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Which used to be yours, the wizard was kind enough to point out. Until you lost your napper.

“I was coming to find you,” Phury lied, going over to his king and deciding that an unofficial report about what had happened at the clinic was clearly unnecessary by this time. “There are a couple of Chosen who are going to be stopping by here. They’re coming to see me.”

The king’s brows sank behind his wraparounds. “So you completed the ceremony with Cormia, huh. Shouldn’t you be seeing the females over on the Other Side?”

“I will soon enough.” Shit, wasn’t that the truth.

Wrath crossed his arms over his heavy chest. “I heard you manned up at the clinic tonight. Thanks for that.”

Phury swallowed hard.

When you were a Brother, you were never thanked by the king for what you did, because you were just carrying out your duty and your job and your birthright. You might get an attaboy for kicking ass, or some awkward, testosterone-scrambled sympathy if you got cracked and were hurt . . . but you were never thanked.

Phury cleared his throat. He couldn’t get you’re welcome out, so he just murmured, "Z was on top of everything . . . and so was Rehv, who happened to be there.”

“Yeah, I’m going to thank Rehvenge as well.” Wrath turned toward the study. “That symphath is proving useful.”

Phury watched the double doors slowly close, the pale blue room beyond getting shut out of his sight.

As he himself turned to go, he caught sight of the majestic ceiling of the foyer, those warriors so proud and true.

Now he was a lover, not a fighter, wasn’t he.

Aye, the wizard said. And I bet you’ll be just as bad at the sex. Now go run along and find Cormia and tell her how you like her so much you’re benching her. Look into her eyes and tell her that you’re going to fuck her sisters. All of them. Every one of them.

Except her.

And tell yourself you’re doing the right thing by her as you break her heart. Because that is the reason you’re running. You have seen the way she looks at you and you know that she loves you and you are a coward.

Tell her. Tell her everything.

As the wizard started on a true roll, Phury took the stairs down to the first floor, went into the billiards room, and picked up a bottle of Martini & Rossi vermouth and a bottle of Beefeater gin. He grabbed a jar of olives, a martini glass, and ...

The box of toothpicks made him think of Cormia.

Heading upstairs again, he was still afraid to be alone, but he was equally afraid of being around anyone else.

The only thing he knew was that there was one surefire way of shutting down the wizard, and he was going to work that plan.

Until he passed the fuck out.

Chapter Twenty-three

For the most part, Rehv didn’t like staying in the studio behind his office at ZeroSum. After a night like tonight, though, he wasn’t up for driving out of the city to the safe house where his mother stayed, and his penthouse at the Commodore, with its glass-fronted views, was so not an option.

Xhex had been picked him up from the clinic, and on the way back to the club he’d gotten grilled pretty damn good as to why he hadn’t called her in for the fighting. But come on, he’d said to her, another half-breed symphath in the mix?

Yeah, right. Besides, clinics made her jumpy as hell.

After he’d filled her in on the infiltration, he’d lied and said Havers had given him a look-see and some drugs. She’d known he was talking out of his ass about his arm, but thank fuck it was too close to dawn for them to get into a knock-down-drag-out. Sure, she could have stayed around and continued to argue with him, but Xhex always had to get back to her place. Always.

To the point that he wondered what exactly was waiting at home for her. Or who.

Walking into his bathroom, he kept his sable on even though the dial on the thermostat was cranked all the way up to fireplace. As he got the shower’s heat rolling, he thought about what had gone down at the clinic and found that it had been tragically energizing. Fighting to him was like a Tom Ford suit: a perfect fit and something he could sport