The Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8

by J. R. Ward

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Bella patted the flakes down with the back of her spoon. “I love you, brother mine.”

  “And I you, my sister. Always.”

  “I think Mahmen is in the Fade watching over us. I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing, but she did, and I’ve come to after Nalla’s birth.”

  He was aware that they had almost lost Bella on the delivery table, and he wondered what she had seen in those moments when her soul had been neither here nor there. He’d never thought much about where you ended up, but he was willing to bet she was right. If anyone could watch over her decedants from the Fade, it would be their lovely, pious mother.

  It gave him comfort and purpose.

  His mother was never going to have to worry from up above about her issue. Not on his account.

  “Oh, look, it’s snowing,” Bella said.

  He glanced out the window. In the light thrown by the gas lamps along the drive, little white dots drifted down.

  “She would have loved this,” he murmured.

  “Mahmen?”

  “Remember how she used to sit in a chair and watch the flakes fall?”

  “She didn’t watch them fall.”

  Rehv frowned and glanced across the table. “Sure she did. For hours, she would—”

  Bella shook her head. “She liked what it looked like after they came down.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I asked her once. You know, why did she sit and stare out for so long.” Bella repositioned Nalla in her arms and smoothed a hand over the young’s sprinkling of hair. “She said it was because when the snow covered the ground and the branches and the rooftops, she remembered being on the Other Side with the Chosen, where everything was right. She said…after the snow fell, she was returned to before she had fallen. I never understood what that meant, and she never did explain that one.”

  Rehv looked back out of the window. At the rate the flakes were falling, it would take a while before the landscape went white.

  No wonder his mother had watched for hours.

  Wrath came awake in darkness, but it was the delicious, familiar, happy kind. His head was on his own pillow, his back was against his own mattress, his covers were pulled up to his chin, and his shellan’s scent was deep in his nose.

  He had been blissfully asleep for a long time; he could tell by how much he needed to stretch. And his headache was gone. Gone…God, he’d been living with the pain for so long, it was only in its absence that he realized how bad it had gotten.

  With a massive sprawl, he tightened the muscles of his legs and arms until his shoulder cracked and his spine realigned and his body felt glorious.

  Rolling over, he found Beth with his arm, slipping a hold around her waist from behind and curling himself into her so that his face was buried in the soft hair at the nape of her neck. She always slept on her right side, and the whole spooning thing was totally up his alley—he liked to surround her smaller body with his much larger one because it made him feel like he was strong enough to protect her.

  He kept his hips back from her, though. His cock was rigid and full of the I-wants, but he was grateful just to lie with her—and not about to ruin the moment by making her feel awkward.

  “Mmm,” she said, stroking his arm. “You’re awake.”

  “I am.” And then some.

  There was a shuffle as she eased around, moving in his arm until she faced him. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  When there was a gentle tug on his hair, he knew she was playing with the curled ends, and he was glad he kept it as long as he did. Even though he had to tie the heavy black load back when he went out to fight, and the shit took forever to dry—so long, in fact, that he had to use a hair dryer, which was too frickin’ girlie to believe—Beth loved the stuff. He could remember many a time she had fanned it out over her naked breasts….

  Right, slowing that train would be a good plan. Much more of that kind of thing and he’d have to mount her or lose his damn mind.

  “I love your hair, Wrath.” In the darkness, her quiet voice was like the touch of her fingers, delicate, devastating.

  “I love your hands on it,” he replied roughly, “in it, anything you like.”

  They passed God only knew how long just lying side by side, facing each other, her fingers twisting and turning in the thick waves.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, “for telling me about tonight.”

  “I’d rather have some good news to bring to you.”

  “I’m still glad you told me. I’d rather know.”

  He found her face by touch, and as he ran his fingers over her cheeks and nose to her lips, he saw her with his hands and knew her with his heart.

  “Wrath…” Her hand settled on his erection.

  “Oh, fuck…” His hips jacked forward, his lower back going tight.

  She laughed softly. “Your language of love does a trucker proud.”

  “I’m sorry, I—” His breath jammed in his throat as she stroked him over the boxers he’d worn for her modesty. “Fu—I mean—”

  “No, I like it. It’s you.”

  She rolled him over and mounted his hips—holy shit. He knew she’d gone to bed with a flannel nightgown on, but wherever the thing was, it wasn’t covering her legs, because her sweet, hot core rubbed right on his hardness.

  Wrath growled, and lost it. With a sudden surge he threw her on her back, shoved the Calvins he rarely wore down his thighs, and drove into her. As she cried out and scored his back with her nails, his fangs fully elongated and throbbed.

  “I need you,” he said. “I need this.”

  “Me, too.”

  He didn’t spare her any of his power, but then, she liked it like this sometimes, raw, wild, his body marking hers hard.

  The roar when he came into her shook the oil painting that hung over their bed and rattled her perfume bottles over on the dresser and he kept right on going, more beast than civilized lover. But as her scent flooded his nose, he knew she wanted him just as he was—every time he orgasmed, she came with him, her sex gripping his and pulling at him, keeping him deep inside.

