Q:BoB, or Band of Bastards is a group of from Bloodletter's camp that are warriors just like the Brother's, but they aren't of the right blood lines to become brother's, still fight lessers, etc. BoB is led by Xcor, and has many vampires following him, but we only know of a few right now like Throe and Zypher. Throe, one of the warriors in BoB was once a brother, now a "traitor" but they didn't tell what he did. BoB is currently trying to assassinate Wrath & brothers, and take over.

sare-bare

Abruptly Rhage sat back against the wall and pulled the blanket that hung off the couch into his lap. She wondered for a split second if he was hiding an erection.

Yeah, right. More likely he was cold because he was half naked.

“Did you suddenly remember what I am?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Is that what turned you off?”

She remembered those fangs of his on her lip. The idea that he was a vampire turned her on. “No.”

“Then why did you shut down? Mary?” His eyes bored into hers. “Mary, will you tell me what’s going on?”

His confusion as he stared at her was appalling. Did he think she wouldn’t mind being a pity fuck?

“Rhage, I appreciate the lengths you’re willing to go to in the name of friendship, but don’t do me any favors, okay?”

“You like what I do to you. I can feel it. I can smell it.”

“For chrissakes, do you get off on making me feel ashamed of myself? Because I’ll tell you, having a man get me all hot and bothered while he might as well be reading a newspaper doesn’t feel good on my end. God… you’re really sick, you know that?”

That neon gaze narrowed in offense. “You think I don’t want you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I’ve missed all that lust on your side. Yeah, you’re really hot for me.”

She couldn’t believe how fast he moved. One minute he was sitting back against the wall, looking at her. The next he had her down on the floor, underneath him. His thigh shoved her legs apart and then his hips drove into her core. What came against her was a thick, hard length.

His hand tangled in her hair and pulled, arching her up against him. He dropped his mouth to her ear.

“You feel that, Mary?” He rubbed his arousal in tight circles, stroking her, making her bloom for him. “You feel me? What does this mean?”

She gasped for air. She was so wet now, her body ready for him to drive deep into her.

“Tell me what it means, Mary.” When she didn’t answer, he sucked her neck until it stung and then took her earlobe between his teeth. Little punishments. “I want you to say it. So I know you’re clear on how I feel.”

His free hand dipped under her butt, tucked her closer, and then his erection pushed into her, hitting the right place. She could feel the head of him probing through his pants and her pajama bottoms.

“Say it, Mary.”

He surged forward again and she groaned. “You want me.”

“And let’s just make sure you remember that, shall we?”

He released her hair and took her lips with a raw edge. He was all over her, inside her mouth, on top of her body, his heat and his male smell and his tremendous erection promising her one hell of a wild, erotic ride. 

“How can I help you?” she asked.

There was a pause. Like she’d surprised him.

“Could you bring me some ice cream? No nuts or chips if you have it. And a towel.”

When she came back with a bowlful, she could hear him struggling to sit up.

“Let me come to you,” she said.

He went still. “Aren’t you afraid of me now?”

Considering he was either delusional or a vampire, she should be terrified.

She came around the corner of the sofa anyway. In the dimness, she could just vaguely make out the big shape of him.

“What’s wrong, Rhage?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Damn it, she hated the tough-guy routine. “It’s the sunlight, right? You’re allergic to it.”

He laughed harshly. “You could say that. Mary, stop. Don’t come back here.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to see me.”

She reached over and clicked on the lamp nearest to her. A hissing sound shot through the room.

As her eyes adjusted, she saw that Rhage was flat on his back, one arm cradled against his chest, the other over his eyes. A nasty-looking burn had taken root on the skin exposed by the sleeves he’d rolled up. He was grimacing in pain, his lips peeled back from his-

Her blood went cold.

Fangs.

Two long canine incisors were lodged among his upper teeth.

He had fangs.

She must have gasped because he muttered, “I told you not to look.”

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered. “Tell me those are fake.”

“They aren’t.”

She pinwheeled backward until she hit the wall. Holy…good God.


“What… are you?” she choked out.

“No sunlight. Funky choppers.” He inhaled raggedly. “Take a guess.”

“No… that isn’t…”

He groaned and then she heard a shuffle, as if he were moving around. “Could you please shut that lamp off? My retinas got toasted and they need some time to recover.”

“You want to know why I’m doing this?”

When John nodded, the man took off his coat and unbuttoned the top half of his shirt. He pulled the thing open, exposing his left pectoral.

John’s eyes latched on to the circular scar that was revealed.

As he put his hand on his own chest, sweat broke out across his forehead. He had the oddest sense that something momentous was sliding into place.

“You’re one of us, son. It’s time you came home to your family.”

John stopped breathing, a strange thought shooting through his head: At last, I’ve been found.