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Heading out of town in Sally Forrester’s Accord, sporting a puss like a punching bag, he got nailed with a good shot of self-awareness that he didn’t appreciate. He’d always straddled that line between good and bad, had always been willing to bend the rules to suit his purposes. Hell, he’d cracked suspects around until they broke. Turned a blind eye on occasion if it would get him information on a case. Done drugs even after he’d joined the force—at least until he’d kicked his coke habit.

Only no-no’s had been accepting bribes or sexual favors in the line of duty.

So, yeah, guess those two made him a hero.

And what was he doing now? Going after a female whose life was already a mess. Just so he could join the shit parade that was marching all over her.

Except he couldn’t stop himself. After he’d called Marissa back on the phone over and over again, he’d been unable to keep himself from this road trip. Obsessed before, now he was possessed by her. He just had to see if she was all right and…well, hell, he was thinking maybe he could explain himself a little better.

There was one good thing, though. He truly seemed to be normal on the inside. Back at V’s lair, he’d given himself a fresh slice in the arm with a knife because, hand-job results notwithstanding, he’d had to check his blood. The stuff had been red, thank God.

He took a deep breath—and then frowned. Putting his nose down to his bicep, he inhaled again. What the hell was this? Even with the wind rushing around in the car, and even through his clothes, he could smell something and no, not the cloying baby powder bullshit, which had fortunately faded. Now there was something else coming out of him.

Christ. Lately, it was like his body was a Glade PlugIn that couldn’t make its mind up. But at least this spicy scent he liked—

Whoa. It couldn’t be…No, it wasn’t. Just wasn’t. Right?

Absolutely not. He took out his cell phone and hit speed dial. As soon as he heard V’s “hello,” he said, “Heads up, I’m coming in.”

There was a rasp and an inhale like Vishous had lit up. “I’m not surprised. But how are you getting here?”

“Sally Forrester’s Honda.”

“Whose?”

“No idea, I stole it. Look, I’m not pulling anything strange.” Yeah, right. “Well, the lesser kind of strange. I just need to see Marissa.”

There was a long silence. “I’ll let you in through the gates. Hell, the mhis has kept those slayers off this property for seventy years, so it’s not like they could track you here. And I don’t believe you’re coming after us. Unless I’ve got my head wedged?”

“Damn straight I’m not.”

Butch repositioned the Sox cap, and as his wrist passed by his nose, he got another whiff of himself. “Ah, V…listen, there is something a little weird going down with me.”

“What?”

“I smell like men’s cologne.”

“Good for you. Females dig that kind of thing.”

“Vishous, I smell like Obsession for Men, only I’m not wearing any, you feel me?”

There was silence on the line. Then, “Humans don’t bond.”

“Oh, really. You want to tell that to my central nervous system and my sweat glands? They’d appreciate the news flash, I’m sure.”

“You noticed it after you two were in that patient room together?”

“It’s been worse since then, but I thought I smelled something like it one other time.”

“When?”

“I watched her get into a car with a male.”

“How long ago?”

“Like three months. Palmed a Glock when I saw it happen.”

Silence. “Butch, humans do not bond like we do.”

“I know.”

More silence. Then, “Any chance you were adopted?”

“No. And there are no fangs in the family, if that’s what you’re thinking. V, man, I drank some of you. Are you sure that I haven’t become—”

“Genetics is the only way. That bite/turning thing’s just bullshit folklore. Look, I’ll let you through the gates and we’ll talk after you see her. Oh, and check it. Wrath has no problem working over lessers to find out what happened to you. But he doesn’t want you involved.”

Butch’s hand cranked hard on the steering wheel. “Fuck. That. I spent hours earning the right for payback, V. I bled for the right to knock