Lover Avenged
Chapter FORTY-ONE
John took his fucking time in Xhex's shower, washing himself thoroughly not because he was dirty, but because he figured two could play at the whole wipe-the-slate-clean, what-happened-didn't-happen thing.
After she'd left however many hours and hours ago, his first thought had been a bad one. He wasn't going to lie: All he'd wanted to do was walk straight out into the sun and just be done with this loser-ass joke called life.
There were so many things he failed at. He couldn't talk. He sucked at math. His fashion sense, if left to its own devices, was anemic. He wasn't particularly good with emotions. He usually lost at gin rummy and always at poker. And there were a lot of other shortcomings.
But sucking at sex was the worst of them all.
As he'd lain in Xhex's bed and considered the merits of self-immolation, he'd wondered why the fact that he was a mess when it came to fucking seemed more important than any other deficiency.
Maybe it was because the newest chapter in his sex life had taken him into even rockier, more hostile territory. Maybe it was because the most recent disaster was so fresh.
Maybe it was because it was the last straw.
The way he saw it, he'd had sex twice, and both times he'd been taken, once violently and against his will and then however many hours ago with his total, full-bodied consent. The aftermath of the two experiences had sucked, and in the time he'd spent on Xhex's bed, he'd tried to stop replaying the hurts and mostly failed. Natch.
As night had fallen, however, he'd grown a set as it dawned on him that he was letting other people screw with his head. In neither case had he done anything wrong. So why the hell was he thinking about ending his own life when he wasn't the problem?
The answer was not to turn himself into the vampire equivalent of a s'more.
Shit, no. The answer was to never, ever be a victim again.
From now on, when it came to fucking, he was the one who was going to do the taking.
John got out of the shower, dried off his powerful body, and stood in front of the mirror, measuring his muscle and his strength. As he cupped his balls up around his cock, his heavy sex felt good in his hand.
Nope. No more being a victim of other people. Time to grow the fuck up.
John left the towel where it landed on the counter, dressed quickly, and felt taller somehow as he strapped his guns on and went for his phone.
He refused to be some weak-ass, crybaby motherfucker anymore.
His text to Qhuinn and Blay was short and sweet: Mt me @ ZS. Am gttn drunk n expect u both 2 do same.
After he hit send, he went through the call log. A lot of people had reached out and touched his phone during the day, mostly Blay and Qhuinn, who evidently had dialed up every couple of hours. There was also some unknown private caller who'd hammered in three times.
The end result was, he had two voice mails, and with no particular curiosity, he accessed his account and listened, expecting the unknown to be a human with a wrong number.
It wasn't.
Tohrment's voice was strained and low: "Hey, John, it's me, Tohr. Listen...I, ah, I don't know if you'll get this, but can you call me if you do? I'm worried about you. Worried about you, and I want to say that I'm sorry. I know I've been really fucking out-of-it for a while now, but I'm coming back. I went...I went to the Tomb. That's where I was. I had to go back and see...Shit, I don't know... I had to see where everything had started before I could shake myself back to reality. And then I, ah, I fed last night. For the first time since..." The voice cracked and there was a brisk breath. "Since Wellsie died. I didn't think I could get through it, but I did. It's going to take me a while to get-"
At that point the message cut off and the automated voice asked him if he wanted to save or delete. He hit pound to skip to the next one.
Tohr again: "Hey, sorry about that, I got cut off. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I fucked your head up. It wasn't fair to you. You've been mourning her, too, and I wasn't there to help you, and that's always going to weigh on me. I abandoned you when you needed me. And...I'm really sorry. I'm done with running, though. I'm not going anywhere. I guess...I guess I'm here and that's where I am. Fuck, I'm making no sense. Look, please call me and let me know you're safe. Bye."
There was a beep and the automated voice cut in. "Save or delete?" she prompted.
As John took the phone from his ear and stared down at the thing, there was a moment of wavering as the child that remained in him cried out for its father.
A text from Qhuinn flashed across the screen, snapping him out of the immaturity.
John hit delete on Tohr's second v-mail, and when asked if he wanted to review his first skipped message he said yes and deleted that one as well.
Qhuinn's text was just: W'll b thur.
Good deal, John thought as he picked up his leather jacket and left.
For someone who was jobless but had plenty of bills, Ehlena had no business being in a good mood.
