Mary packed up her overnight bag under Fritz's watchful eye. The butler was dying to help, shuffling from side to side, aching to do what he clearly felt was his job.
"I'm ready," she said finally, even though she wasn't.
Fritz smiled now that he had a purpose and led her around the balcony to a room that faced the gardens behind the mansion. She had to give him credit: He was incredibly discreet. If he thought it was odd that she was moving out of Rhage's room, he didn't show it, and he treated her with the same courtesy he always had.
When she was by herself, she thought about her options. She wanted to go home, but she wasn't stupid. Those things in the park had been deadly, and as badly as she needed her space, she wasn't about to get killed over a bid for independence. Besides, how long could it take to install a security system? Maybe that Vishous guy was working on it right now.
She thought about her appointment at the doctor's tomorrow afternoon. Rhage had told her he'd let her go to it, and even though he'd been pissed off as he'd left, she knew he wouldn't prevent her from going to the hospital. Fritz was probably going to take her, she thought. When he'd given her the house tour, he'd explained that he could go out in the daylight.
Mary glanced at her bag. As she was considering leaving for good, she knew she couldn't walk away while being at such raw odds with Rhage. Maybe the night out would calm him down. She was certainly feeling more rational now herself.
She opened the bedroom's door wide enough so she could hear when he came home. And then she sat on the bed and waited.
It didn't take her long to get wobbly anxious, so she picked up the phone. When Bella answered, it was a relief to hear her friend's voice. They talked about nothing special for a little while. Then, when she felt up to it, she said she was coming home as soon as a security system was installed in her house. She was thankful Bella didn't press for details.
After a while, there was a long pause between them. "Ah, Mary, may I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Have you seen any of the other warriors?"
"Some, yes. But I don't know if I've run into all of them."
"Have you met the one who is... whose face is scarred?"
"That's Zsadist. His name is Zsadist."
"Oh. Ah, is he... "
"What?"
"Well, I've heard things about him. He has a dangerous reputation."
"Yeah, I can imagine. But you know, I'm not sure he's all bad. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason. Really."
At one A.M., John Matthew left Moe's and headed for home. Tohrment hadn't come. Maybe the man wasn't going to come. Maybe the chance to get away with him was lost.
Walking along in the cold night, John was frantic, his need to leave his building approaching evacuation levels.
The fear was so bad, it was coining out in his dreams. He'd taken a nap before work, and his nightmares had been terrifying, filled with visions of white-haired men coming after him, and catching him, and taking him somewhere dark and underground.
As he approached the door to his studio, he had his key in hand and he didn't dawdle. He shot inside and closed himself in, locking everything: the two dead bolts, the chain. He wished he had one of those door poles that plugged into the floor.
He knew he should eat, but he didn't have the energy to deal with the Ensure so he sat on his bed, hoping his flagging strength would magically rebound. He was going to need it. Tomorrow he had to go out and start looking for a new place to live. It was time to save himself.
But God, he wished he'd gone with Tohrment when he'd had the¡ª
A knock sounded on the door. John looked up, hope and fear twisting into a rope in his chest.
"Son? It's me, Tohrment. Open up."
John rushed across the room, tore the locks back, and nearly threw himself at the man.
Tohrment's brows came down over his navy-blue eyes. "What's the matter, John? You got trouble?"
He wasn't sure how much to say about the pale man he'd met in the stairwell, and in the end, decided to keep quiet. He wasn't going to risk Tohrment's changing his mind because the kid he was thinking of taking in was a paranoid psycho.
"Son?"
John went for his pad and pen while Tohrment shut the door.
I'm glad you came. Thank you.
Tohrment read the words. "Yeah, I would have gotten here sooner, but last night I had... business I needed to attend to. So have you thought about¡ª"
John nodded and scribbled quickly. I want to come with you.
Tohrment smiled a little. "That's good, son. That's a good choice."
John took a deep breath, beyond relieved.
"Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to come back tomorrow night and pick you up. I can't take you home now because I'm out in the field until dawn."
