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Rhage mumbled something and curled into a ball.

Wrath flipped open his cell phone and dialed. “Vishous? We need a car. Now. You’re kidding me. No, I gotta move our boy. We just had a visit from his other side. But you tell Zsadist not to fuck around.”

He hung up and looked at Rhage.

“Hate this,” the brother said.

“I know.” Wrath moved the sticky, blood-soaked hair out of the vampire’s face. “We’re going to get you home.”

“Didn’t like seeing you shot.”

Wrath smiled softly. “Clearly.”

Beth stirred, burrowing deeper into the pillow.

Something wasn’t right.

She opened her eyes just as a deep male voice broke the silence. “What the fuck do we have here?”

She bolted upright. Looked frantically to the sound.

The man towering over her had black, lifeless eyes. A harsh face with a jagged scar running down it. Hair that was practically shaved it was so short. And long, white fangs that were bared.

She screamed.

He smiled. “My favorite sound in all the world.”

She clamped a hand over her mouth.

God, that scar. It ran down his forehead, over his nose, across his cheek, and back around to his mouth. The tail end of the S distorted his upper lip, pulling one side into a permanent sneer.

“Admiring my artwork?” he drawled. “You should see the rest of me.”

Her eyes darted to his broad chest. He was wearing a skintight, long-sleeved black shirt. On both his pecs, small rings were evident beneath the material, as if he had his nipples pierced. As she looked back up at his face, she saw he had a black band tattooed around his neck and a plug in his left earlobe.

“Pretty, aren’t I?” His cold stare was the stuff of nightmares, of dark places where no hope could be found, of hell itself.

Forget the scar, she thought. Those eyes were the scariest thing about him.

And they were fixated on her as if he were sizing her up for a shroud. Or for some sex.

She moved her body away from him. Started looking around for something she could use as a weapon.

“What, you don’t like me?”

Beth eyed the door, and he laughed.

“Think you can run fast enough?” he said, pulling the bottom of his shirt free from the leather pants he had on. His hands moved to his fly. “I’m damn sure you can’t.”

“Get away from her, Zsadist.”

Wrath’s voice was a sweet relief. Until she saw that he had no shirt on and his arm was in a sling.

He barely looked at her. “Time to go, Z.”

Zsadist smiled coldly. “Not willing to share the female?”

“You only like it if you pay for it.”

“So I’ll flip her a twenty. Assuming she lives through the sex.”

Wrath kept coming at the other vampire, until they stood nose-to-nose. The air crackled around them, supercharged by their aggression.

“You’re not touching her, Z. You’re not looking at her. You’re going to say good-night and walk the fuck out of here.” Wrath removed the sling, exposing a bandage on his biceps. There was a red blush in the center as if he were bleeding, but he looked ready to take on the other man.

“Bet you’re pissed you needed a ride home tonight,” Zsadist said. “And that I was the closest one with a car.”

“Don’t make me regret it more.”

Zsadist took a step to the left, and Wrath went with him, using his body to shield her.

Zsadist chuckled, a deep, evil rumble. “You’re actually willing to fight for a human?”

“She’s Darius’s daughter.”

Zsadist’s head snapped to the side, those black pits of his probing her features. After a moment, there was a subtle softening in his brutal face, a drop in the sneer. And then he made a point to tuck in his shirt while looking her in the eye. As if he were apologizing.

Wrath did not step off, however.

“What’s your name?” Zsadist asked her.

“Her name’s Beth.” Wrath put his head into the path of Zsadist’s vision. “And you’re leaving.”

There was a long pause.

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

Zsadist strode over to the door, moving with the same lethal prowl Wrath did. Before he left, he stopped and looked back.

He must have been truly handsome once, Beth thought. Although it wasn