Epilogue
One week later. . .
Vishous took the hot chocolate from the stove and turned the burner off. As he poured the cocoa into a mug, he heard a yelp and an, "Oh, my God!"
Across the mansion's kitchen he saw Rhage standing halfway inside of Jane, as if she were a pool he'd waded into. The two of them leaped apart just as Vishous bared his teeth and growled at his brother.
Rhage held his hands up. "I didn't see her! Honest!"
Jane laughed. "It's not his fault. I wasn't concentrating, so I faded¡ª"
V cut her off. "Rhage is going to be more careful, aren't you, my brother. "
The implication being either the male would be, or he'd end up in traction.
"Yeah, absolutely. Shit. "
"Glad you see it my way. " Vishous picked up the mug, took it to Jane, and handed it to her. As she blew across the surface, he kissed her on the neck. Then did a little nuzzling.
To him she was just as she always had felt, but to others she was a thing of a different sort. She wore clothes, but if she wasn't keeping herself solid and someone bumped into her, the fabrics compressed like nothing was inside of them, and the person who was in her path basically stepped through her.
It was a little strange. Plus, if it happened to be one of his brothers, V's territoriality got triggered like you read about. The thing was, though, this was the new reality, so everyone had to deal. He and Jane were both making the transition to her new situation, and it wasn't always easy.
But who the fuck cared? They had each other.
"So you're going to Safe Place today?" he asked her.
"Yeah, my first day at my new job. Can't wait!" Jane's eyes shone. "Then I'm coming back here to put in equipment orders for my clinic. I've decided to take on two doggen and train them as nurses. I think that's the best thing to do for security purposes. . . "
As Jane talked about her plans for the Brotherhood's clinic and what she was going to do for Safe Place, V started to smile.
"What?" she said. She glanced down at herself, brushed her white coat off, then looked behind her.
"Come here, female. " He pulled her up against him and dropped his head. "I mention lately how sexy your brain is?"
"You were mostly interested in something else this afternoon, so no. "
He laughed at her wry smile. "I was a little preoccupied, wasn't I?"
"Mmm, yes. "
"I'm going to stop by Safe Place later, true?"
"Good. I think Marissa's got a network problem she wanted to talk to you about. "
Without even being aware of doing it, he tucked her in close and just hugged her. This was exactly what he'd wanted, this intermingling of lives, this closeness, this common purpose. The two of them, together.
"Are you okay?" she said softly so no one else could hear.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. " He put his mouth next to her ear. "It's just. . . I'm not used to this. "
"Used to what?"
"Feeling. . . shit, I don't know. " He pulled back, all weirded out that he was so sappy. "Never mind. . . "
"You can't get used to feeling like things are okay?"
He nodded because he didn't trust his voice.
She put her hand on his face. "You'll get used it. Just like I will. "
"Sire? I beg your pardon?"
V glanced over at Fritz. "Hey, my man, what's doing?"
The doggen bowed. "I have what you asked for. I left it in the foyer. "
"Excellent. Thanks. " He kissed Jane. "So I'll see you later?"
"Absolutely. "
He could feel her eyes on him as he left, and he liked it. He liked everything. He¡ª
Well, shit. He was just full of the joys of spring, wasn't he?
As he emerged into the foyer, he found what Fritz had left for him on the table by the foot of the grand staircase. At first he wasn't sure quite how to handle the thing. . . he didn't want to break it. In the end he held it gently in his hands and went into the library. He shut the double doors with his mind and sent a request to the Other Side.
Yeah, sure, he wasn't following the rules of proper dress, but then, he was a little preoccupied with what was in his hands.
When permission was granted, he dematerialized to the Scribe Virgin's courtyard and was greeted by the same Chosen as the last time he'd been there. Amalya began to bow, but looked up as a chirping sound came from his carefully cupped palms.
"What have you brought?" she whispered.
"Little present. Nothing much. " He walked over to the white tree with the white blossoms and opened his hands. The parakeet leaped free and took to a branch as if it knew that was its home now.
