Lover Revealed

Chapter Thirty-eight

Two minutes later, Marissa grabbed V's shoulder when the Brother stopped CPR. "You can't give up!"

"I'm not. Give me your arm." When she did, Vishous cut through the skin of her wrist. "Over his mouth. Now."

Marissa rushed to Butch's head, pushed his lips and teeth apart and put the slice right to him as Vishous resumed chest compressions. She held her breath, praying that Butch would start to drink, hoping that some of her was getting into him and helping.

But, no… he was dead… Butch was dead… Butch was dead—

Someone was moaning. Her. Yes, she was making that noise.

Vishous paused and felt Butch's neck. Then fumbled for the stethoscope. He was putting the disk down when Marissa thought she saw Butch's chest move. Or maybe not.

"Butch?" she said.

"I got something." Vishous repositioned the disk. "Yeah… I got something—"

Butch's ribs expanded as he sucked a breath in through his nose. Then his mouth moved against her wrist.

She repositioned her arm so the wound fit better over his lips. "Butch?"

His chest inflated more deeply, his mouth backing off her vein as he drew air down into his lungs. There was a pause and then another breath. Deeper still…

"Butch? Can you—"

Butch's eyes popped open. And she went cold to the core.

The male she loved was not in that stare. There was nothing in it. Just blank hunger.

With a roar, he grabbed her arm, his grip so powerful she gasped. And there was no escape as he latched on with his mouth and started drinking in ferocious pulls. Twisting on the table, he savaged her wrist, his eyes fixated, animalistic as he breathed through his nose and swallowed in great yanks.

Through the pain, she felt total, abject fear.

Tell me you're still in there, she thought. Tell me you are still with us…

It wasn't long before she became light-headed.

"He's taking too much," Vishous said, all urgent.

Before she could respond, she became aware of a scent in the room, a dark… yes, a bonding scent. Wrath's. Except why would he feel the need to establish his mating territory here and now?

She swayed and Vishous's hard fingers grabbed her upper arm. "Marissa, you're done."

But Butch was starving, mad from hunger. "No! No—"

"Let me take over."

Marissa's eyes shot to Beth… then focused on Wrath. Standing at his shellan's side, Wrath's face was set in violent lines, his body coiled as if he were about to fight something.

"Marissa? Will you let me feed him?" Beth said.

Marissa looked at the queen. God, those words, those same words that had been spoken back in July… when Wrath's body had balanced on the edge of life and Marissa's vein had been what was needed.

"Will you, Marissa?"

As she nodded her head numbly, Wrath started to growl, his lips peeling off fangs that had elongated into white knives.

Oh, Lord, this was a very dangerous situation. Fully bonded males did not share. Ever. In fact, they would fight to the death before they let another male anywhere near their females when it came to feeding.

Beth looked up at her hellren. Before she said anything, Wrath bit out, "V, get your ass over here and hold me back."

As Vishous approached the king, he wished Rhage was with him.

Shit… this was a bad idea. A pure-blooded, bonded male vampire about to watch his shellan feed someone else. Holy hell, when the Scribe Virgin had suggested Beth come down, V had assumed it was for ceremonial purposes, not so she could be a vein. But what was the choice? Butch was going to suck Marissa dry and not have enough and there wasn't another female in the house who could do the job: Mary was still human and Bella was pregnant.

Besides, like dealing with Rhage or Z would be any easier? For the beast, they'd need a tranq gun the size of a cannon and Z… well, shit.

Beth reached up and stroked her hellren's face. "Maybe you shouldn't watch."

Wrath grabbed her by the throat and kissed her hard. Then he brought up her wrist and scored her flesh, opening her vein.

"Go to him. Now." He pushed her away, then slammed his body back against the wall. "Vishous, you better fucking hold me. Or this is going to get ugly."

Wrath's awesome body was trembling, his muscles tensed up, his skin breaking out in a sweat. From behind his wraparounds, his eyes glowed with a light so fierce you could see it plainly.

V hurled himself at his king and met instant, straining resistance. Dear God, this was going to be like holding back a bull.

"Why don't… you leave?" V grunted as he worked to keep Wrath's body in place.