As she dematerialized out to the Commodore, though, she was happy. Did she have problems? Yes, absolutely: If she didn't find work fast, she and her father were in danger of losing the roof over their heads. But she'd applied for a housecleaning position with a family of vampires to tide her over, and she was considering dabbling in the human world. Medical transcription was an idea, the only problem being that she didn't have a human identity worth the laminated card it was printed on, and that was going to cost money to get. Still, Lusie was paid through the end of the week, and her father was delighted that his "story," as he called it, had pleased his daughter.
And then there was Rehv.
She didn't know where things were headed with him, but there was possibility between them, and the feeling of hope and optimism that created buoyed her in all parts of her life, even the holy-shit jobless stuff.
Taking form on the terrace of the correct penthouse, she smiled at the flurries that swirled around in the wind and wondered why it was that whenever they fell, the cold didn't feel as cold.
When she turned around, she saw a massive shape through the glass. Rehvenge had been waiting and watching for her, and the fact that he was looking forward to this as much as she was made her smile so wide, her front teeth tingled in the chill.
Before she could go over the door in front of him slid open, and he strode across the distance that seperated them, the winter wind catching his sable coat and sweeping it out from his body. His glowing amethyst eyes flashed. His stride was pure power. His aura was undeniably male.
Her heart leaped as he stopped before her. In the glow from the city, his face was hard and loving at the same time, and though it no doubt froze him to the bone, he opened his coat, inviting her to share what body heat he had.
Ehlena leaned in and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight, breathing his scent deeply.
His mouth dropped to her ear. "I missed you."
She closed her eyes, thinking those three little words were as good as I love you. "I missed you, too."
As he laughed softly with satisfaction, she both heard the sound and felt it as his chest rumbled. And then he cuddled her closer. "You know, with you against me like this, I'm not cold."
"That makes me happy."
"Me, too." He turned them so they could both look out over the snow blanketed terrace and the skyscrapers of downtown and the two bridges with their stripes of yellow headlights and red taillights. "I've never gotten to enjoy this view up close and personal like this. Before you...I've only seen it through the glass."
Held within the cocooning warmth of his body and his coat, Ehlena had a sense of triumph that together they had bested the chill.
With her head lying on his heart, she said, "It's magnificent."
"Yeah."
"And yet...I don't know, only you feel real to me."
Rehvenge pulled back and tilted her chin up with one long finger. As he smiled, she saw that his fangs were longer, and instantly she was aroused.
"I was thinking the exact same thing," he said. "At this moment, I can't see anything but you."
As she slid her arms around the back of his neck and they both got carried away, Ehlena closed her eyes.
Which meant she didn't see and Rehvenge didn't feel the presence that materialized on the top of the penthouse's roof...
And glared at them with red, glowing eyes the color of freshly spilled blood.
Chapter FORTY-TWO
Please don't wince if you can manage it-okay, that's good."
Doc Jane moved over to Wrath's left eye, flashing her penlight right into the back of his brain, as far as he could tell. While the spear bored into him, he had to fight the urge not to jerk his head back.
"You really don't like that," she murmured as she clipped the penlight off.
"No." He rubbed his eyes and put his wraparounds back on, unable to see anything but a pair of shiny black bull's-eyes.
Beth spoke up. "But that's not unusual. He's never been able to tolerate light."
As her voice drifted, he reached over and squeezed her hand to try to reassure her-which, if it worked, would reassure him by extension.
Talk about ruining the mood. After it had been clear that his eyes had taken a little unscheduled vacay, Beth had called Doc Jane, who had been down in the new clinic space, but more than willing to house-call it stat. Wrath, however, had insisted on going to where the doctor was. The last thing he wanted was for Beth to have to hear bad news in their marital chamber-and nearly as important, to him, that was sacred space. Apart from Fritz coming in to clean, no one was welcome in their bedroom. Even the Brothers.
Besides, Doc Jane was going to want to do tests. Doctors always wanted to do tests.
Persuading Beth had taken some time, but then Wrath had put on his sunglasses, wrapped his arm around his shellan's shoulders, and together they had walked out of their chambers, down their private staircase, and onto the second-story balcony. Along the way, he'd stumbled a couple of times, catching his shitkickers on the corners of runners and misremembering where steps were, and the rough going was a revelation. He'd had no clue that he relied on his faulty vision as much as he apparently did.
