Dark Lover

"And a white female." His voice cracked. "Five-nine, long black hair. Wearing a blue skirt and a white button-down." He paused. "Beth."

"I know. She called." Jose's face tightened. "I didn't ask for details. From the sound of her voice, she wasn't about to give me any."

Butch's knees wobbled.

"Whoa, Detective." Jose hoisted him up. "We're going to take this slow."

The instant they came through the station's back door, Butch weaved. "I need to go look for her."

"Let's just chill on this bench."

"No…"

Jose loosened his hold, and Butch went down like a piano.

Just as half the freaking precinct came up in a rush. The fleet of concerned guys in dark blue and badges made him feel pathetic.

"I'm fine," he snapped. Then he had to put his head between his knees.

How could he have let this happen?

If Beth turned up dead in the morning…

"Detective?" Jose got down on his haunches, putting his face in Butch's line of sight. "We've called an ambulance."

"Don't need one. Is the APB out?"

"Yeah, Ricky's doing it right now."

Butch brought his head up. Slowly.

"Man, what happened to your neck?" Jose breathed.

"It was used to hold my body off the ground." He swallowed a couple of times. "Did the weapons get picked up from the address I called in?"

"Yeah. We got 'em and the cash. Who the hell is this guy?"

"I have no fucking clue."

Chapter Seventeen

Wrath walked up the front steps of Darius's house. The door swung open before he could reach the brass handle.

Fritz was on the other side. "Master, I didn't know you were-"

The doggen froze as he saw Beth.

Yeah, you know who she is, Wrath thought. But let's be cool

.

She was jumpy enough as it was.

"Fritz, I'd like you to meet Beth Randall." The butler kept staring. "You going to let us in?"

Fritz bent down low and bowed his head. "Of course, master. Ms. Randall, it is an honor to finally meet you in person."

Beth seemed taken aback, but managed a smile as the doggen straightened and moved from the doorway.

When she stuck her hand out, Fritz gasped and looked to Wrath for permission.

"Go ahead," Wrath muttered as he shut the front door. He never could understand the strict traditions of the doggens.

Fritz reached out reverently, clasping her palm in both of his and dropping his forehead to their joined hands. Words in the old language were spoken in a quiet rush.

Beth was clearly astonished. But then she had no way of knowing that by offering her hand to him, she had paid him the highest honor of his species. As the daughter of a princeps, she was a high-bred aristocrat in their world.

Fritz was going to be glowing for days.

"We'll be in my chamber," Wrath said when the contact was broken.

The doggen hesitated. "Master, Rhage is here. He had a… little accident."

Wrath cursed. "Where is he?"

"In the downstairs bathroom."

"Needle and thread?"

"in there with him."

"Who's Rhage?" Beth asked as they started down the hall.

Wrath paused by the drawing room. "You wait here."

But she followed when he walked on.

He turned around, pointing over her shoulder. "That wasn't a request."

"And I'm not waiting anywhere."

"Damn it, do as I say."

"No." The word was spoken without heat. She defied him with total calmness and strength of purpose.

As if he were no more an obstacle in her path than a throw rug.

"Jesus Christ. Fine, lose your dinner."

As he stalked down to the bathroom, he could smell the blood all the way out in the hall. This was a nasty one, and he really wished Beth weren't so hell-bent on seeing for herself.

He pushed the door open, and Rhage looked up. The vampire's arm was hanging over the sink. There was blood everywhere, a dark pool on the floor, a little pond on the counter.

"Rhage, man, what's up?"

"Sliced and diced. Lesser got me a good one, right through a vein, down to the bone. I'm leaking like a sieve."

In a blurry composite. Wrath caught the movement of Rhage's hand going down to his shoulder and up into the air. Down to his shoulder, up into the air.

"Did you get him?"

"Hell, yeah."

"Oh… my… God," Beth said. "Oh, dear God. Is he stitching-"

"Hey, who's the cutie?" Rhage said, pausing on the upstroke.

There was a strangled sound, and Wrath moved, blocking Beth's view with his bodv.

"Need help?" he asked, even though both he and his brother knew he had nothing to offer. He couldn't see well enough to close his own wounds, much less someone else's. The fact that he had to rely on his brothers or Fritz to tend to him was a weakness he despised.

"No, thanks." Rhage laughed. "I'm a good little sewer, as you know firsthand. Now who's your friend?"

"Beth Randall, this is Rhage. An associate of mine. Rhage, this is Beth, and she doesn't do movie stars, got it?"

"Loud and clear." Rhage leaned to one side, trying to see around Wrath. "Nice to meet you, Beth."

"Are you sure you don't want to go to a hospital?" she said weakly.

"Nah. This one's just messy. When you can use your large intestine as a belt loop, that's when you hit the pros."