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Maybe.

She kissed Rhage’s hand and forced herself to step away. “I was going to take a shower. Will you sit with him while I’m gone?”

The vampire blinked as if she’d surprised him. “You gonna feel comfortable getting naked in that bathroom with me around?”

Not really.

She shrugged. “It’s your choice. But I’m sure if he wakes up, he’d rather see you than be alone.”

“You’re going to turn the lights out on me then?”

“Are you coming or going?” When he didn’t reply, she said, “Tonight must have been hell for you.”

His distorted upper lip jerked into a snarl. “You’re the only one who’s ever assumed I don’t get off hurting people. Are you the Mother Teresa type? All into seeing the good in big, wounded things or some shit?”

“You didn’t volunteer for that scar on your face, did you? And I’m willing to bet you’ve got more below your jawline. So like I said, tonight must have been hell.”

His eyes narrowed into slits, and a cold gust blew through the room, as if he’d pushed the air at her. “Careful, female. Courage can be dangerous.”

She walked right up to him. “You know what? The whole shower thing is mostly a lie. I was trying to let you have some alone time with him, because it’s obvious you’re feeling bad or you wouldn’t be standing in that doorway looking so damned torn. Take the offer or leave, but either way, I’d appreciate it if you don’t try to scare me.”

At this point, she didn’t care if he lashed out at her. Then again, she was running on nervous energy and the buzz that came with exhaustion, so she probably wasn’t thinking clearly.

“So what’s it going to be?” she demanded.

The vampire stepped inside and shut the door, the room growing colder with him in it. His menace was a tangible thing, and it reached out, brushing over her body like hands. As the lock slid into place with a click, she became afraid.

“I’m not trying,” he said in a satin drawl.

“What?” she choked out.

“To scare you. You are scared.” He smiled. His fangs were very long, longer than Rhage’s. “I can smell your fear, female. Like wet paint, it tingles in the nose.”

As Mary backed away, he came forward, tracking her.

“Hmm…and I like your scent. Liked it from the moment I first met you.”

She moved faster, putting out her hand, hoping to feel the bed at any moment. Instead she got tangled in some of the heavy drapes by a window.

The scarred vampire cornered her. He didn’t carry as much muscle on his bones as Rhage did, but there was no doubt he was lethal. His cold eyes told her all she needed to know about his ability to kill.

With a curse, Mary put her head down and surrendered. She could do nothing if he hurt her, and neither could Rhage in his condition. Damn it, she hated being helpless, but sometimes that was where life put you.

The vampire leaned down to her and she cringed.

He breathed in deeply and his exhale was a long sigh.

“Take your shower, female. I had no desire to hurt him earlier in the night, and nothing’s changed. And I’ve got no interest in pulling a nasty on you, either. If anything happened to you, he’d be in greater agony than he’s in now.”

She sagged as he turned away, and she caught his wince as he looked at Rhage.

“What is your name?” she murmured.

He cocked an eyebrow at her and then went back to staring at his brother. “I’m the evil one, in case you haven’t figured it out.”

“I wanted your name, not your calling.”

“Being a bastard’s more of a compulsion, really. And it’s Zsadist. I am Zsadist.”

“Well…it’s nice to meet you, Zsadist.”

“So polite,” he mocked.

“Okay, how about this. Thank you for not killing him or me just now. That real enough for you?”

Zsadist glanced over his shoulder. His eyelids were like window blinds, allowing only slits of cold night to shine through. And with his skull-trimmed hair and that scar, he was the personification of violence: aggression, and pain anthropomorphized. Except as he looked at her through the candlelight, the slightest hint of warmth came through his face. It was so subtle she couldn’t define quite how she knew it was there.

“You,” he