Holy...dearest Virgin Scribe, he'd thought. What if he went permanently, totally blind?
He couldn't bear that. Just couldn't bear it.
Fortunately, halfway through the tunnel to the training center, his head had pounded a number of times, and suddenly the light glowing down from the ceiling pierced through his sunglasses. Or rather, his eyes registered it. He'd stopped and blinked and whipped off his wraparounds and immediately had to put them back on as he'd stared up at the fluorescent panels.
So all was not lost.
As Doc Jane stood before him, she crossed her arms, the lapels of her white coat bunching up. She was fully solid, her ghostly form as substantive as his or Beth's, and he could practically smell the wood burning as she considered his case.
"Your pupils are virtually nonresponsive, but that's because they are nearly contracted to begin with... Damn it, I wish I'd done a baseline optical on you. You said the blindness came on suddenly?"
"I went to bed and woke up unable to see anything. I'm not sure when it happened."
"Anything different?"
"Other than the fact that I didn't have a headache?"
"Have you been getting them recently?"
"Yeah. It's stress."
Doc Jane frowned. Or at least he sensed that she did. To him, her face was a pale blur with short blond hair, the features of which were indistinct.
"I want you to get a CAT scan at Havers's."
"Why?"
"To see about a couple of things. So, wait, you just woke up and your sight was gone-"
"Why do you want the CAT scan?"
"I want to know if there's anything abnormal in your brain."
Beth's hand tightened on his as if she were trying to get him to chill, but panic made him impolite. "As in what? For fuck's sake, Doc, just talk to me."
"A tumor." As both he and Beth sucked in a breath, Doc Jane continued quickly, "Vampires do not get cancer. But there have been instances of benign growths and that might explain the headaches. Now tell me again, you woke up and...it was just gone. Was there anything unusual going on before you fell asleep? Afterward?"
"I..." Fuck. Shit. "I woke up and I fed."
"How long had it been since you'd last done that?"
Beth answered. "Three months or so."
"Long time," the doctor murmured.
"So you think that could be it?" Wrath said. "I didn't feed enough and lost it, but when I did take her vein, my vision came back and-"
"I think you need a CAT scan."
There was no nonsense coming from her, nothing to argue with. So as he heard a phone getting flipped open and being dialed, he kept his piehole shut even though it killed him.
"I'll see when Havers can get you in."
Which was going to be at the drop of a hat, no doubt. Wrath and the race's physician had had their differences, going way back to the Marissa days, but the male had always been front and center with the service when it was needed.
As Doc Jane started talking, Wrath cut in on her conversation. "Do not tell Havers what it's for. And you and only you see the results. We clear?"
Last thing they needed was any speculation on his fitness to rule.
Beth spoke up. "Tell him it's for me."
Doc Jane nodded and smoothly lied, and as she arranged everything, Wrath pulled Beth up against his side.
Neither of them said anything, because what kind of conversation was there to be had? They were both scared shitless-his vision was crap, but he needed what little he had. Without it? What the hell was he going to do?
"I have to go to that council meeting at midnight," he said softly. As Beth stiffened, he shook his head. "Politically speaking, I have to go. Things are too unstable right now for me to not show, or to try to move it to another night. I have to come from a position of strength."
"And what if you lose your sight in the middle of it?" she hissed.
"Then I'm going to fake it until I can get out of there."
"Wrath-"
Doc Jane clipped her phone shut. "He can see you right now."
"How long will it take?"
"About an hour."
"Good. I have somewhere I need to be at midnight."
"Why don't we see what the scan says-"
"I have to-"
Doc Jane cut him off with an authority that told him in this exchange he was a patient, not the king. "Have to is a relative term. We'll see what's doing in there and then you can decide just how much have to you've got."
Ehlena could have stayed on the terrace with Rehvenge for twenty years, but he whispered in her ear that he'd made them something to eat, and sitting across from him in candlelight sounded equally as great.
After a final, lingering kiss, they went inside together, her tucked against him, his arm around her waist, her hand up on his back between his shoulder blades. The penthouse was hot, so she took her coat off and draped it over one of the low-slung black leather couches.
"I thought we'd eat in the kitchen," he said.
