J. Ward - Dark Lover

The news gave her a moment of pause. She couldn't have said what Wrath had been doing when he'd been out. But what possible purpose could a dead prostitute have for him?

Make that two dead prostitutes.

Anxiety spiked, making her temples throb.

Except she just couldn't see Wrath slitting some poor, defenseless woman's throat and leaving her to die in an alley. He was lethal, not evil. And though he operated outside of the law, she didn't imagine he'd take the life of someone who hadn't threatened him. Especially after what had happened to his parents.

"Listen, Beth," Jose said. "I don't need to tell you how serious this situation is. That man is our prime suspect for three murders, and obstruction of justice is a serious charge. It'll kill me, but I will put you behind bars."

"He didn't murder anyone last night." Her stomach rolled.

"So you admit you know where he is."

"I gotta go, Jose."

"Beth, please don't protect him. He's dangerous-"

"He did not kill those women."

"That's your opinion."

"You've been a good friend, Jose."

"Goddamn it." He added a couple of words in Spanish. "Get that lawyer fast, Beth."

She hung up the phone, grabbed her purse, and shut down her computer. The last thing she wanted was for Jose to come to her office and take her away in handcuffs. She needed to go home, pick up some clothes, and get to Wrath's as soon as she could.

Maybe they could just disappear together. It might be their only choice. Because sooner or later the police would find them in Caldwell.

As she walked out onto Trade Street, her belly was in knots, and the heat sucked the energy right out of her. The minute she walked into her apartment, she poured some ice-cold water into a glass, but as she tried to drink it, her intestines cramped up. Maybe she had a stomach bug. She popped two Turns and thought of Rhage. She might have picked up something from him.

God, her eyes were killing her.

And even though she knew she needed to start packing, she got out of her work clothes, put on a T-shirt and shorts, and sat down on the futon. She only meant to take a little breather, but once she was off her feet, she couldn't seem to get her body moving again.

Sluggishly, like the channels in her brain were clogging up, she pictured Wrath's injury. He'd never told her how he'd gotten hurt. What if he'd attacked the prostitute and the woman had fought back?

Beth pressed her fingers to her temples as a wave of nausea brought bile into her throat. Lights flickered in front of her eyes.

No, this wasn't the flu. She was coming down with the Godzilla of migraines.

Wrath dialed his phone again.

Tohrment was obviously using caller ID and avoiding his ass.

Hell . He sucked at apologies, but he really wanted to get this one out on the table. Because it was going to be a doozy.

He took the cell phone with him to bed and leaned back against the headboard. He wanted to call Beth. Just to hear her voice.

Yeah, and he'd thought he was just going to waltz away after her transition? He could barely stand being away from her for a couple of hours .

Man, he had it bad for that female. He couldn't believe what had come out of his mouth when she'd been making love to him. And then he'd topped off the simpering praise by calling her his leelan before she left.

He might as well admit it. He was probably falling in love.

And if that wasn't enough of a shocker, she was half-human. As well as Darius's daughter.

But how could he not adore her? She was so strong, with a will to match his own. He thought of her standing up to him, confronting him about his past. Few would have dared, and he knew where she got her courage from. Her father probably would have done the same thing.

When his cell phone went off, he flipped it open. "Yeah?"

"We got issues." It was Vishous. "I just read the paper. Another dead prostitute. In an alley. Bled out."

"So?"

"I hacked into the coroner's database. In both cases, the females had had their necks chewed on."

"Shit. Zsadist."

"That's what I'm thinking. I keep telling him he's got to pull back. You have to talk with him."

"Tonight. Tell the brothers to come here first. I'm going to set him straight in front of everyone."

"Good plan. Then the rest of us can peel your hands from his throat when he mouths off."

"Hey, you know where Tohr is? I can't reach him."

"No idea, but I'll go to his house on the way over to D's if you want."

"Do that. He needs to be here tonight." Wrath hung up.

Damn it . Someone was going to have to put a muzzle on Zsadist.

Or a dagger in his chest.

Butch let the car roll to a stop. He had no real hope Beth was going to be at the apartment, but he went to the lobby door and hit the buzzer anyway. No answer.

Surprise, surprise.

He walked around the side of the apartment building and through the courtyard. It was after dark, so he was not encouraged by her lights being off. He cupped his hands and leaned into the sliding glass door.

" Beth ! Oh, God! Sweet Jesus!"

Her body was facedown on the floor, one arm extended in front of her toward a phone that was just out of reach. Her legs were sprawled, as if she'd been writhing in pain.

" No !" He pounded on the glass.

She moved a little, as if she'd heard him.

Butch went over to a window, whipped off his shoe, and pushed his hand deep inside the sole. He punched at the glass until it cracked and then shattered. As he reached in to free the lock, he cut himself, but he didn't care if he lost an arm getting to her. He threw his body inside and knocked over a table as he lunged forward.

"Beth! Can you hear me?"

She opened her mouth. Worked it slowly. No words came out.

He looked for blood and found none, so he gingerly rolled her onto her back. She was pale as a grave marker, clammy, barely conscious. When she opened her eyes, her pupils were totally dilated.

He extended her arms, searching for track marks. There were none, but he wasn't about to waste time stripping off her shoes and checking between her toes.

Butch flipped open his cell phone and dialed 911.

When the service picked up, he didn't wait for the greeting. "I have a probable drug overdose."

Beth's hand fluttered up, and she started to shake her head. She was trying to bat the phone away.

"Baby, be still. I'm going to take care-"

The operator's voice cut him off. "Sir? Hello?"

"Take me to Wrath," Beth moaned.

"Fuck him."

"Excuse me?" the operator said. "Sir, can you tell me what's happening?"

"Drug overdose. I think it's heroin. Her pupils are fixed and dilated. She hasn't vomited yet-"

"Wrath, I need to go to Wrath."

"-but she's going in and out of consciousness-"

And then Beth jerked up from the floor and snatched the phone out of his hand. "I'm going to die…"

"The hell you are!" he yelled.

She gripped the front of his shirt. Her body shook, sweat staining the front of her T-shirt. "I need him."

Butch stared into her eyes.

He'd been wrong. So very wrong. This wasn't an OD. It was withdrawal.

He shook his head. "Baby, no."

" Please . I need him. Going to die." Suddenly, she jack-knifed into the fetal position, like a wave of pain had snapped her in half. The cell phone skittered out of her hand, out of reach. "Butch… please."

Fuck . She looked bad. As in death's-doorstep bad.

If he took her to an ER, she might die on the way over or while waiting to be treated. And methadone was meant to ease cravings, not pull an addict out of a free fall.

Fuck.

"Help me."

" Goddamn him," Butch said. "How far away?"