John swallowed fresh panic. But come on, he told himself. What was one more day?
Two hours before dawn, Rhage and Vishous went to the Tomb's entrance. Rhage waited in the woods while V took inside the jar they'd found at the lesser's place on LaCrosse.
The other address had proven to be an abandoned torture center. In the stuffy basement of the low-rent two-story, they'd found dust-covered instruments as well as a table and restraints. The place was a horrifying testimony to the Society's change in strategy from fighting the brothers to snatching and hurting civilians. Both he and Vishous had been choked with vengeance as they'd left.
On the way back to the compound, they'd stopped at Mary's so V could scope the rooms and figure out what he'd need to wire the place up good and tight. Being there had been hell. Seeing her things. Remembering the first night he'd gone to find her. He hadn't been able to look at the couch at all because it reminded him of what he'd done to her body on the floor behind it.
All that felt like a lifetime ago.
Rhage cursed and resumed scanning the forest around the cave's mouth. When V came out, the two of them dematerialized to the main house's courtyard.
"Hey, Hollywood, Butch and I are going to One Eye for a nightcap. You want to come?"
Rhage looked up at the dark windows of his bedroom.
Even though a trip to One Eye left him cold, he knew he shouldn't be alone. With the way he was feeling, he was liable to go find Mary and make an ass out of himself by begging. Which would just be wasted humiliation. She'd made it clear where they stood, and she wasn't the kind of female who was open to persuasion. Besides, he was through playing the lovesick idiot.
For the most part.
"Yeah. I'll hang with you boys."
V's eyes flared as if he'd made the offer to be polite and hadn't expected a yes. "Okay. Good deal. We're leaving in fifteen. I need a shower."
"Me, too." He wanted to get the lesser blood off him.
As he walked through the mansion's vestibule and into the foyer, Fritz came out of the dining room.
The butler bowed deeply. "Good evening, sire. Your guest is here."
"Guest?"
"The Chosen's Directrix. She indicated you had called upon her."
Shit. He'd forgotten he'd put the request in, and it wasn't like he needed their services anymore. If Mary wasn't in his life, he didn't require any special feeding arrangements. He was free to go suck and fuck whoever he wanted. Oh, joy.
God, the idea of being with anyone but Mary made him shrivel in his pants.
"Sire? Are you receiving?"
He was about to say no, but then figured that was not a smooth move. Considering his past history with the Scribe Virgin, it wasn't wise to offend her special class of females.
"Tell her I'll be with her in a few minutes."
He jogged upstairs to his room, turned the shower on to warm up, and then called V. The brother didn't seem surprised he was bailing on the trip to the bar.
Too bad it wasn't for the reason Vishous obviously assumed.
Mary came awake because she heard talk drifting up from the foyer. It was Rhage's voice. She'd recognize that deep rumble anywhere.
Slipping from the bed, she went to the gap she'd left in the door.
Rhage was coming up the stairs. His hair was damp, as if he'd just taken a shower, and he was dressed in a loose black shirt and baggy black pants. She was about to step into the hall when she saw he was not alone. The woman with him was tall and had a long blond braid of hair down her back. She was dressed in a filmy white gown, and together they looked like some kind of Goth wedding pair, he in all that black, she draped in that gossamer fabric. When they got to the head of the stairs, the woman paused, as if she didn't know which way to turn. Rhage put his hand under her elbow and looked down at her solicitously, as if she were so fragile, she might crack a bone just getting to the second floor.
Mary watched them go into his room. The door shut behind them.
She went back over to the bed and got in it. Images came crashing down on her head. Rhage all over her body with his mouth and his hands. Rhage thanking her for feeding him. Rhage looking at her while he told her he loved her.
Yeah, he loved her all right. So much so that he was doing another woman across the hall.
The instant the thought streaked through her mind, she knew she was being unreasonable. She'd pushed him away. He'd taken the hint. She had no right to blame him for having sex with someone else.
She'd gotten exactly what she'd asked for.
He was letting her go.
