Page 31 of Devil May Lie

When Madden got too close, Berga took a swing at him as well, catching him off guard, but the attack didn’t feel personal. It didn’t even feel like it’d been on purpose. After trying and failing to get through to him, he’d finally taken a shot in the dark and mentioned the blood.

“Did they come at you?” he asked now that he sort of had Berga’s attention.

The Butcher hesitated, then curtly shook his head. “I don’t know.”

He’d blacked out? That explained why he was acting out of character. But what was the cause?

“What do you know?” Madden wasn’t sure how to proceed. What questions were the right ones and which were better left unasked? He could tell just by looking at him that Berga was still teetering on whatever edge he’d miraculously been pulled from, and Madden didn’t want to be the one to push him back over it.

“He made her disappear,” Berga whispered, the words almost inaudible.

Shit.

“There’s still blood on your shoes,” Madden lightened his tone so he sounded almost flirtatious and parroted the comment that seemed to do the trick and keep Berga focused. “It’s sexy as hell, but I doubt you’re comfortable with that.”

Berga’s gaze remained unfocused, but he was clearly trying to process that statement, even if it was taking him a million years to compute. His chin tipped downward until he was staring at the shoes in question, where a single speck of blood was visible on the tip of his right one.

It reminded Madden of his sister when she’d been little, unable to comprehend why her baby clothes no longer fit her. Not that he was comparing someone as fierce and formidable as Berga to a child, but still…

His mother had always approached Rebecca’s confusion with patience.

Madden made a big show of sighing and dropped into a crouch, untying his standard-issue black boots as he spoke. “If I had any say in the matter, you’d keep yours on. Seriously, the blood is a good look. It makes you seem badass and dangerous—which you are. But since you don’t like it,” he slipped out of both and then kneeled in front of Berga, lifting his foot to remove the bloodstained shoe first. “Let’s trade.”

Berga blinked down at him but said nothing as Madden placed his feet into his boots and did up the laces carefully. Once he had the Butcher’s on, he straightened and rested his hands on his hips, humming in approval.

“We’re the same shoe size,” he pointed out. “Isn’t that interesting?”

“Your shoes are dirty,” Berga murmured, barely audible, his eyes locked on the bloodstain Madden was now wearing.

“Yeah,” Madden tilted his foot as if showing it off, “don’t you think I look badass and dangerous?”

“You look—” He stopped himself abruptly, brow furrowing. “I believe I am malfunctioning.”

Madden snorted. “You’re not a robot, Butcher. Though, perhaps Mad King is a more fitting nickname for you than it is for me.” He snapped his fingers. “Mad Scientist? We can be mad together. What do you think?”

“That you are reacting far too calmly given the situation.”

“What’s the situation?” He tipped his head and softened his tone. “Hmm? You can tell me, Berga. I won’t judge you.”

“Judgement is the last concern I have,” Berga stated, but life was starting to reenter him, lighting up the hue of his eyes.

Madden considered that for a moment and then took a shot in the dark. “Abandon you then. I won’t vanish on you because of a little thing like this.”

“Abandonment is…closer.” He blinked. “This is not a little thing.”

“You only beat up five cadets,” Madden took a closer look at their uniforms, “and they’re all sophomores.” They both knew Berga could have taken on a group of better-trained people, but he didn’t point that out. “Only one of them bled.”

“That wasn’t me,” Berga corrected. “He came that way...Didn’t he?”

If would make sense if the cadet had. The Butcher was too cautious about keeping himself spotless. Even if whatever manic state he’d just been in, Madden doubted that one particular detail of his personality would have changed, considering the states of the others around them.

But that was neither here nor there. What mattered was the fact there was blood no matter what, though he at least appeared to be calmer now that the shoe was on Madden’s foot instead of his.

“Should we call someone?” Zane’s voice reached them from the entrance to the room.

Madden hadn’t noticed the other man following him. Maybe he hadn’t and he’d only just arrived.

“I am not a child.” Berga took a deep breath and then met Madden’s gaze. “Tell the head nurse that I’m taking her up on her offer and leaving early. If she deducts my grades for it, she’ll be sorry.”

---