So much for candlelight, but what did it matter? As long as she was with him, she glowed enough to light up the whole damn penthouse.
Rehvenge took her hand and drew her through the dining room and out the other side of a swinging butler's door. The kitchen was black granite and stainless steel, very urban and sleek, and at one end of the countertop, where there was an overhang, two place settings were arranged in front of a pair of stools. A white candle was lit, the flame lazy on top of its diminishing wax pedestal.
"Oh, this smells fantastic." She slid up onto one of the stools. "Italian. And you said you could only make one thing."
"Yeah, I really slaved over this." He turned toward the oven with a flourish and removed a flat pan with...
Ehlena burst out laughing. "French-bread pizza."
"Only the best for you."
"DiGiorno?"
"Of course. And I splurged on the supreme kind. I figured you could pick off what you don't like." He used a pair of sterling-silver tongs to transfer the pizzas onto the plates and then put the baking sheet back on the top of the stove. "I have red wine, too."
As he came over with the bottle, all she could do was stare up at him and smile.
"You know," he said as he poured some into her glass, "I like the way you're looking at me."
She put her hands over her face. "I can't help it."
"Don't try. It makes me feel taller."
"And you're not small to begin with." She tried to get a grip, but just felt like giggling as he filled his own glass, put the bottle down, and took a seat next to her.
"Shall we?" he said, picking up his knife and fork.
"Oh, my God, I'm glad you do that, too."
"Do what?"
"Eat pizza with a knife and fork. The other nurses at work give me such a hard..." She let the sentence drift. "Well, anyway, I'm glad there's someone like me."
There was the sound of crispy bread splintering under knife blades as they both worked on their dinner.
Rehvenge waited until she took her first bite and then said, "Let me see you through your job search."
He timed it perfectly, because she never talked with her mouth full, so he had plenty of airspace to continue. "Let me carry you and your father until you have another job that earns you as much as you made at the clinic." She started to shake her head, but he held up his hand. "Wait, think about it. Without my being an ass, you wouldn't have done what you did to get fired. So it's only fair that I make amends, and if it helps, think about it from a legal point of view. Under the Old Law I owe you, and I am nothing if not law-abiding."
She wiped her mouth. "It just feels...weird."
"Because someone's helping you for once instead of the other way around?"
Well, damn it, yes. "I don't want to take advantage of you."
"But I've offered, and believe me, I have the means."
True enough, she thought, looking at his coat and the heavy silverware he was eating with and the porcelain plate and the-
"You have lovely table manners," she murmured for no good reason.
He paused. "My mother's doing."
Ehlena put her hand on his huge shoulder. "Can I say I'm sorry again?"
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "There's something better you can do for me."
"What?"
"Let me take care of you. So that your job search is more about finding something you want to do rather than a mad dash into any old thing just to pay the bills." He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and clasped his chest as if he had a case of the vapors. "That would relieve my suffering so much. You and you alone have the power to save me."
Ehlena laughed a little, but couldn't keep any semblance of joviality up. Beneath the surface of him, she sensed he was hurting, and the pain came out in the shadows under his eyes and the grim set of his jaw. Clearly, he was making an effort to be normal for her benefit, and though she appreciated it, she didn't know how she could get him to stop without putting pressure on him.
They really were strangers to each other still, weren't they? In spite of all the time they had spent together in the last couple of days, how much did she really know about him? His bloodline? When she was around him or they were on the phone, she felt as though she knew all she needed to, but realistically speaking, what did they have together?
He frowned as he dropped his hands and cut into his pizza again. "Don't go there."
"I'm sorry?"
"Wherever you are in your head. It's the wrong place for you and me." He took a drink of his wine. "I'm not going to be rude and read your mind, but I can sense what you're feeling, and it's distance. That's not what I'm after. Not when it comes to you." His amethyst eyes shifted over and stared straight into her. "You can trust me to take care of you, Ehlena. Don't ever doubt that."
Looking at him, she believed him one hundred percent. Absolutely. Positively. "I do. I do trust you."
Something flickered across his face, but he hid it. "Good. Now, finish your dinner and come to the realization that my helping you is the right thing."
"Okay." She glanced over at him. "I'll let you help."
When he smiled broadly, because he was getting his way, she cut through his robin-breasted satisfaction. "But there are conditions."
He laughed. "You're putting restrictions on a gift given to you?"
