Lover Avenged(164)

As Saxton talked, Wrath read the male’s emotions carefully, breathing through his nose. No deceit. Conscience was clean. Flyboy was attracted to V, but other than that? There was nothing. Not even fear. He was cautious, but calm.

“If you’re lying,” V said softly, “we will find out and find you.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“What do you know, the lawyer has a brain.” Vishous stepped back in line, palm returning to the butt of his gun.

Wrath wanted to know what was in the envelope, but he gathered that whatever was in there wasn’t suitable for mixed company. “So where are your boss and his buddies, Saxton.”

“None of them are coming.” Saxton looked at the empty chairs. “They’re all terrified. After what happened to Montrag, they are locked in their houses and staying there.”

Good, Wrath thought. With the glymera displaying their talent for being cowards, he had one less thing to worry about.

“Thanks for coming, son.”

Saxton took the dismissal for exactly what it was, reclipping his briefcase, bowing once again, and turning to go.

“Son?”

Saxton stopped and pivoted all the way around. “My lord?”

“You had to talk your boss into this, didn’t you.” Discreet silence was the response. “Then you give good advice, and I believe you-as far as you know, neither you nor your employer peeked in there and saw whatever it is. Word to the wise, though. I would find a new job. Things are going to get worse before they’re better, and desperation makes shits out of even the most honorable of people. They’ve already sent you into the lion’s mouth once. They will do it again.”

Saxton smiled. “You ever need a personal lawyer, let me know. After all the trusts and estates and bloodline training I’ve had since this summer, I’m looking to branch out.”

Another bow and the guy left with iAm, his head high and his stride even.

“What have you got there, V?” Wrath asked quietly.

“Nothing good, my lord. Nothing good.”

As Wrath’s vision dulled to its normal, unfocused uselessness, the last thing he saw with any clarity was V’s icy eyes shifting over and locking on Rehvenge.





FORTY-NINE




As the unmarked police car left Pine Grove Cemetery, Lash became utterly focused on the symphath presence that had just revealed itself inside the gates.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he told his men.

As he dematerialized, he went back toward the dead girl’s grave in the rear corner of the-

The scream was out-of-control operatic, a soprano losing the grip on her voice, the pitch flying high above singing and into screeching. When Lash resumed his form, he was bitched that he’d just missed the fun and games…because it would have been worth seeing.

Grady was lying flat on his back with his pants wrenched down, bleeding from various places, most especially a fresh cut right across his esophagus. He was alive like a fly on the sill of a hot window, kinked arms and legs pinwheeling slowly.

Straightening up from a crouch was his killer: that butch bitch from ZeroSum. And unlike the dying fly, who was clueless to all but his own demise, she knew exactly when Lash came on the scene. She whipped around in a fighting stance, her face focused, the dripping knife in her hand steady, her thighs tight and ready to spring her hard body forward.

She was hot as fuck. Especially as she frowned in recognition.

“I thought you were dead,” she said. “And I thought you were a vampire.”

He smiled. “Surprise. And you’ve been keeping a secret of your own, haven’t you.”

“No, I never liked you, and that hasn’t changed.”

Lash shook his head and blatantly eyed her body. “You look really good in leather, you know that.”

“You’d look better in a body cast.”

He laughed. “Cheap shot.”

“So’s my target. Do the math.”

Lash smiled and, with some vivid images, fanned his attraction into a full-blown hard-on because he knew she would sense it: He pictured her down on her knees in front of him, his cock in her mouth, his hands clamped on her head as he fucked her mouth until she gagged.

Xhex rolled her eyes. “Cheap. Porn.”

“Nope. Future. Sex.”

“Sorry, I’m not into Justin Timberlake. Or Ron Jeremy.”

“We’ll see about that.” Lash nodded down at the human, whose writhing had slowed as if he were congealing in the cold. “So I’m afraid you owe me something.”

“If it’s a stab wound, I’m totally there.”

“That”-he pointed to Grady-“was mine.”

“You should upgrade your standards. That”-she echoed his stance-“is dog shit.”