“Son of a bitch" Wrath breathed as a figure stopped twenty yards away.The glowing man laughed "Well, if it isn't good king Wrath and his band of merry-merry happy-happy. I swear you boys should do kiddie shows, you're so fucking cheery.""Great," Rhage murmered, "his sense of humor's still intact."Vishous exhaled "Maybe I can try to beat it out of him-""Use his own arm to do it, if you can-"Wrath glared at the two of them, who shot him back a pair of 'who-us?' stares”

“From the shadows, the young heir to the throne came forward, his expression far older than his seven years. Wrath, son of Wrath, was, like Tohrment, the spitting image of his sire, but there the comparison between the two pairs ended. The regent king was sacred, not just to his parents, but to the race.This small male was the future, the leader to come...evidence that in spite of the affronts committed by the Lessening Society, the vampires would survive.And he was fearless. Whereas many a wee one had shrunk back behind a parent when facing a single Brother, the young Wrath stood his own, staring up at the males before him as if he knew, regardless of his tender age, that he would command the strong backs and fighting arms of those before him.”

“Price,” Wrath said, still looking at his brother.“Well, here’s the thing.” As the king cursed, the man, Lassiter, laughed. “It’s not a price, though.”“What. Is. It.”“We’re a two-for-one-deal.”“Excuse me?”“I come with him.”“The fuck you do.”The man lost any levity in his voice. “It’s past of the arrangement, and believe me, I wouldn’t choose this either. Fact is, he’s my last change, so yeah, I’m sorry, but I go with him. And if you say no, by the way, I’m going to level us all like that.”The man snapped his fingers, a brilliant white spark flaring against the night sky.After a moment, Wrath turned to John. “This is Lassiter, the fallen angel. One of the last times he was on earth, there was a plague in central Europe –““Okay, that was so not my fault –”“ – that wiped out two-thirds of the human population.”“I’d like to remind you that you don’t like humans.”“They smell bad when they’re dead.”“All you mortal types do.”John could barely follow the conversation; he was too busy staring into Tohr’s face. Open your eyes…open your eyes…please God…“Come on, John.” Wrath turned back to the Brotherhood and started walking. When he came up to them, he said softly, “Our brother is returned.”“Oh, Christ, is he alive,” someone said.“Thank God,” someone else groaned.“Tell them,” Lassiter demanded from behind. “Tell them he comes with a roommate.”As one, the Brothers’ heads snapped up.“Fuck. Me, “Vishous breathed.“I will so pass on that,” Lassiter muttered.”

“If it had been anyone else, Wrath would have used his favourite pair of words: Fuck and off”

“Oh, man there's a marathon of Beaches running tomorrow night. Can we go after ten so I can see it once all the way through?"Everyone in the room turned to the blond-and-black haired guy, who was propped in the corner, massive arms over his chest.What," he said. "Look, it's not Mary Tyler Moore, 'kay? So you can 't give me shit."Vishous, the one with the black glove on his hand, glared across the room. "It's worse than Mary Tyler Moore. And to call you and idiot would be an insult to half-wits around the world."Are you kidding me? Bette Midler rocks. And I love the ocean. Sue me."Vishous glanced at the king. "You told me I could beat him. You promised."As soon as you come home," Wrath said as he got to his feet, "we'll hang him up by his armpits in the gym and you can use him as a punching bag."Thank you, baby Jesus."Blond-and-Black shook his head. "I swear, one of these days I'm going to leave."As one, the Brothers all pointed to the open door and let silence speak for itself.You guys suck.”

“That's you," Wrath said. You shall be called the Black Dagger warrior Dhestroyer, descended of Wrath son of Wrath.""But you'll always be Butch to us," Rhage cut in. "As well as hard-ass. Smart-ass. Royal pain in the ass. You know, whatever the situation calls for. I think as long as there's an ASS in there, it'll be accurate.""How about bASStard?" Z suggested."Nice. I feel that.”

“Vishous, son of the Bloodletter, was not the kind of male anyone addressed like that. Except, apparently, for Wrath. In this case, the Brother with the tattoos on his face and the perverted reputation and the hand of death did exactly what he was told. He shut the fuck up.Which said volumes about Wrath. Did it not.”