J. Ward - Lover Avenged

“Deal.”

When their palms met, the other female’s grip was strong and steady. Which, considering everything they were contemplating, boded well for how Ehlena would hold on to the butt of a gun.

“We’re going to get him out,” Ehlena breathed.

“God help us.”

Okay, here’s the deal, George. You see these fuckers? They’re trouble, straight-up trouble. I know we’ve done this a couple of times, but let’s not get cocky.”

As Wrath tapped the bottom step of the mansion’s staircase with his shitkicker, he pictured the stretch of red-carpeted on-your-ass going all the way up from the foyer to the second floor. “Good news is? You can see what you’re doing. Bad news is? I go down and there’s a risk I might take you with me. Not what we’re looking for.”

He absently stroked the dog’s head. “Shall we?”

He gave the forward signal and started stepping up. George stuck right with him, the dog’s slight roll of the shoulder transmitted through the handle as they ascended. At the top, George paused.

“Study,” Wrath said.

Together, they walked straight ahead. When the dog stopped again, Wrath oriented himself by the sound of the crackling in the fireplace and was able to walk with the dog over to the desk. As soon as he sat down in the new chair, George took a seat as well, right next to him.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Vishous said from the doorway.

“Tough shit.”

“Tell me you want us in with you.”

Wrath ran his hand down George’s flank. God, the dog’s fur was soft. “Not at first.”

“You sure?” Wrath let his raised eyebrow speak for itself. “Yeah, okay. Fine. But I’m going to be right outside the door the whole time.”

And V wasn’t going to be alone, no doubt. When the call to Bella’s phone had come through in the middle of Last Meal, it had been a surprise: Everyone who could have been hitting her up was in the room. She’d answered the ring, and after a long silence, Wrath had heard a chair get pushed back and soft footsteps approach him.

“It’s for you,” she had said in a tremulous voice. “It’s…Xhex.”

Five minutes later, he’d agreed to see Rehvenge’s second in command, and though nothing specific had been discussed, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why the female had called and what she was going to want. After all, Wrath wasn’t just king, he was gatekeeper to the Brotherhood.

Who all thought Wrath was nuts to see her, but that was the great thing about being the ruler of the race: You could do what you wanted.

Down below, the vestibule’s door opened and Fritz’s voice echoed up as he escorted the two guests into the mansion. The old butler was not alone as he came in with the females, having himself been escorted by Rhage and Butch when he took the Mercedes out for the pickup.

Voices and many feet came up the stairs.

George tensed, his haunches pulling up, his breathing changing subtly.

“It’s okay, my man,” Wrath murmured to him. “We’re cool.”

The dog eased immediately, which made Wrath look over at the animal even though he couldn’t see anything. Something about that unconditional trust was…very nice.

The knock on the door brought his head back around. “Enter.”

His first sense of Xhex and Ehlena was that they emitted grim purpose. His second was that Ehlena, who was on the right, was particularly nervous.

Going by the slight shifting of clothes, he imagined they were bowing to him, and the pair of “Your Highness” es that came his way confirmed the intuition.

“Take a seat,” he said. “And I want everyone else out of this room.”

None of his brothers dared to throw out a grumble, because the protocol button had been punched: If they were around outsiders, they treated him as their sovereign lord and king. Which meant no fucking around and no insubordination.

Maybe they needed visitors more often in the fucking house.

When the doors were shut, Wrath said, “Tell me why you’re here.”

In the pause that followed, he imagined the females were probably looking back and forth at each other to decide who went first.

“Let me guess,” he cut in. “Rehvenge is alive, and you want to get him out of the shithole.”

As Wrath, son of Wrath, spoke, Ehlena wasn’t at all surprised the king knew what they’d come for. Sitting on the other side of a delicate and lovely desk, he was exactly what she remembered from when he’d nearly plowed her down back at the clinic: both cruel and smart, a leader in his physical and mental prime.

This was a male who knew how the real world worked. And was used to having the kind of muscle you needed to get hard things done.

“Yes, my lord,” she said. “That’s what we want.”

His black wraparounds shifted over to her. “So you’re the nurse from Havers’s clinic. Who turned out to be Montrag’s kin.”

“I am, yes.”

“Mind if I ask how you got involved in this sitch?”

“It’s personal.”

“Ah.” The king nodded. “Got it.”

Xhex spoke up, her voice grave and respectful. “He did a good thing for you. Rehvenge did a very good thing for you.”

“You don’t have to remind me. It’s the reason you two are sitting here in my home.”

Ehlena glanced over at Xhex, trying to read in the female’s face what they were referring to. She got nothing. Not a surprise.

“Here’s my question,” Wrath said. “We bring him back, how are we going to get around the e-mail that came in to us? He said it was nothing, but clearly he lied. Someone from up north threatened to ID your boy, and if he gets loose…that trigger’s going to be pulled.”

Xhex spoke up. “I will personally guarantee that the individual who made that threat will not be able to use a laptop after I’m through with her.”

“Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice.”

As the king smiled and drawled out the word, he leaned to the side and seemed to be stroking…With a start, Ehlena realized there was a golden retriever seated next to him, the dog’s head just barely peeking up over the top of the desk. Wow. Odd choice of breed, in a way, as the king’s companion was as kind-looking and approachable as its owner was not-and yet Wrath was gentle with the animal, his big, broad palm moving down its back slowly.

“Is that the only hole that needs to be plugged in his identity?” the king asked. “If that leak is eliminated are there any other parties who could threaten to expose him?”

“Montrag is good and dead,” Xhex murmured. “And I can’t think of anyone else who would know. Of course, the symphath king could come after him, but you can stop that. Rehv is one of your subjects as well.”

“Damn fucking straight, and let’s hear it for the whole ‘possession is nine-tenths of the law’ thing.” Wrath’s smile returned briefly. “Besides, the leader of the symphaths is not going to want to fuck with me, because if I get testy, I could take away his happy little home up there in freeze-your-nuts-off territory. He’s under my privilege, as they used to say in the Old Country, which means he rules only because I let him.”

“So are we going to do this?” Xhex asked.

There was a long silence, and as they waited for the king to speak, Ehlena looked around the pretty, French-inspired room to avoid Wrath’s eyes. She didn’t want him to know how anxious she was, and was afraid her face reflected weakness: She was totally out of her element here, sitting before the race’s leader, presenting a plan that involved going into the very heart of an incredibly dark place. But she couldn’t risk his doubting her or excluding her, because no matter how nervous she was, she wasn’t backing down. Fear didn’t mean you turned away from a goal. Hell, if she believed that, her father would be institutionalized right now, and she might well have ended up as her mother had.