Page 14 of Devil May Lie

Technically, he was also now officially in Brumal territory, but whatever. A few members of the Retinue attended the university and didn’t have to announce themselves daily or anything crazy like that. If he did come upon Baikal Void, Madden would just lie and say he was here with Zane. It would be believable since the guy studied in the same department as the Butcher.

“You must have serious problems if you came all this way just to pick up Grex-13,” Berga told him over his shoulder as he led him into the massive building and down a long, white corridor.

They passed by several classrooms, some in the middle of class, others empty, and a couple of private labs. There was also a library filled exclusively with medical journals and books on anatomy, physiology, and psychology. Madden read off the list in his head quickly, curious since he’d never bothered to visit the science department of Vail before.

“You could say that.” They weren’t talking about the same thing, but the Butcher wasn’t wrong. Madden did have a problem, that problem just happened to be here and not at the Docks. “You haven’t visited again.”

“Why would I?” Berga stopped at a single door and pressed his hand against a scanner to the left of it. As soon as a green light swept over his palm, there was a beep and the door clicked and slid open of its own accord. He walked into the room without even a modicum of hesitation, as if allowing some random person into his private space was normal.

“You shouldn’t be so trusting,” he warned. “What if I was here for payback after all?”

“You said you weren’t interested in that,” Berga replied, not the least bit concerned.

That isn’t anywhere near what he’d said, but okay. Madden paused as soon as the door swished shut at his back. “Are you that confident you could take me in a fight, Butcher?”

“I’m not much of a fighter.”

“You’ve gone through training just like the rest of the Brumal.”

“Sure,” he shrugged, already riffling through one of the tall cabinets with glass doors, his back to Madden. “But I prefer to avoid hand-to-hand combat of any kind. Too messy.”

“I don’t know, I had fun wrestling with you the other night.”

Berga paused with his fingers on one of the glass vials before clearing his throat. “That was not wrestling.”

“Semantics.” This wasn’t going to do. For some reason, Madden didn’t like the way Berga was going about regular business, as though his presence in his personal space wasn’t worth the effort of noticing.

As if fucking him last week wasn’t even an afterthought swirling around in his mind.

Had he forgotten it all so easily? The way he’d arched his back and moaned for Madden like a bitch in heat? How his body had clung to him with every outward stroke as if begging him to remain buried in that silky, tight embrace?

Had Madden been the only one caught up in those memories?

That…seriously irked him.

“Got it.” Berga pulled a glass vial from the way back and turned. “I haven’t had the chance to perfect the formula yet, but you can take this one for now.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Madden stated, watching closely as the Butcher’s forehead wrinkled in mild confusion. “Maybe we could waive the whole pill deal if you can make me feel good again.”

Berga tapped the vial against his hand and then spun on his heels, replacing it and selecting another, which he promptly held out to Madden.

“What’s this?” It was his turn to frown.

“That drug from the other night,” he explained. “It made you feel good, didn’t it?” Berga faltered when Madden didn’t immediately agree. “Isn’t this what you were asking for?”

“You really are terrible at reading the room, huh? Is nuance not a thing to you?”

He bristled. “I struggle with identifying it, as well as sarcasm, which I sincerely hope you’re exercising now or—”

“What? Going to stop playing nice?” Madden would actually prefer that. He hadn’t come here to fight with the Butcher, but he wanted some type of reaction other than…this.

“If you were hoping for something,” Berga said, “sorry to disappoint. I’ve been told I’m wooden. Although, I prefer those occasions when I’m likened to a robot instead. Machines can be programmed to do just about anything, and my programming is sound.”

He blinked at him. “You’re serious?”

“Jest is also something I—”

“I regret to inform you, judging from my own personal experience with your body, you are a far cry from robotic.”

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