“You mean without someone attacking the house or trying to kill us just at the juicy parts? Been a while. Your ass is still spectacular.”
When had we ever had the time and the freedom to laugh together? Never.
Still sitting, I pulled on my robe too.
When we were both decent, Bruiser opened the door. “I’m bloody well starv—” He leaped back.
A man stood in the opening. I took him in a heartbeat.Stranger. Jeans. Tight T-shirt.Weapon in hand, I came to my feet. Two-hand stance, evaluating as I moved.
White hair. High-topped sneakers. No weapon.
Brute,Beast thought.
“Brute?” I lowered the weapon and straightened my finger from the trigger. “Holy crap on a cracker, you nearly got dead,” I said.“Brute?”
“I thought you wouldn’t recognize me,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “You only saw me maybe twice in human form and I was busy trying to kill you.”
Brute was standing there. Human-shaped Brute.
Had Beast not known the scent, I’d have shot him. Ihad no memory of the human form of the werewolf biker Brute had once been, except he’d been big as a firetruck. Redheaded? Maybe? Firetruck was the moniker I had put on him when I first saw him. Firetruck. Then Brute the werewolf. Now... a human?
Bruiser turned on a bedside lamp, revealing the man who had been in wolf form for years. This new Brute had no tats. No biker kutte. No weapons. No beard. He looked nothing like a werewolf biker dude with attitude. He didn’t even look human now.
Angel-touched,I thought.
His skin was a glistening golden, neither Caucasian nor a person of color, but gold-colored skin, as if he’d been dusted with gold dust. His hair was a shaggy white that rested on his shoulders. His face was all angles and planes, with cheekbones that looked sharp enough to cut. He hooked his thumbs into his skintight five-button jeans and let me look. His pale blue wolf eyes contrasted oddly with the gold skin but fit the white hair perfectly. Strong muscles and still as big as a brick shithouse. He looked kinda hot.
I remembered the angel’s words. Or God’s. Not sure about which, and either one still gave me the willies. “The curses are gone,” I said, paraphrasing the angel. “Hayyel said that, but I didn’t know it meant you too. You used to be redheaded. He left you with white hair, blue eyes,” I said, “and golden skin.”
“Yeah. I look nothin’ like I used to. It’s gonna be a bitch gettin’ ID but I figure the Montana pack can help me there.” He sounded southern. Maybe an Alabama boy.
“So what now?” I asked.
“Hell if I know. You’re the one who put all this shit into motion. I’m jist a big dumb biker until the full moon, then I’m jist a big dumb dog. Woof.” He laughed. “Best get dressed. There’s a big hoedown at Fanghead HQ tonight.”
“Hoedown?”
“Trying for the casual vernacular that makes me seem less menacing. Maybe keep people from shitting their pants when they meet me.”
“Not working. What happens at this hoedown?”
“The Dark Queen gets all gussied up and gives some speeches, crowns the new king, and then parties till dawn. Lots a liquor. Lots a food. And a good ol’ boy who ain’t gotten laid in too long to remember might get lucky.
“From what I hear, people are gettin’ lucky already over there. Rules have changed, the power has shifted, and vamps aren’t sure what to do about it. But the upshot is that humans are in charge of the feeding times now. I hear it’s interesting.” He chuckled and the vibration shook through my chest just the way Brute’s growls once had.
“Interesting how?” I asked.
“Interesting enough for the witches to move out, including Butterfly Lily and Feather Storm, and congregate at the Yellowrock Clan Home with the Everharts and the Truebloods. You don’t mind, Imma head over to HQ now and get nekkid too. Werewolves can’t give the taint to Fangheads, and I’ve been outta action for too damn long.”
“Ooookay. How about you tell them the Dark Queen will be there at ten p.m. and expects to see people dressed for the ceremony part of thehoedown.”
“Will do. Oh. Nearly forgot. Dude came by a couple hours ago. Said he was among the rescued from Mainet’s guards. His name is Reach and he owes you a boon.”
Brute closed the door and I heard him go out the front and into the rain. A moment later a motorbike throbbed into life, the distinctive note of a Harley. Not mine, so either he had his bike locked down all this time or he... bought one. Not stole. He’d been under Hayyel’s thumb long enough for the goodness to keep him honest. I hoped.
And Reach was free. That was good. I guess.
I tilted my head to my Consort as he sat down beside me. “I gotta get prettied up, which means I need a shower. You wanna...” I jerked my head at the queen’s bathroom.