"It's not a gift." She stared at him with dead seriousness. "It's only until I find some kind of work, not my dream job. And I want to pay you back."
He lost a little of his satisfaction. "I don't want your money."
"And I feel the same way about yours." She folded her napkin. "I know you're not hurting for cash, but that's the only way I'll be okay with this."
He frowned. "No interest, though. I won't accept even one penny in interest."
"Deal." She put her palm out and waited.
He cursed. And cursed again. "I don't want you to pay it back."
"Tough."
After his mouth performed some intricate f-bomb acrobatics, he put his hand in hers and they shook. "You drive a hard bargain, you know that," he said.
"But you respect me for it, right?"
"Well, yeah. And it makes me want to get you naked."
"Oh..."
Ehlena flushed from head to toe as he slid off his stool and towered over her, cupping her face in his hands. "You going to let me take you to my bed?"
Given the way those purple eyes of his were shining, she was willing to let him take her down on the damn kitchen floor if he asked. "Yes."
A growl rolled up out of his chest as he kissed her. "Guess what?"
"What?" she breathed.
"That was the right answer."
Rehvenge tugged her off her stool and kissed her quick and soft. With his cane in hand, he led her to the other side of the penthouse, through rooms she didn't see and past a twinkling view she didn't appreciate. All she knew was thick, pounding anticipation for what he was going to do to her.
Anticipation and...guilt. What could she give him? Here she was craving him sexually again, but there was no release for him. Even though he said he got something from it, she felt as if she were-
"What are you thinking about?" he said as they came into the bedroom.
She glanced over at him. "I want to be with you, but...I don't know. I feel like I'm using you or-"
"You're not. Trust me, I'm well familiar with being used. What happens between us here is nothing like that." He cut off her question. "No, I can't go into it, because I need...Shit, I need this time with you to be simple. Just you and me. I'm tired of the rest of world, Ehlena. I'm so fucking tired of it."
It was that other female, she thought. And if he didn't want whoever it was with them? Fine with her.
"I just need this to be okay," Ehlena said. "Between you and me. I want you to feel something, too."
"I do. I can't believe it myself sometimes, but I so do."
Rehv shut the door behind them, balanced his cane on the wall, and removed his sable coat. The suit underneath the duster was yet another exquisitely cut double-breasted masterpiece, this time a dove gray with black pinstripes. The shirt underneath was black with the top two buttons undone.
Silk, she thought. That shirt had to be made of silk. No other fabric gave off that luminescent glow.
"You are so beautiful," he said as he stared at her, "standing there in the light like that."
She glanced at her Gap black pants and her two-year-old knit turtleneck. "You must be blind."
"Why?" he asked, coming over to her.
"Well, I feel like such an ass for saying this." She smoothed the front of her off-the-rack-and-then-some slacks. "But I wish I had better clothes. Then I'd be beautiful."
Rehvenge paused.
And then shocked the crap out of her by kneeling before her.
As he looked up, he had a slight smile on his lips.
"Don't you get it, Ehlena." With gentle hands, he stroked down her calf and brought her foot forward, balancing it on his thigh. As he undid the laces on her cheapo Keds sneaker, he whispered, "No matter what you wear...to me, you will always have diamonds on the soles of your shoes."
As he slid her sneaker off and stared up at her, she studied his hard, handsome face, from those spectacular eyes of his to his thick jaw to his proud cheekbones.
She was falling in love with him.
And like any trip through thin air, there was nothing she could do to stop it. The leap had been made.
Rehvenge bowed his head. "I'm just glad you'll have me."
The words were so quiet and humble, at odds with the incredible breadth of his shoulders.
"How could I not?"
He shook his head back and forth slowly. "Ehlena..."
Her name was spoken roughly, as if there were a lot more words behind it, words he couldn't bear to speak. She didn't understand, but she knew what she wanted to do.
Ehlena took her foot from him, got down on her own knees, and wrapped her arms around him. She held him as he leaned into her, running one hand up the back of his neck to his mohawk's stripe of soft hair.
He seemed so fragile as he gave himself up to her, and she realized that if anyone tried to hurt him, even though he could more than take care of himself, she would commit murder. To protect him, she would kill.
The conviction was as solid as the bones beneath her skin:
Even the powerful needed protection sometimes.