J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [482]
Are you sure we should be going out? John signed. You look sick.
Tohr hesitated before starting the station wagon, all the while rubbing his chest under his leather jacket. “Oh, yeah, no. I’ll be fine. It’s no big deal.”
Butch watched Havers go to work on Phury, the doctor’s hands steady and sure as they removed the bandage.
Phury was clearly not charmed about his role as patient. Sitting on top of the examination table, his shirt off, his huge body dominating the little room, he had a glower on him like an ogre. Right out of the Brothers Grimm.
“This hasn’t healed as it should,” Havers pronounced. “You said you were hurt last night, correct? So this should all be scar tissue. Instead it’s barely closed.”
Butch shot Phury a big old I-told-you-so stare.
The Brother mouthed back, Bite me, then muttered, “It’s okay.”
“No, sire, it’s not. When was the last time you fed?”
“I don’t know. A while.” Phury craned around and looked at the wound. He frowned, as though he were surprised by how bad it looked.
“You need to feed.” The doctor ripped open a gauze pack and covered the slice. After he taped the thick white square in place, he said, “And you should do it tonight.”
Havers snapped off his gloves, stuffed them in a biohazard container, and made a note in his chart. He hesitated by the door. “Is there someone you could go to now?”
Phury shook his head while he put on his shirt. “I’ll deal with it. Thanks, Doc.”
When they were alone, Butch said, “Where’m I taking you, big man?”
“Downtown. Time to hunt.”
“Yeah, right. You heard the man with the stethoscope. Or do you think he was playing you?”
Phury slid off the exam table, his shitkickers landing with a boom. He turned away, going for his dagger holster.
“Look, cop, it takes time for me to get someone lined up,” he said. “Because I’m not…because of the way I am, I only like to go to certain females, and I have to talk with them first. You know, see if they’re willing to let me take their vein. Celibacy is complicated.”
“Then you make the calls now. You’re in no shape to fight, and you know it.”
“So use me.”
Butch and Phury both wheeled toward the doorway. Bella was standing in it.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she said. “The door was open and I was walking by. My, ah…brother just left.”
Butch glanced at Phury. The male was still as a photograph.
“What’s changed?” Phury asked in a voice that had gone hoarse.
“Nothing. I still want to help you. So I’m giving you another opportunity to accept.”
“You couldn’t have gone through it twelve hours ago.”
“Yes, I could have. You were the one who said no.”
“You would have wept through the whole thing.”
Whoa. This was way personal.
Butch eased over to the door. “I’ll go wait out—”
“Stay, cop,” Phury said. “If you don’t mind.”
Butch cursed and looked around. There was a chair right next to the exit. He lowered his butt into it and tried to make like an inanimate object.
“Did Zsadist—”
Bella cut Phury’s question off. “This is about you. Not him.”
There was a long silence. And then the air was permeated by something like dark spices, the scent emanating from Phury’s body.
As if the fragrance were an answer of some kind, Bella came into the room, shut the door, and started to roll up her sleeve.
Butch glanced at Phury and saw that the guy was trembling, his eyes glowing like the sun, his body…Well, he was obviously getting aroused, put it like that.
Okay, time to go…
“Cop, I need you to stay while we do this.” Phury’s voice was more like a growl.
Butch groaned, even though he knew damn well why the Brother wouldn’t want to be alone with that female right now. He was throwing off erotic heat like a stallion.
“Butch?”
“Yeah, I’ll stay.” Even though he wasn’t going to watch. No way. For some reason that seemed like being on the fifty-yard line while Phury had sex.
With a curse, Butch leaned onto his knees, put his hand up to his forehead, and