among themselves and Phury and Z headed out.
Chaos. Movement. Purpose. This was the monarchy, the Brotherhood at work. And John felt privileged to be in the room... for however short a time he had left before they kicked his sorry ass to the curb.
Hoping maybe they'd forget he was around, he looked for a place to sit and eyed Tohr's chair. Keeping on the sidelines, he walked over and lowered himself into the faded, torn leather. From here he could see everything: the top of Wrath's desk and whatever was on it, the door where people came and went, every corner of the room.
John curled his legs under him and tilted forward, listening in as Beth and Wrath talked about the Princeps Council. Wow. They worked really great together. She was giving him excellent advice and the king was taking it.
As Wrath nodded at something she'd said, his long black hair slipped over his shoulder and fell onto the desk. He pushed it back, then eased to the side and opened a drawer, pulling out a spiral-bound steno pad and a pen. Without looking, he held them out behind him, right in front of John.
John took the gift with shaking hands.
"Well, leelan, that's what you get when you deal with the glymera. A whole lot of crap." Wrath shook his head and then looked up at V and Butch and Marissa. "So what's up, you three?"
John dimly heard words exchanged, but he was too humbled to focus. God, maybe the Brothers weren't kicking him out... maybe.
He tuned in again to hear Marissa say, "They have nowhere to go, so they're staying in the house I just rented. But, Wrath, they need long-term assistance and I fear there are others out there just like them¡ªfemales with no one to help them, either because their mates were taken by the lessers or died of natural causes or, God forbid, their males are abusers. I wish there was some kind of program¡ª"
"Yeah, we definitely need one. Along with about eight thousand other things." Wrath rubbed his eyes under his wraparounds, then looked back at Marissa. "Okay, I'm putting you in charge of this. Find out what the humans do for their kind. Figure out what we need for the race. Tell me what you require for money and staffing and facilities. Then go out and do it."
Marissa's mouth fell open. "My lord?"
Beth nodded. "That's a fabulous idea. And you know, Mary used to work with social services when she was a volunteer at the Suicide Prevention Hotline. You could start with her. I think she's really familiar with DSS."
"I... yes... I'll do that." Marissa looked at Butch and in response, the guy smiled, a slow, very male expression of respect. "Yes, I... I'll do it. I..." The female crossed the room in a daze, only to stop, at the door. "Wait, my lord? I've never done anything like this before. I mean, I've worked at the clinic, but¡ª"
"You're going to handle it just fine, Marissa. And, as a friend of mine told me once, you're going to ask for help when you need some. Got it?"
"Uh... yes, thank you."
"Lot of work ahead of you."
"Yes..." She curtsied, even though she was wearing pants.
Wrath smiled a little, then looked at Butch, who was going after his female. "Yo, cop, you and V and I are getting together tonight. It's a go. Be back here in an hour."
Butch seemed to pale. But then he nodded and took off with Vishous in tow.
As Wrath refocused on his shellan, John quickly scribbled something on the pad and held it out to Beth. After she read it aloud for the king, Wrath inclined his head.
"You go right ahead, son. And yeah, I know you're sorry. Apology accepted. But you sleep up here from now on. Don't care if it's in that chair or in a bed down the hall, you sleep here now." As John nodded, the king said, "And one more thing. Every night at four a.m. you're taking a walk with Zsadist."
John blew a whistle in an ascending note.
"Why? Because I said so. Every night. Otherwise, you're out of the training program and you're out of here. Dig? Whistle twice if you understand me and agree to this."
John did as he asked.
Then he awkwardly signed thank you. And left.