Xcor never saw it coming. Never heard a thing.

One moment, he was fully cognizant of his environs.

And the next, someone or something had done unto him what he had wrought upon that human on the roof.

He didn’t even have time for a last thought, so decisive was the blow to his head.

Vishous lowered his arm slowly as he stared down at the massive male who had just collapsed at his shitkickers.

Then he immediately brought his gun back up, two-handing the thing and moving it in a circle around himself.

“Where ya boys at, true?” he said under his breath. “Huh, motherfuckers? Where you at?”

There was no way Xcor, head of the Band of Bastards, had come here alone. No fucking way.

V just wasn’t that lucky.

Except nothing came at him. No one counter-attacked. Nobody ran out from a building or from behind a tree with a gun up, shooting. All there was were slayer parts and torsos on the ground, the cold wind hitting him in the face, and a whole lot of quiet.

The sound of a whistle over on the left alerted him to Butch’s position. And then there was another from the right. A third from way up ahead.

V whistled back and his brothers came jogging over.

He kept his eyes on Tohr, and as soon as the fighter was within range, V pointed his gun directly at that leather-clad chest. “Stop. Right there.”

Tohr pulled up short. Lifted his palms. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Butch, roll him over,” V gritted, nodding to the vampire at his feet.

The instant Tohr saw who it was, his hands dropped and his fangs got good and bared.

“Now do you get it,” V muttered. “I know it’s your right to kill him, but you can’t. Do we understand each other. You’re not going to off him here, true.”

Tohrment growled. “That’s not your call to make, V. Fuck you, that fucker is mine—”

“I will fucking shoot you. Are we clear? Stop right there.”

Apparently, the Brother wasn’t aware of having stepped forward. But Butch and everyone else caught it right away—and the cop approached Tohr cautiously.

“The kill can be yours,” Butch said. “But we take him back with us first. We talk to the bastard, get the intel—then he’s yours, Tohr. No one else is going to do the final deed but you.”

Phury nodded. “V’s right. You kill him now, we lose the interrogation. Be logical about this, Tohr.”

Vishous glanced around. The four of them had returned to the campus with the idea of stabbing as much as they could back to the Omega and doing what clean-up they were able—but this little discovery changed that immediate goal.

“Butch, you drive him back in the Hummer. Now.” V shook his head at Tohr. “And no, you’re not going with him as back-up.”

“You got me all wrong,” Tohr said grimly.

“Do I? Are you aware you have a dagger in your hand? No?” As his brother looked down with some surprise, V shook his head. “Don’t think I’m the one with the head wedge. You stay with us, Tohr. The cop’s got this.”

“I’m calling in Qhuinn and Blay,” Butch said as he got out his phone. “I want them with me.”

“And this is why I love you,” V muttered as he kept his eye on Tohr.

The Brother hadn’t put the dagger away yet. And that was fine. Soon as Xcor was on the way out, V was going to make sure that Tohr got to put that murderous impulse to good use.

A moment later, Blay and Qhuinn materialized onto the scene, and both of them cursed when they saw the ugly, scarred face that was staring up sightlessly from the out-cold body.

Butch made quick work of handcuffing Xcor, and then he and Qhuinn footed-and-handed the bastard, carrying him like a sack of potatoes toward the bulletproof, black-on-black Hummer that had been parked behind one of the classrooms. The nasty-looking machine was actually Qhuinn’s second version of the SUV, the first having been stolen when he’d hysloped it in front of a drugstore the previous winter.

V didn’t move a muscle until he saw that the damn thing was headed off the property at pedal-to-the-metal speed.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he said to Tohr. “I just don’t—”

Vishous shut up. And went motionless again.

“What is that?” Phury asked.

V had no clue. And that was not good. The only thing he was sure of was that the landscape had abruptly changed in some subtle yet undeniable way, a wave of buffering extending out over the bodies of the slain like a shadow had been cast over the campus.

“Shit,” Vishous hissed. “The Omega is coming!”

Beauty was in the ears of the beholder.

As Rhage ran his hands up and down Mary’s thighs, he might have been blind, but he knew exactly how gorgeous his shellan was as she sat on his hips and balanced her weight on the palms she’d planted on his pecs.

“So what’s it going to be?” he prompted as he rolled his pelvis.

With his erection stroking her core, even through the bed covers and the slacks she was wearing, her reply was husky.

“How can I ever,” she whispered, “say no to you?”

God, those words . . . and even more than that, her voice. They made him think of the first night he’d met her. It had been down here in the training center, right after the beast had made an appearance. He’d been blind then, too, and walking down the corridor, looking for a workout to distract him from his recovery boredom. She had come to their facility with John Matthew and Bella, as an interpreter for the boy who’d been mute and needed ASL to communicate.

The second she had spoken to him, her voice had chained him sure as if every syllable she’d uttered had come with steel links. He’d known that moment he was going to have her.

Of course, at the time, he hadn’t planned on her being the love of his life. But his bonding had had other ideas, and thank God for that.

Thank God, too, that she’d been willing to have him.

“Come here, my Mary—”

She shifted to one side. “But I’m hooking you back up the instant you finish.”

Rhage smiled so wide, his front teeth got a chill. “Fine by me—wait, what? Where are you going?”

Even with his protests, Mary didn’t stop what turned out to be a full on dismount, not just an unplug.

“We need to keep this partially discreet.” The beeping stopped. “And I’m serious about putting that thing back to work.”

Twisting to the side, he reached out in his blindness, grabbing for her waist and pulling her back in his direction. “Come here—”

All thought ended as he felt her hand on top of the covers . . . right over his cock.

The sound that boiled up out of him was part mmmmmm and part moan. Her touch, even distilled through the blankets, was enough to kick-start his heart, soft-boil his blood, overheat his skin with a delicious tingle.

And leave him a thin inch away from an orgasm.

The hospital bed’s mattress shifted as she stretched out next to him, and her palm moved under the sheet, traveling oh, so very downward. Spreading his legs to give her all the access she wanted, he arched his head back and bowed his spine toward the heavens as she gripped his erection. Shouting her name, he felt the beast surge as well, the dragon riding the crest of pleasure along with him, while still staying leashed.

As if it had learned its good manners.

“My Mary . . .” And then he gasped. “Oh, yeah.”

She started stroking him nice and slow, and it was strange the way she affected him. The sex made him feel so powerful, so male, so fucking juiced that he wondered how his flesh managed to contain the great roar of erotic heat . . . and yet she was the master of all of him and the entirety of his reaction, utterly in control, dominating him in ways that made him totally weak before her.

And goddamn that was sexy.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said in a thick voice. “Oh, look at you, Rhage . . .”