The Jackal (Black Dagger Brotherhood: Prison Camp)

by J. R. Ward

  This time, as tears were shed, they were of joy. Not sorrow.

  And would they be thus forevermore—

  Jack eased back a little. With a frown, he glanced down at Peter.

  “But I don’t understand one thing,” he said. “How did you get out? You didn’t know about my secret passageway. I never told you because I was worried it would put you in danger. I’d made it for you, so that when the time was right, I could smuggle you free.”

  Peter swallowed hard, and as he tilted his head, the light from the lamp on the side table hit his hair. For the first time, Nyx noticed . . . the red glowing in the dark strands.

  “She let me go.”

  “I’m sorry?” Jack said. “What?”

  “The Command. She took me from my cell outside of the schedule. It was not a mealtime. I didn’t know what she was going to do. I thought I was in trouble.” Peter looked anxious, as if he were reliving things that had scared him. “She took me through the prison, and opened this steel door with a card. She didn’t say anything. She just kept us going, until . . . I don’t know, we got to this exit I’d never seen before. She gave me a leg up, through this grate.”

  “She freed you herself?”

  “Yes. I was so confused. The only thing she said was to go north. She told me to keep walking and go north toward the mountain. She told me to look for the white farmhouse with the big tree and the red barn. She told me . . .” Peter looked at Nyx. “That there were kind people of our species there who would take me in and care for me. Then she told me to replace the grate and . . . she disappeared.”

  Nyx closed her eyes briefly. She hadn’t heard that part yet. Had Posie? Her grandfather?

  “And she was right,” Peter said as he squeezed Nyx’s hand.

  “Yes, there are very good people under this roof,” Jack murmured. “The very best.”

  “Can we stay here, father?”

  Nyx had to wipe both her eyes. “Yes, both of you can stay. Forever.”

  She smiled, even though she had a pain in the center of her chest. Why had Janelle done one last good thing? Who knew. Maybe the love of a mahmen for her young had been enough to override the rest of her nature, in that one decision. In that one moment.

  But Nyx was never going to know the full truth of it and it didn’t matter anymore. She had her two males, and she was going to take care of them both: Her one true love and her nephew. For all the nights and days she had upon this earth, and all the eternity up above in the Fade, she was going to watch over them.

  Indeed, Destiny had mapped this all out beforehand.

  It was the only way to explain it.

  The following evening, Nyx woke up in her little bed with Jack right beside her. Rolling over in the darkened room, she discovered that he was already awake, his eyes hooded and hot as he stared at her.

  “Have something on your mind, my male?” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  When he leaned in for a kiss, she met him more than halfway. And they were quick and silent with the undressing. Everyone else in the house was downstairs, sleeping in the cozy quarters Posie had made underground for Peter’s protection, and the relative privacy of the first floor wasn’t going to last.

  So yes, it was fast off with the clothes, and rough with the hands, and then Jack was mounting her and she was taking him inside. He bit his lip with his sharp fangs as they were joined, and she clawed at his back as they began to move together, his long, beautiful hair silky and lush around her. Then they were kissing again and things were moving faster—and God, she hoped the bedsprings didn’t creak.

  It didn’t take long to find a release. For either of them.

  And they kept going. One more time. One more quick, intense time on both sides.

  Then they had to stop.

  Jack looked down into her eyes as he stroked her hair back. “I want to do this properly sometime.”

  “Yes, please,” she murmured. “And as soon as possible.”

  They were laughing as they pulled apart, and she quickly disappeared into the bathroom and hit the shower. She wished Jack was with her. But there would be time for that.

  And she was willing to be patient. Up to a point.

  When she emerged with fresh clothes and clean hair, he was sitting at the kitchen table, looking around at the appliances. The counters. The TV that was mounted on the wall.

  “I do recognize some of this,” he said.

  “Is it really strange?”

  “Yes, it feels . . . truly bizarre.”

  Nyx went over and sat across from him. When his eyes eventually settled on her, she could tell he was in a bad place.

  “Talk to me,” she prompted.

  It was a while before he spoke, and she prayed—prayed—that whatever it was had time to get expressed before anyone came up from the basement.

  “It’s about the Command,” he said. “Your sister.”

  Nyx dropped her head. Shook it from side to side. “I am so sorry. I feel like I have to apologize for everything she did. She was a monster.”

  “I want you to understand . . .” He cleared his throat. “How it started between us. When she, ah, when she came into the prison, she was looking for a mentor. She had a manipulative way about her, and I’ll admit that, for a time, there was an attraction for me. But that faded fast as I learned who she really was. As I pulled back, she got more attached until I became an obsession for her. Peter—by the way, I love that name—came about when I was forced to service her needing. It was right after that that she began to take control. I’d often wondered . . . well, I don’t know what the hell was going through her brain a lot of the time, but it was almost like she had to make it safe for him. She mostly took control for her own reasons, of course, but young in that environment? Almost none survive. Again, though, with her, ascribing any altruistic motivation may well be a mistake.”

  Nyx nodded. Then she reached across the table and held Jack’s hand. “Any time you want to talk about anything, I’m always here.”