The brilliant yellow bird shuffled up and down the pale arm of the tree, its little feet gripping and releasing, gripping and releasing. It pecked at a blossom, let out a trill. . . brought a foot up and pedaled its neck.
V put his hands on his hips and measured how much space there was between all the blossoms on all the branches. He was going to have to bring over a shitload of birds.
The Chosen's voice was rife with emotion. "She gave them up for you. "
"Yeah. And I'm bringing her new ones. "
"But the sacrifice¡ª"
"Has been made. What's going on this tree is a gift. " He looked over his shoulder. "I'm going to fill it up whether she likes it or not. It's her choice what she does with them. "
The Chosen's eyes gleamed with gratitude. "She will keep them. And they will keep her from her solitude. "
V took a deep breath. "Yeah. Good. Because. . . "
He let the word drift and the Chosen said gently, "You don't have to say it. "
He cleared his throat. "So you'll tell her they're from me?"
"I won't have to. Who else but her son would do such a kindness?"
Vishous glanced back at the lone yellow bird in the midst of the white tree. He pictured the branches filled once again.
"True," he said.
Without another word he dematerialized back to the life he'd been given, the life he was leading. . . the life he now, and for the first time, was grateful he'd been born into.
Turn the page for a sneak preview of Phury's story
LOVER ENSHRINED
in the sixth book in the New York Times¡ªbestselling Black Dagger Brotherhood series. . . .
Phury, Zsadist's twin brother, makes the ultimate sacrifice and stands in for a fellow brother to become the chosen¡ªuntil he comes face-to-face with the only woman who can tempt his heart and make him question his chosen destiny. . .
A house can be empty even when it's full of people. And wasn't that a good thing.
Phury lurched around one of the mansion's countless corners, putting his hand out to steady himself. Man, he was wasted. How many blunts of red smoke? How much hooch?
Well, he'd started at midnight. It was now. . . He had no idea what time it was.
Whatever. Trying to get a tally on the bender would have been a waste of time anyway. Given how fogged out he was, it was doubtful he could count high enough, and besides, he couldn't really recall what his hourly rate of consumption had been. All he knew was that he'd left his room when his three bottles of gin had run out. Originally he'd planned to get more so he could keep making martinis, but then he'd just started wandering.
Hanging a right, he kept going along slowly, the base of his brain starting to fire with the need for another hit of red smoke. He was on the verge of turning back when he heard sounds coming down from the third floor's back stairwell.
Someone was up in the movie theater. Which meant he needed to beat feet in the opposite direction. Running into one of his brothers would so be a bad thing. Although the Brotherhood suspected he had a little problem with the red smoke¡ªhello, his room smelled like a Starbucks all the time¡ªhaving his nasty habits out in the open was just going to lead to drama.
As he turned away, he caught the scen
t of jasmine and stopped dead.
Cormia. . . Cormia was up there.
Letting himself fall back against the wall, he scrubbed his face and wondered what she was doing out and about. The Chosen rarely left her guest room except for meals.
What was she doing? And who was she with?
Phury ran a hand through his thick hair. Straightened his black silk shirt. Jacked up his cream Prada trousers. He might be totally cooked, but at least he looked like a gentleman.
Using the brass handrail to steady his big body, he went up the stairs knowing he was pulling a bad move. If you were barely in good enough shape to walk, you absolutely shouldn't interact with the Chosen female with whom you were supposed to mate as the Primale. . . especially considering that she'd been forced into the arrangement and you were a recently retired celibate whose sexual experience was pretty much limited to an uncompleted quickie with a prostitute in a bathroom at ZeroSum.
He got to the top of the stairs and pushed open the padded door. The movie theater had a real 1940s Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer vibe, decked out in retro style with low-level lights in brass cups and Art Deco palm reliefs running up the red-and-black walls. The stadium seating wasn't the kind you'd ever find in a ballpark. There were twenty-one chairs set back in three sections, the aisles marked with little rows of lights. Each of the leather ass-palaces was the size of a twin bed, and collectively they had more drink cup holders than a Boeing 747.
