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V looked down into his glass and slowly shook his head.

“He’d die before giving us up. I guarantee it.” He swallowed the vodka and felt it slide down his throat. “My man is good like that.”

Chapter Five

Rehvenge had not seemed at all surprised when she called him, Marissa thought. But then, he’d always had this uncanny way of reading her.

Gathering up her black cloak, she stepped out the back of her brother’s mansion. Night had just fallen, and she shivered, though not because of the cold. It was that horrible dream she’d had during the day. She’d been flying, flying across the landscape, flying over a frozen pond with pines on its far side, going farther past a ring of trees, until she’d slowed and peered downward. On the snowy ground, curled up and bleeding, she saw…Butch.

The urge to call the Brotherhood lingered as much as the images of the nightmare did. Except how stupid would she feel when the warriors called back all annoyed, just to tell her he was perfectly fine? They’d probably think she was stalking him. Except, God…that vision of him bleeding into the white-covered earth, that picture of him, helpless in the fetal position, haunted her.

It was only a dream, though. Merely…a dream.

Closing her eyes, she forced herself into a semblance of calm and dematerialized downtown to the terrace of a penthouse apartment some thirty stories up. As soon as she took form, Rehvenge slid open one of six glass doors.

He immediately frowned. “You’re upset.”

She forced a smile as she went over to him. “You know I’m always a little uncomfortable.”

He pointed his gold engraved cane at her. “No, this is different.”

God, she’d never known anyone so in tune with her emotions. “I’ll be fine.”

As he took her elbow and pulled her inside, a tropical warmth embraced her. Rehv always had the temperature this high, and his floor length sable coat always stayed on until they got to the couch. She had no idea how he could stand the heat, but he seemed to crave it.

He shut the slider. “Marissa, I want to know what’s doing.”

“Nothing, really.”

With a twist, she took off her cloak and draped it on a chrome-and-black chair. Three sides of the penthouse were made up of sheets of glass, and the sprawling view of Caldwell’s two halves included the shimmering lights of downtown, the dark curve of the Hudson River, the stars over it all. Unlike the twinkling landscape, though, the decor was minimalist, all ebony and cream elegance…rather like Rehv, with his black mohawk and his golden skin and his perfect clothes.

Under different circumstances, she would have adored the penthouse.

Under different circumstances, she might have adored him.

Rehv’s violet eyes narrowed as he leaned on his cane and came to her. He was a huge male, built like a Brother, and he had looming down pat, his handsome face hard. “Don’t lie to me.”

She smiled slightly. Males like him tended to be very protective, and though the two of them were not mated, she wasn’t surprised he seemed ready to hunt something down on her behalf. “I had a disturbing dream this morning and haven’t shaken it off yet. That’s all.”

As he measured her, she had the oddest sense he was sifting through her emotions, examining how they interconnected from the inside.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

She reached out with no hesitation. He always observed the glymera’s formalities, and he hadn’t yet greeted her as custom required. Except when their palms met, he didn’t brush his lips across her knuckles. He put his thumb over her wrist and pushed down a little. Then even harder. Suddenly, as if he’d opened up some kind of drain, her feelings of fear and worry tunneled down her arm and out to him, pulled through by the contact.

“Rehvenge?” she whispered weakly.

The instant he let her go, the emotions came back, a wellspring no longer tapped.

“You won’t be able to be with me tonight.”

She flushed and rubbed the skin where he’d touched her. “Of course I will. It’s…time.”

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