Dark Lover(123)

"What I believe is that you'd do anything to take care of him."

"Listen to me, man. You gave me a direct order to say nothing, and I obeyed. It was hard as hell for me, but I said nothing. Z came to you on his own."

"Then why did he know the others had been called?"

"My phone rang and his didn't. He was guessing."

Wrath shut his eyes. "I gotta take him out, you know that. The Scribe Virgin will demand nothing less for his treason."

"He can't help that he was approached. He told you what happened. If anyone deserves to die, it's Havers."

"And he will. But your twin accepted an offer to kill me. If he can do that once, he can do it again. And maybe next time he won't come forward after you work him over, you feel me?"

"On my honor, he called you on his own."

"Phury, man, I'd like to believe you. But you shot your own leg off to save him once. When it comes to your twin, you will do and say anything."

Phury's voice vibrated. "Don't do it, Wrath. I beg you. Z's been better lately."

"What about those dead women, brother?"

"You know it's the only way he'll feed. He has to stay alive somehow. And in spite of the rumors, he's never killed the humans he feeds from before. I don't know what happened with those two prostitutes."

Wrath cursed.

"My lord, he doesn't deserve to die for something he hasn't done. This isn't fair."

Wrath closed his eyes. Finally, he said, "Bring him with you tonight. I'll give him an opportunity to speak in front of the brotherhood."

"Thank you, my lord."

"Don't be grateful. Just because he opens his mouth, it doesn't mean he'll be saved."

Wrath turned the phone off.

He sure as hell wasn't granting the audience for Zsadist's sake. It was for Phury. They needed him in the brotherhood, and Wrath had a feeling the warrior wouldn't stay unless he felt as if his twin had been dealt with properly. And even then, he might bolt anyway.

Wrath thought about Zsadist, picturing the male in his mind.

Havers had picked the right assassin. It was well-known that Z wasn't tied to anyone or anything, so the good doctor was right to assume the warrior wouldn't have a problem betraying the brotherhood. It was also clear to any observer that Z was one of the few males on the planet lethal enough to kill Wrath.

There was just one thing that was off. Z didn't care about material possessions. As a slave, he'd never had any. As a warrior, he'd never wanted any. So it was hard to believe that money would motivate him.

Then again, he was perfectly capable of killing for fun.

Wrath froze as his nose started to tingle.

Frowning, he went over to one of the vents that brought fresh air into the chamber. He drew in a great breath.

A lesser was on the property.

The same one who'd been in the Hummer at Billy Riddle's house.



Beth put some leftover filet mignon and a little horseradish sauce between two slices of bread. As she bit down, she was in total heaven. Food just tasted better.

While she ate, she looked out the kitchen window at a maple tree. Its dark green leaves were totally lifeless. Summer still. There wasn't a breath of wind, as if the air itself had heat exhaustion.

No, something was moving.

A man was coming through the hedge, approaching the house from the property next door. Her skin prickled in warning.

Which was ridiculous. The guy had on a gray Caldwell Gas amp; Electric uniform and was carrying a clipboard in one hand. He didn't look particularly threatening, what with his pale hair and his relaxed demeanor. He was big, but he moved casually, just another bored meter reader who was wishing he had a desk job because of all the heat.

The phone on the wall rang and she jumped.

She reached over and picked up, still keeping her eyes on the man. He stopped as he saw her.

"Hello?" she said into the receiver. The CG amp;E guy started walking again, coming up to the back door.

"Beth, get down here now," Wrath barked.

At that moment, the meter man looked through the kitchen door's glass panels. Their eyes met. He smiled and lifted his hand.

Chills went over her flesh.

He's not alive, she thought. She wasn't sure how she knew it; she just did.

She dropped the phone and ran.

There was a crashing noise behind her as the back door splintered, and then she heard popping sounds. Something hit her in the shoulder with a sting. And then she felt another prick of pain.

Her body began to slow.

She fell facedown onto the kitchen tile.



Wrath yelled as he felt Beth hit the floor. Bolting up the stairwell, he burst into the drawing room.

The sun hit his skin and burned like a chemical spill, forcing him back into the darkness. He flashed down to his chamber, picked up the phone, and called upstairs. It rang and rang and rang.