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As she patted down the lower left section of bandages, Rhage jerked. She glanced at him. “Did I hurt you?”

“Funny question.”

“I’m sorry?”

His eyes flipped open, his stare hard. “You don’t even know, do you?”

Clearly not. “Rhage, what do you need?”

“For you to talk to me.”

“Okay. Let me finish here.”

As soon as she was done, she opened up the book. He cursed.

Confused, she reached for his hand. “I don’t know what you want.”

“It’s not that tough to figure out.” His voice was weak but indignant. “Christ, Mary, can you at least once let me in?”

There was a knock across the room. They both glared at the sound.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

When she opened the door, the man with the goatee was on the other side. He had a silver tray weighed down with food balanced on one hand.

“I’m Vishous, by the way. Is he awake?”

“Hey, V,” Rhage said.

Vishous walked right past her and put the meal on the dresser. As he headed for the bed, she wished she were as big as he was so she could keep him out of the room.

The guy propped his hip on the side of the mattress. “How you doing, Hollywood?”

“I’m okay.”

“Pain fading yet?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re healing up good.”

“Can’t happen fast enough for me.” Rhage closed his eyes in exhaustion.

Vishous stared down at him for a moment, lips drawn thin. “I’ll come back later, my brother. All right?”

“Thanks, man.”

The guy turned around and met her eyes, which couldn’t have been easy. At the moment, she was wishing he had a taste of the pain he’d inflicted. And she knew the desire for vengeance was showing in her face.

“Tough cookie, aren’t you?” Vishous murmured.

“If he’s your brother, why did you hurt him?”

“Mary, don’t,” Rhage cut in hoarsely. “I told you—”

“You told me nothing.” She squeezed her eyes shut. It was not fair to yell at him when he was flat on his back with a chest that looked like a grid map.

“Maybe we should just let it all out,” Vishous said.

Mary crossed her arms over her chest. “Now there’s an idea. Why don’t you tell me the whole damn thing? Help me understand why you did this to him.”

Rhage spoke up. “Mary, I don’t want you to—”

“So tell me. If you don’t want me to hate them, then explain this to me.”

Vishous looked over to the bed, and Rhage must have nodded or shrugged, because the man said, “He betrayed the Brotherhood to be with you. He had to make amends if he wanted to stay with us and keep you here.”

Mary stopped breathing. This was all for her? Because of her?

Oh, God. He’d allowed himself to be whipped raw for her….

I’ll make it safe for you, how about that?

She had absolutely no context for this kind of sacrifice. For the pain he was enduring for her. For what had been done to him by people who supposedly cared for him.

“I can’t…I feel a little light-headed. Will you excuse…”

She backed away, hoping to stumble into the bathroom, but Rhage struggled up on the bed, as if he were going to come after her.

“No, you stay there, Rhage.” She went back to him, sitting down in the chair and stroking his hair. “Stay where you are. Shh…Easy, big man.”

When he’d relaxed a little, she looked at Vishous. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Why would you?”

The vampire’s eyes were steady on hers, the silver depths somehow frightening. She focused on the tattoo that bled out onto his face for a moment and then glanced at Rhage. She brushed his hair with her fingertips and murmured until he slid back into sleep.

“Did it hurt you to do this to him?” she demanded softly, knowing Vishous hadn’t left. “Tell me it hurt you.”

She heard a whispering of cloth. When she glanced over her shoulder, Vishous had taken off his shirt. On his muscular chest there was a fresh wound, a slice, as if a blade had cut into his skin.

“It killed each one of us.”

“Good.”

The vampire smiled rather fiercely. “You understand us better than you think. And that food is not just for him when he wants it. I brought it for you, too.”

Yeah, well, she didn’t want anything from them. “Thank you. I’ll see that he eats.”

Vishous paused on his way out. “Have