Cormia was down in front, part of her white Chosen's robe hanging off the arm of her chair. Up on the screen images were flickering fast. She was rewinding a scene.
God, she smelled good. Although for some reason that jasmine scent of hers was especially strong tonight.
The rewinding stopped and Phury glanced up at the vast screen¡ª
Holy. . . Christ. It was. . . a love scene. Patrick Swayze and that Jennifer woman with the nose were working each other out on a bed. Dirty Dancing.
Cormia leaned forward in the chair, her face coming into view. Her eyes were rapt on what was in front of her, her lips parted, one hand resting on the base of her throat. Long blond hair fell over her shoulder and brushed the top of her knee.
Phury's body hardened, his erection popping a tent in the front of his slacks, laying waste to the tailored pleating. Through the haze of red smoke, his sex roared, although not because of what was on the screen. Cormia was the trigger.
The bastard in him pointed out that he was the Chosen's Primale and she was his first among the others and it was about time they did what they were supposed to do. He had every right by law and custom to march down the shallow steps, drop to his knees in front of her, and push her robing to her hips. He was totally allowed to slide his hands up her thighs and spread her wide and dip down with his head. And after he got her good and wet with his mouth, he could absolutely unzip his pants, spring himself, and penetrate her over and over again until he came.
Phury groaned. Okay, that kind of pep talk was so not helping. Besides, he'd never gone down on a woman before, so he wasn't sure what to do¡ª
The bastard voice pointed out that if he could eat an ice-cream cone, the licking and sucking would translate pretty damn well.
Shut. Up.
He forced himself to turn back to the stairs. Leaving was the only decent thing to do. Sure, she'd lay with him out of duty. Hell, she'd been trained for it, she expected it, she wanted to discharge her obligation. After all, it was only after the two of them mated that the Chosen had their precious Primale, their stud. She was taking one for the team, as it were, and how noble was that?
Trouble was, the whole deal smacked of coercion. She'd been chosen. She hadn't chose him.
"Your grace?"
Cormia's voice froze Phury's feet to the floor. Damn it. . .
The movie theater went dark as if she'd canned the movie. "Your grace, do you. . . need something?"
Do not turn back around.
He looked over his shoulder, his eyes casting a yellow light down the backs of the chairs and the carpeted steps. Cormia was illuminated by his glowing stare, resplendent in her white robe.
"What were you watching?" he said in a low voice, even though it was perfectly obvious what had been up on the screen.
"Ah. . . John picked the movie. "
"You picked that scene, though, didn't you? And you watched it over and over again. Didn't you?"
Her reply was more breath than voice. "Yes. . . I did. "
"Why that scene?" he asked, knowing perfectly well the why of it. She was aroused. That was the reason her natural fragrance was so strong. She liked what she was looking at.
As he waited for her to answer, he knew he had to leave. What was pounding through his blood had nothing to with rituals or obligations or propriety. It was straight-out, hard-core sex, the kind that was going to leave them both exhausted and sweaty and messy and probably a little bruised. And to his total discredit, he didn't care that she was aroused because of the movie. It didn't matter that it wasn't about him.
"Why did you pick the scene, Cormia?"
Her graceful hand went back to the base of her throat. "Because. . . it made me think of you. "
Phury exhaled on a growl. It was the very last thing he expected her to say, as he was the very last thing he expected her to want. Duty was one thing. But she didn't have the look of a female worried about meeting an obligation. She wanted sex. Maybe even needed it. Just like he did.
And she wanted it with him.
In slow motion, he pivoted toward her, his body suddenly very coordinated. He was going to take her. Here.
Now. It was time to complete the Primale ceremony, seal the pact they'd taken on five months ago, seal it with their bodies.
Phury headed down the shallow steps, ready to claim his female.
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