  “Thank you.” He rubbed his face. “I also need you to know how she died.”

  “I found her body.”

  “You did?”

  “I disposed of it properly and with respect. Even though . . . I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

  “You did the right thing. For Peter’s mahmen.” Jack went quiet again for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “She told me she’d killed him. Peter, that is. I don’t know why. Probably to make me suffer.”

  When he couldn’t seem to go on, Nyx had a feeling what had happened.

  “It’s okay if you killed her,” she said softly.

  “How can you say that?” He cursed. “You should hate me for killing a member of your bloodline. And Peter . . . Peter can never know.”

  “She hurt you. On purpose. She hurt a lot of people—killed them, tortured them. I have to be honest. I don’t feel anything about her being dead except for relief. Well, and confusion. But as you said, who knows what was going on inside of her.”

  Jack stared off into space. “She was covered with blood. She had a heart she had ripped out of someone’s chest in her hand. She was screaming at me about killing him. I just . . . I snapped. I grabbed her around the throat and just banged her into the wall over and over again. And then that animal—the one who bit me—ended up attacking her. I got free because she was . . .”

  “It’s okay. It’s all okay, I promise. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Jack stared into her eyes. “I love you.”

  Nyx squeezed his hand again. “Right back at you, my love.”

  As he leaned in to kiss her, she leaned in as well. And just as their lips met, footsteps began to ascend from the cellar.

  Nyx stroked the side of her male’s face and then let herself fall back into her seat. As Posie and Peter and her grandfather emerged from down below, she reflected that among all the phrases in all the languages in all the world, there was one that never lost its luster,
no matter how many times it was spoken.

  “I love you” never got worn out.

  Whether it was between parents and children, sisters and brothers, or people who had a romantic connection, those three little words were as strong, as vital, as steadfast and enduring . . . as the powerful emotion they described.

  “I love you” was immortal.

  Even death couldn’t fade those words. And for vampires, who existed in the darkness, they were the golden sunlight that kept the species warm and alive.

  Exactly one hour after Jack enjoyed a delicious First Meal of eggs, bacon, and toast with his family, the sixteen-seat bus that had been sent to collect them arrived. The Black Dagger Brotherhood’s vehicle had blacked-out windows, comfortable leather seating, and a traditionally dressed butler behind the wheel.

  The trip to their destination took a while. And in the roomy back area, behind the partition that had been raised, they passed the four hours talking about everything and nothing at all. Posie, Nyx’s sister, had a sweet disposition, and there was true fondness between her and Peter, a brother/sister connection that had been born out of the healing she had helped him through. The grandfather was a hoot. Dry as the desert, quiet as a library, smart as an encyclopedia. You couldn’t not like him.

  And then there was his Nyx. Who was perfect in all ways as far as Jack was concerned.

  Time flew, and suddenly, they were on some kind of ascent. Jack squeezed Nyx’s hand and tugged her closer to him on the bench seat.

  He had spent a lot of time stealing glances at her, and he knew he was not ever going to get tired of the sight of her. The sound of her. Her scent and her laugh, her smile and her secret little flushes—which cropped up whenever he went to naked places in his mind. It was as if she knew exactly what he was thinking of.

  Which was often, but always discreetly.

  When the bus stopped, the butler put down the partition and smiled at them all, his elderly face radiating warmth and good nature. “We have arrived! Please do depart the vehicle at your leisure.”

  Jack was content to let the others go first—because it allowed him to sneak a kiss from his female. And then she was shuffling out and he was in her wake, the pair of them going down the center aisle and descending some short steps onto cobblestones that—

  Jack tightened his hold on his female’s hand.

  As he looked up . . . up . . . way up . . .

  “He built it,” Jack breathed as he took in the breadth and height of the magnificent stone mansion that he himself had designed and labored over in his mind. “He built the house.”

  The great gray manse was exactly as Jack had envisioned it, from the complicated roofline, to the two wings, to the enormous center core that rose up to the heavens—

  The grand double doors opened wide, and Rhage, the Brother with the bright blue eyes, came out. With him was a brunette female and a pretrans young who had to be their daughter.

  Jack felt his throat close up with emotion.

  Walking forward with Nyx and Peter, Posie and Grandpapa, as Peter called the older male, Jack felt as though he was bringing his family . . . to meet the Brother’s.

  His brother’s.

  “Have a good ride?” Rhage said.

  “Yes. We did.”

  As Jack surmounted the stone steps, he kept staring at the Brother while the Brother stared back at him, both of them frozen.

  The females did the intros, Nyx and Mary, Rhage’s shellan, stepping forward, hugging each other, hugging everyone, the melding happening.

  Even as Rhage and Jack stayed where they were.

  “I’m just going to take the kids inside?” Mary said to her hellren. “We’ll let you two have a minute out here, ’kay?”

  Rhage seemed to shake himself. “Hey, would you mind taking the kids inside so that Jack and I can have a moment?”

  The female smiled at him. “I’d love to. What a good idea. Come on, Nyx. Have you all had anything to eat? We have food here like you wouldn’t believe.”

  Nyx hesitated. When Jack squeezed her hand, she nodded, kissed him quick, and followed the others inside.

