Lover At Last(178)

Which had been a mistake.

They needed someplace safe. Secure. Impregnable.

Especially if his brother continued with the hit-it-and-quit-it shit, and AnsLai kept doing “diplomatic” drive-bys.

iAm resumed his pacing. It was impossible to ignore the fact that his brother was getting worse. The sexual stuff had been going on for years—and for the longest time, iAm had just chalked it up to a healthy male’s drive for mating.

Something that he had often thought he lacked.

Then again, his brother had been fucking enough females for the both of them.

In recent months, however, it had become clear that there was an addiction process at work—and that had been even before the high priest had started showing up. Now that things seemed to be coming to a head with AnsLai? The s’Hisbe’s machinations were just going to put more pressure on his brother, and that was going to make him act out even more.

Shit. iAm felt like he was standing in front of a train crossing, triangulating the speed of the locomotive’s engine with the approach of an oncoming car…and seeing the carnage that was going to result. The metaphor was also apt when it came to the helplessness he felt because he couldn’t put the brakes on either force: He wasn’t behind the wheel or in the engineer’s seat. All he could do was sit back and watch.

Or scream at the side of the road was more like it.

Where the hell could they go—

Frowning, he lifted his eyes up from the view, up past the molding, up to the ceiling.

After a moment, he took out his cell phone and made a call.

When he hung up, he went down to his brother’s room. Opening the door a crack, he said into the dense, black silence, “I’m going out for a second. Won’t be long.”

Trez’s moan could have meant anything from, “Cool,” to, “Oh, God, not so loud,” to, “Have fun, I’m going to hang here and hurl some more.”

iAm walked fast. Out of the apartment. To the elevator.

Inside of which, he hit the button marked “P” for “Penthouse.”

When the doors slid open, there were two choices: One direction took him to the Brother Vishous’s place. The other to his old friend’s.

He strode down and rang Rehvenge’s bell.

When the symphath opened up, Rehv appeared as he always was: mohawked, purple-eyed, mink clad. Dangerous. Little bit evil.

“Hey, my man, how you be,” the male said as they embraced and clapped each other on the shoulder. “Come in.”

As iAm entered the Reverend’s private space for the first time in a good year or so, he found that nothing had changed, and for some reason, that was a relief.

Rehvenge went over to a leather sofa and sat down, propping his cane up next to him and crossing his legs at the knees. “What do you need?”

As iAm tried to put together the right words, Rehv swore a little. “Man, I knew this wasn’t a social call—but I didn’t expect your emotions to be a fucking mess.”

Ah, yes, the sin-eater way meant that there was no hiding anything from the male.

Still, it was difficult to speak of it all. “I’m not sure you’re aware of what’s been going on with Trez?”

Rehv frowned, his dark brows narrowing that intense, violet stare. “I thought the Iron Mask was doing good business. You boys in trouble? I’ve got plenty of cash if you need—”

“Business is great. We’ve got more money than we can spend. The issue is my brother’s extracurricular activities.”

“He’s not into drugs, is he,” Rehv said darkly.

“Women.”

Rehv laughed and brushed that off with the flick of a dagger hand. “Oh, if that’s all it is—”

“He’s completely out of control—and one of them magically appeared in his bed tonight. We got home and there she was.”

Rehv went back to the frowning. “In your apartment? How the fuck did she get in?”

“The lowest common denominator with a security guard.” iAm paced around the modern room, dimly noting that the view was, in fact, better from this height. “Trez has been fucking anything that moves for years, but lately he’s been so reckless—not wiping memories, hitting ’em more than once, not worrying about consequences.”

“What the hell is wrong with him?”

iAm turned and faced the half-breed who was the closest thing to family he had outside of his flesh and blood. Matter of fact, he trusted the guy more than ninety-nine percent of his own bloodline.

“Trez is mated.”

Long silence. “Excuse me?”

iAm nodded. “He’s mated.”

Rehv got up off that couch. “Since when?”