• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Throwing out the drawing, he left his room, suddenly frightened of being alone.

As he stepped out into the corridor, he nearly plowed over Fritz. The butler leaped back in time, protecting a bowl of . . . peas? Peas in water?

Cormia’s constructions, Phury thought as what was in the doggen’s arms sloshed around.

Fritz smiled in spite of the near miss, his wrinkled, rubbery face pulling into a happy grin. “If you are looking for the Chosen Cormia, she is in the kitchen, taking her Last Meal with Zsadist.”

Z? What the hell was she doing with Z? “They’re together?”

“I believe the sire wished to speak with her privately about Bella. That is why I am doing chores elsewhere in the house at the moment.” Fritz frowned. “Are you all right, sire? May I get you anything?”

How about a head transplant? “No, thanks.”

The doggen bowed and went into Cormia’s room, just as voices drifted up from the foyer. Phury went to the balcony and leaned over the gold-leafed rail.

Wrath and Doc Jane were at the foot of the stairs, and Jane’s ghostly expression was as strident as her voice.

“—ultrasound technology. Look, I know it’s not ideal, because you don’t like people on the grounds, but we don’t have a choice here. I went to the clinic, and not only will they not accept him, they demanded to know where he was.”

Wrath shook his head. “Christ, we can’t just bring him—”

“Yes, we can. Fritz can pick him up in the Mercedes. And before you argue with that, you’ve had those trainees coming to the compound every week since last December. He won’t know where he is. And as for the glymera shit, no one needs to know he’s here. He could die, Wrath. And I don’t want that on John’s conscience, do you?”

The king cursed long and low and glanced around, as if his eyes needed something to do while his head churned over the sitch. “Fine. Arrange for the pickup with Fritz. The kid can have the test and the operation, if need be, in the PT suite, but then he has to be transported back out ASAP. I don’t give a rat’s ass about the glymera’s opinions, what I’m worried about is precedent. We can’t become a hotel.”

“Understood. And listen, I’m going to want to help Havers out. It’s too much for him to set up the new clinic and care for patients. Thing is, it’s going to involve some days off-site for me.”

“Vishous okay with that security risk?”

“Not his call, and I’m telling you only out of courtesy.” The female laughed dryly. “Don’t give me that look. I’m already dead. It’s not like the lessers can kill me again.”

“That is so not funny.”

“Gallows humor is part of having a doctor in the house. Deal with it.”

Wrath barked a laugh. “You are such a hard-ass. No wonder V fell for you.” The king grew serious. “But let’s be perfectly clear. Hard-ass or not, I’m in charge here. This compound and everyone in it is my deal.”

The female smiled. “God, you remind me of Manny.”

“Who?”

“My old boss. Chief of surgery at St. Francis. The two of you would get along beautifully. Or . . . maybe not.” Jane reached out and put her transparent hand on the king’s thick, tattooed forearm. As the contact was made, she became solid from head to toe. “Wrath, I’m not stupid, and I’m not going to do anything precipitous. You and I want the same thing, which is for everybody to be safe—and that includes members of the species who don’t live here. I’m never going to work for you, or anybody else, because that’s not my nature. But I’m sure as hell going to work with you, okay?”

Wrath’s smile was full of respect, and he nodded once, the closest the king ever came to a bow. “I can live with that.”

As Jane took off in the direction of the underground tunnel, Wrath looked up at Phury.

He said nothing.

“That Lash you were talking about?” Phury asked, hoping the kid had been found or something.

“Nope.”

Phury waited for a name. When the king just turned and hit the stairs, his long, calm stride eating up the distance two steps at a time, it was clear none was coming.

Brotherhood business,