  And then he was alone with the Brother.

  “So . . .” Rhage cleared his throat. “You feeling better? You know, after a good day’s sleep?”

  “Oh, yes. Much. Thank you for asking.”

  And then . . . nothing.

  Until they both spoke at the same time.

  “I’m sorry, I know this is weird—”

  “Please forgive me, I don’t mean to—”

  They both laughed. And then Jack said, “Who was your father? When I first saw you at Jabon’s, I had a thought in the back of my mind that perhaps we were related. I wanted to follow up on it, but I didn’t know who to trust, and I was a stranger to you.”

  “My sire was the Black Dagger Brother Tohrture. He was a brave and proud warrior.”

  Jack shook his head. “I’ve never heard the name. My mahmen never told me who my father was, but there were rumors he might have been a Brother. When I pressed her on the issue, she forbade me to ever go to Caldwell. That was why . . . well, she had her reasons, I guess.”

  “My sire was not formally mated unto my mahmen. And yes, I got my eye color from him.” Rhage shrugged helplessly. “I was told all of my blooded brothers had died, but when I look in your face? Anyway, I had that flash of recognition when I met you as well, but I didn’t make the connection, because I didn’t think it was possible. Not with what I knew of my family.”

  “My mahmen . . . on her deathbed, she made me promise I would never go in search of my father. I have had a century to ponder it, and I believe . . . well, I think she felt as though she had had an affair with my sire. She did not want to ruin a family.”

  “Our sire was not mated unto my mahmen, as I said. So there was nothing to break up. And in any event, that is all in the past. We have now, though. We have the present. Let’s start as we mean to go on, shall we?” Rhage put his palm out. “Oh, and by the way, nice to properly meet you.”

  Jack clasped the dagger hand that was extended to him. And then he was pulled into a hard embrace.

  “Welcome to the family,” Rhage announced before stepping back.

  “How can you accept me so readily? Do you not want some kind of proof?”

  “How many people do you know with eyes like ours? Yours, mine, and your son’s?”

  “Not many.” Jack thought about it. “None, actually.”

  “There you go. We can do a Maury if you’d like, though.”

  “What’s a Maury?”

  Rhage blinked. And then clapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Oh, the things that are waiting for you here in this age of TV and the Internet. Now, you ready to come inside and check out what you planned with all those drawings?”

  Clearing his throat, to keep the emotions down, Jack looked up again at the mansion’s exterior. The leaded glass windows were glowing with light, a beautiful sight.

  “It’s just as I constructed it,” he said. “I can’t wait to speak to Darius about—”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  Jack glanced over to ask what the low-voiced, grim apology was for. But instantly, he knew by the expression on Rhage’s face what it was about.

  Jack hung his head for a moment. “When did Darius die? Please tell me he got a chance to see this? It was his dream.”

  “He saw the house. But he was called unto the Fade before he saw it full.”

  “Your loss must be so great.”

  “Yeah. It is. And it happened not so long ago.” Rhage indicated the entry. “Come on, you’ve got to want to see everything.”

  Nodding, Jack followed the Brother into a vestibule. “When did construction start?”

  “Right after you . . .” Rhage stopped and pivoted around. “Look, I gotta clear this up. I didn’t know what happened to you. Where you ended up, that is. Jabon was a weak piece of shit, and I was just done with him after that night. You’ve got to know
that I had no idea he was turning you in to the Council. If I had known, I would have told them what I knew to be fact. That you did not dishonor that young female. That you are a male of worth who would never do such a thing.”

  Jack bowed. “I appreciate you saying this. But I took for granted all that was true. Jabon was the bad one in it all. I don’t even blame that daughter and the mahmen.”

  “If the aristocrat weren’t dead already, I’d kill the fucker. In fact, I’m considering digging him up just so I can murder him all over again?”

  “Did he die by violent means?”

  “Two females killed him about twenty-five years after the incident involving you.” Rhage leaned in. “When they found the body, they couldn’t locate his courting tackle, if you know what I mean.”

  Jack winced. “Wow.”

  At that moment, there was a buzzing and the sound of a lock freeing. And then the vestibule doors were opened wide by the butler who’d driven the bus to Caldwell.

  “Greetings!” the doggen said. As if he had not seen Jack for twelve years and Jack was the most honored guest who had ever been invited over the threshold.

  “Thank you,” Jack murmured as he stepped into—

  He stopped dead just inside the door. The foyer, with its marble columns and its grand staircase, its three-story-high ceiling and its mosaic floor, was every bit as majestic as Jack had envisioned it. And the spaces on either side . . . the grand dining room with its carved archway and the billiards room over to the left.

  Just as he had hoped.

  Abruptly, the fact that people were all around registered—in fact, it was a very large crowd of people, including males and females along with young of all ages, and they were all standing by a huge dining table, sharing greetings and introductions with Peter, Nyx, Posie, and Grandpapa. There was such joy among them, smiles and hugs given freely, the chatter and laughter and bubbling welcome filling the huge formal room, indeed all the square footage under the slate roof, with life . . . and love.

  Jack looked at Rhage. At his brother who was a Brother.

  “This is just what Darius wanted.”