“I have a bad habit of cleaning up after my cousin. So of course, it was a yes. I figured you”—he glanced at Butch—“would be witnessing the transition if it comes for her. You and Manny, that is. No matter what Syn’s saying, you two are in charge. She’s an unmated female, and you’re her closest male relations. It’s ultimately your choice.”
Butch stared at the guy with fresh eyes. Funny how you considered a male differently when he was going to get close to your sister.
The only opinion he’d ever had about Balz was that you wanted to chain your wallet when he was around—preferably inside your pants. Other than that? The fighter was brutal in the field, quick with the snark, and you had to respect the way he looked after that loose cannon cousin of his. So all the way around, he was a good addition to the roster.
Now, though, Butch thought the Bastard was a little too good-looking. Too well-built. Too well used—and by that, he was not talking about in-the-field hours.
More in-the-sheets was what he was thinking.
“You will witness it,” Balz repeated. “Nothing will happen other than her at my wrist. I swear on my grandmahmen—who is the only female I have ever honored.”
As the Bastard looked over, his eyes did not waver. And after a tense moment, Butch found himself nodding.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll consent. Have you talked with Manny about this?”
“I figured I’d start with you.”
“Tell Manny it’s okay with me—but he and I will both be there, so you need his permission, too.”
“Of course. I’d expect nothing less. If it were my sister, I’d do the same.”
“And Jo gets a vote. If for some reason—”
“Absolutely.” Balz put his hand up. “If she doesn’t like me, we’ll get someone else.”
“Assuming there’s time,” V interjected. “Personal choice is all well and good, but biology is going to win this argument.”
“She can meet him at nightfall,” Butch said.
“Anywhere, anytime. It’s all about whatever makes her feel more comfortable.”
This was going to work out, Butch thought when the Bastard eventually left.
If only because Syn was likely not to kill the very guy he’d asked to take care of Jo.
Or at least… there was a better than average chance that he wouldn’t. Bonded males were a thing. And that was before you added on that Bastard’s penchant for murder.
“Can you tell me if she is going to live?” Butch asked his roommate tightly.
V leaned out around the monitors again, and his diamond eyes answered the question before his voice did. “I’m sorry.”
“Nah, it’s cool. I know what we’re up against. It’s just… I lost one sister already. I don’t want to lose another.”
Although technically, he’d lost all of his family—even his mother, in spite of the fact that he could still see her. Odell O’Neal had Alzheimer’s and was in a nursing home. Which was the only reason he could visit her on occasion.
“Can we keep Jo,” he said, “even if she stays human. And I don’t mean as in, in a closet somewhere. If she’s related to me, she’s related to Wrath—and he needs to know this.”
“He already does. Jane told him everything.”
“So he’ll let Jo stay.”
“I don’t know. It’s a big risk.”
“Manny’s here.”
“Because Payne mated him. You think Syn’s getting her name carved in his back anytime soon?”
“Jane’s here.”
“I let her go first, though.” V got a distant look in his eyes. “Worst hot chocolate I ever made.”
“Murhder has Sarah.”
“Again. See also, mated male and shellan.”
“Goddamn it. Doesn’t it count if she’s my sister? Manny’s?”
“If she stays a human? I don’t know, cop. I really don’t. What I am sure about is that we’re stretched thin as it is and the war is hitting a crucial point. Plus there’s that little supernatural bait-and-switch shit with that ‘old friend’ of yours in the basement of that building we visited tonight. You want to tell where, in this panoply of crap, we have room for an unattended human to come join the party?”
Butch cursed and looked at the glass Balz had been drinking out of. If his stomach still wasn’t iffy from what he’d done in the Tomb, he would have been sucking back the Lag like you read about.
But he was kind of done with the sucking for the foreseeable future.
Or… at least until nightfall.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
You’re fired. Effective immediately.”
As Jo sat across from Dick in his office at the paper, she was somehow not surprised. What was a shocker, if you considered the strong-arm tactics she had used just earlier in the week to keep her byline, was that she really didn’t give a shit.
Having made his pronouncement from on high, Dick smiled with all the trademark satisfaction of a letch who had gotten what he wanted. Not sex, this time, no. But she was out, and that clearly made him a happy congestive heart failure patient.
“And before you ask, Miss Early, we’re restructuring the newsroom and eliminating the online editorial position as part of a further round of cost savings.” Dick sat back in his chair and put his hands on the flanks of his protruding stomach like he’d just eaten. “Going forward, we’re outsourcing all our online support. It’s the wave of the future. So there is no way you can frame this in any other fashion, and I’ve already cleared it with our lawyers. If you try any kind of retaliation against me personally, regardless of what you may think the grounds are, I’m afraid I won’t be able to give you a reference—”
Jo got up. “Do I get severance or am I filing unemployment right away?”
Dick blinked like her pragmatism had stunned him. “Two weeks’ severance, effective today, and you’ll have health benefits through COBRA for eighteen months. But I want you out of the newsroom right now.”
“Fine. Do you have anything for me to sign?”
“My lawyer is mailing everything to your home address with instructions. But you have the termination letter on your email as we speak. It is nonnegotiable, however.”
“All right, then.”
As she turned and walked away from him, she could sense his confusion. But it wasn’t the kind of thing she was going to bother clearing up for him.
“I’m serious, Early,” he belted out. “Don’t try anything. You won’t like what happens to you.”
With her hand on the doorknob, she looked over her shoulder. “I’ll sign everything and you won’t hear from me again. And you won’t last long at that desk. It’s a race between the paper closing and your heart clogging from that diet of yours. Either way, I’ll leave you to your fate.”
She didn’t wait for a response, and closed the door quietly behind herself. Heading over to her desk, she sat down and glanced at Bill.
Her friend was staring at the monitor in front of him, clearly not seeing the email displayed on it.