"Would have to… get past them… to get to the door. No… way."

V twisted his head and looked at the table.

Man, Marissa was going to be on the floor if she didn't get free of Butch. And the cop was going to fight like hell if that source of blood left his mouth.

"Beth!" V shouted as he and Wrath struggled. "Pinch the cop's nostrils. Pinch them hard and hold his forehead down. That's the only way you'll get him to release her."

When Beth grabbed Butch's nose, the cop made an inhuman noise, as if he knew what was coming. And his body jackknifed on the table like he was prepared to fight whoever was going to take his food away.

Oh, Christ, please don't let him attack Beth, V thought. Wrath was so lit he was liable to break free and kill the guy. Please—

The females handled it beautifully. Marissa yanked her wrist away and nailed Butch in the shoulders, punching into him, holding him down as Beth brought her wrist to his mouth. As that fresh vein came to him, Butch took to the new blood like a babe and moaned at the taste.

Which naturally caused Wrath to go apeshit.

The king's body lurched toward the table, Vishous getting dragged along.

"Marissa!" V shifted his grip so he was around Wrath's waist like a sash. "I need help over here!"

She looked over at Wrath… and she was good—damn, the female was good.

She undoubtedly wanted to be by Butch's side. Instead, she flashed over and rammed her body against the Wrath tangle that was about to unravel. The king stumbled back under the force of impact and V repositioned himself, his head torqued at a bad angle but his arms right where they needed to be, one up Wrath's back and locked on his neck, one around the waist. For kicks and giggles, V wrapped a leg through Wrath's thighs so if the male lunged forward again he would trip first.

As if on cue, Marissa did the same, entwining one of her legs with Wrath's and running an arm up the front of his chest.

Oh… shit. She was bleeding hard from that wrist of hers.

"Marissa… move your arm toward me…" V breathed deeply, muscles straining. "Marissa…"

She didn't appear to hear him. Was too busy watching what was happening on that gurney.

"Marissa… you're bleeding out. Lower your damn wrist."

She shifted her elbow and her arm dropped, but she really wasn't focused on herself.

Until V put his lips to her skin. Then she gasped and looked down.

Their eyes met. Hers were wide.

"Just to keep you from bleeding," he said against her wrist.

As Butch made a noise, she turned back to her mate.

And suddenly, time stopped for V in spite of the load he was holding back. He stared at Marissa's perfect profile as he licked the chewed mess of her wrist, sealing the wounds, easing the pain of them, starting the healing process. Compelled by something he didn't want to name, he ran his tongue over her skin again and again, tasting both her blood and… Butch's mouth.

Vishous repeated the licking more times than he had to. And on the last swipe, when he knew that he had to stop because he'd gone over the line already… when he knew he was going to lose control of Wrath unless he paid attention… on the last swipe, he looked out at Butch. And pressed his lips against the skin at his mouth in a kiss.

He had the strangest feeling he was saying good-bye to his roommate.

Butch woke up in a maelstrom. A whirlpool. A… blender.

There was a roaring throughout his body, something that sent every one of his muscles into contraction. He was… drinking something. Something so good it brought tears to his eyes… something thick and lovely against the tongue, a dark wine. As he swallowed again and again, he thought dimly that he'd tasted something like it before. Not this exact vintage but—

His eyes flipped open and he nearly passed out.

Holy shit, he was alive and on the other side and…

Wait, this wasn't Marissa. There was black hair hanging down over his face.

He jerked his mouth out of the way. "Marissa?"

When he heard her reply, he looked to the sound of her voice. Only to recoil.

Good… God. Not exactly what he expected to see and not a welcome wagon to his new life, either. Not by a long shot.

Wrath was right out of a Saturday-night movie, a hulking, snarling vampire monster, fangs bared, eyes glowing. And he wanted at Butch.

The good news was that he was being held back by Vishous and Marissa. The bad news was that they seemed to be on the verge of losing control of him.

Butch looked up at Beth, who was sucking the wound at her wrist shut. "Oh… shit." He'd drunk a lot from her, hadn't he? Oh… shit.

