Free Lover Revealed by J. R. Ward

a gold plate about the size of a tea saucer, and the precious object was buffed to a high shine, all mirror bright, gleaming like sunshine.
    "That's so pretty," the child breathed.
    "This is my wishing plate." Marissa took it out and turned the thing over. "Do you see my initial on the back?"
    The young squinted. "Yes. And look! There's a letter like as in my name."
    "I had yours added. I'd like you to have this."
    There was a little gasp from the mother in the corner. Clearly she knew what all that gold was worth.
    "Really?" the young said.
    "Hold your hands out." Marissa put the gold disk in the girl's palms.
    "Oh, it's so heavy."
    "Do you know how these wishing plates work?" When the young shook her head, Marissa took out a little piece of parchment and a fountain pen. "Think of a wish and I'll write it down. While you sleep, the Scribe Virgin will come and read it."
    "If she doesn't give you your wish, does that mean you're bad?"
    "Oh, no. It just means she has something better planned for you. So what would you like? It can be anything. Ice cream when you wake up. More Dora ?"
    The little female frowned in concentration. "I want my mahmen to stop crying. She tries to pretend she doesn't, but ever since I… fell down the stairs she's been sad."
    Marissa swallowed, knowing full well the child hadn't broken her leg like that. "I think that's fine. I'll write that down."
    Using the intricate characters of the Old Language, she penned in red ink: If it would not offend, I would be grateful for my mahmen's happiness .
    "There. How is it?"
    "Perfect!"
    "Now we fold it and leave it. Perhaps the Scribe Virgin will reply to you while you are in the operating—the green room."
    The child hugged her tiger closer. "I would like that."
    As a nurse came in, Marissa stood up. In a rush of heat, she felt a near-violent urge to protect the young, to shield her from what had happened at her home and what was about to happen in the OR.
    Instead, Marissa looked at the mother. "This is going to be fine."
    When she went over and put her hand on a thin shoulder, the mother shuddered, then gripped Marissa's palm hard.
    "Tell me he can't get in here," the female said in a low voice. "If he finds us, he'll kill us."
    Marissa whispered, "No one can get into the elevator without identifying themselves in front of a camera. The two of you are safe. I swear to it."
    When the female nodded, Marissa left so that the young could be sedated.
    Outside the patient room, she leaned against the hallway wall and felt more heaving rage. The fact that those two were bearing the pain of a male's violent temper was enough to make her want to learn how to shoot a gun.
    And God, she couldn't imagine setting that female and her young loose in the world because surely that hellren would find them when they left the clinic. Although most males put their mates higher than themselves, there had always been among the race a minority of abusers and the realities of domestic violence were ugly and far-reaching.
    A door shutting to the left brought her head up, and she saw Havers come walking down the hall, his head buried in a patient chart. Odd… his shoes were covered with little yellow plastic booties, the kind he always put on when he donned a hazmat suit.
    "Have you been in the lab again, brother mine?" she asked.
    His eyes shot up from the chart and he pushed his hornrimmed glasses higher on his nose. His jaunty red bow tie was cocked at a bad angle. "Come again?"
    She nodded at his feet with a smile. "The lab."
    "Ah… yes. I have." He reached down and took the covers off his loafers, crushing the yellow plastic in his hand. "Marissa, would you do me the favor of returning to the house? I've asked the Princeps Council leahdyre and seven other members to dinner on Monday next. The menu must be perfect and I would talk to Karolyn myself, but I'm due in the OR."
    "Of course." Except then Marissa frowned, aware that her brother was still as a statue. "Is everything all