He let his head fall back against the table. Wrath was going to kill him. Absolutely. When they let that boy go, the king was going to wipe the floor with him.

Butch was cursing and measuring the distance to the door as Beth walked up to the trio.

"Wrath?" In a lower voice she said, "Keep holding him."

Butch turned on his side and met Marissa's eyes, praying he wasn't about to lose his life now. And he was impatient to get close to his female, but this was one situation that needed to be diffused with care.

"Wrath?" Beth repeated.

Wrath's instincts were so fired up, she had to talk at him for a while to get him focused on her instead of Butch.

"It's over, okay?" She touched his face. "It's done, it's over."

With a moan of desperation, Wrath pressed his lips to her palm, then squeezed his eyes shut in agony. "Tell them… tell them to let go slowly. And Beth… Beth, I'm going to come at you. I can't… stop that. But it'll be better than killing him…"

"Yeah… much better," Butch agreed.

Beth stepped back and braced herself. "Let him go."

It was like turning a tiger loose. Marissa ducked and scrambled out of the way while Wrath threw Vishous off with such force the brother slammed into a cabinet.

In one coordinated launch, the king went for Beth and bit her on the throat. As she gasped and fell back in ecstasy, Wrath wheeled around and nailed Butch with pure murder in his eyes.

It was obvious the king drank now not for sustenance but to mark, and his bonding scent was a screaming warning that filled the room. As soon as he felt his point had been made, he picked his shellan up in his arms and left. There was no question where they were headed: nearest room with a door so he could get inside of her.

Butch reached out for Marissa, and she came to him in the manner of hope to the disaffected: an illuminating warmth, a promise of a future worth living, a loving benediction. As she bent over him and held on tight, he kissed her softly and spoke a whole lot of nonsense, the words leaving him in an uncontrolled, unthought-out rush.

When they separated a little to breathe, he looked at Vishous. The brother was standing awkwardly next to the open door and staring down at the floor, his big body trembling ever so slightly.

"V?"

V's diamond eyes lifted and he blinked quick. "Hey, man." As Butch reached out a hand, Vishous shook his head. "Glad you're back, cop."

"Fuck you, come here. V… gitcha ass over here."

V shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly walked to the gurney. Marissa was the one who linked them, drawing Vishous's arm up and out so Butch could reach the brother's palm.

"You all right?" Butch asked, squeezing.

For a split second, his grip was returned. Then V stomped one of his shitkickers like a horse and broke the contact. "Yeah. Fine."

"Thank you."

"Yeah."

V was so twitchy, Butch took pity on him and changed the subject. "So is it over? Is that it?"

V stroked his goatee and glanced at the clock. Then looked at Butch's body. "Let's wait another ten minutes."

Okay, fine. Butch passed the time running his hands up and down Marissa's arms. And shoulders. And face. And hair. Eventually, V murmured, "I guess it is done."

Even though there was a curious disappointment in the brother's voice, Butch grinned. "Well, that wasn't too bad. Except for the dying part, of course. That wasn't…" He let the sentence drift and frowned.

"What is it?" Marissa said.

"I don't know, I—" Something was happening… something in his gut…

Vishous came over to the table. "What's going on, cop?"

"I…" The vast wave of pain came over him like a shroud of nails, wrapping around his body, cutting into him from every angle possible. He gasped under the onslaught, his vision conking out, then coming back. "Oh, shit. I'm dying..."

Vishous's face appeared in front of his. And the bastard was smiling… a big, fat Cheshire cat grin. "This is the change, my friend. Now… now you're turning."

"What the f—" He didn't get the word out. Red-hot agony became all he knew and he receded deep within himself, getting lost in the swirling torture. As it intensified even further, he hoped to pass out. No such luck.

After a hundred and fifty light-years of suffering, the popping started: The bones in his thighs were the first to snap and he howled, but there was no time to dwell on it because his upper arms were next. Then his shoulders. His spine… his lower legs… hands… feet… his skull screamed and his jaw ached. He rolled over… spit out two teeth…

Through the hurricane of the change, Marissa was with him, talking to him. He held on to her voice and the image of her in his head, the only thing steady in his world of suffering.