  With breathless demand, she said, “Take my vein—”

  He hissed like a predator and went for her neck, biting hard.

  Beth’s body jerked under his, and between their hips he felt a welling warmth that had nothing to do with what he’d left behind inside her. In his mouth, her blood was the gift of life, thick on his tongue and down his throat, filling his belly with a furnace of heat, lighting up his flesh from the inside out.

  His hips took over as he drank, pleasuring her, pleasuring himself, and when he had his fill, he lapped at his bite marks, then went at her again, reaching down and stretching up one of her legs so he could get even deeper as he pounded hard. After he came in another rush, he palmed the back of her head and brought her lips to his throat.

  He didn’t get a chance to voice a demand. She bit him, and the instant her sharp points punctured his skin and he felt the sweet sting of pain, he orgasmed again, more brutally than all the others: The knowledge that he had what she needed and wanted, that she was living off of what beat through his veins, was erotic as fuck.

  When his shellan was finished and had closed the wounds by licking them, he rolled over onto his back and kept them joined, hoping to—

  Oh, yeah, he got good and ridden. As she became the master, he went to palm her breasts and found that she still had her nightgown on, so he whisked it over her head and tossed it to who-the-hell-cared. Finding her breasts again, the weights were so heavy and full in his palms that he had to arch up and take one of her nipples into his mouth. He suckled as she pumped them both off until it became too difficult to maintain the connection and he had to let his upper body fall back to the bed.

  Beth cried out, and then he did, and then they were both coming together. Afterward, she collapsed off of him and they lay side by side,
panting.

  “That was amazing,” she breathed.

  “Fucking amazing.”

  He patted around in the dark until he found her hand, and they stayed there together for a while.

  “I’m hungry,” she said.

  “Me, too.”

  “Here, let me go and get us something.”

  “I don’t want you to leave.” He tugged on her hand, drawing her to him, kissing her. “You are the best female a male could ever have.”

  “I love you, too.”

  As if they were plugged into the same outlet, both of their stomachs rumbled.

  “Okay, maybe it is time to food up.” Wrath let his shellan go as they laughed together. “Here, let me turn on the light so you can find your nightgown.”

  Instantly, he knew something was wrong. Beth stopped chuckling and went dead still.

  “Leelan? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Oh, God…he’d been so rough. “I’m sorry—”

  She cut him off with a strangled voice. “My light was already on, Wrath. I was reading before you woke up.”

  FORTY-ONE

  John took his fucking time in Xhex’s shower, washing himself thoroughly not because he was dirty, but because he figured two could play at the whole wipe-the-slate-clean, what-happened-didn’t-happen thing.

  After she’d left however many hours and hours ago, his first thought had been a bad one. He wasn’t going to lie: All he’d wanted to do was walk straight out into the sun and just be done with this loser-ass joke called life.

  There were so many things he failed at. He couldn’t talk. He sucked at math. His fashion sense, if left to its own devices, was anemic. He wasn’t particularly good with emotions. He usually lost at gin rummy and always at poker. And there were a lot of other shortcomings.

  But sucking at sex was the worst of them all.

  As he’d lain in Xhex’s bed and considered the merits of self-immolation, he’d wondered why the fact that he was a mess when it came to fucking seemed more important than any other deficiency.

  Maybe it was because the newest chapter in his sex life had taken him into even rockier, more hostile territory. Maybe it was because the most recent disaster was so fresh.

  Maybe it was because it was the last straw.

  The way he saw it, he’d had sex twice, and both times he’d been taken, once violently and against his will and then however many hours ago with his total, full-bodied consent. The aftermath of the two experiences had sucked, and in the time he’d spent on Xhex’s bed, he’d tried to stop replaying the hurts and mostly failed. Natch.

  As night had fallen, however, he’d grown a set as it dawned on him that he was letting other people screw with his head. In neither case had he done anything wrong. So why the hell was he thinking about ending his own life when he wasn’t the problem?

  The answer was not to turn himself into the vampire equivalent of a s’more.

  Shit, no. The answer was to never, ever be a victim again.

  From now on, when it came to fucking, he was the one who was going to do the taking.

  John got out of the shower, dried off his powerful body, and stood in front of the mirror, measuring his muscle and his strength. As he cupped his balls up around his cock, his heavy sex felt good in his hand.

  Nope. No more being a victim of other people. Time to grow the fuck up.

  John left the towel where it landed on the counter, dressed quickly, and felt taller somehow as he strapped his guns on and went for his phone.

  He refused to be some weak-ass, crybaby motherfucker anymore.

  His text to Qhuinn and Blay was short and sweet: Mt me @ ZS. Am gttn drunk n expect u both 2 do same.

  After he hit send, he went through the call log. A lot of people had reached out and touched his phone during the day, mostly Blay and Qhuinn, who evidently had dialed up every couple of hours. There was also some unknown private caller who’d hammered in three times.

  The end result was, he had two voice mails, and with no particular curiosity, he accessed his account and listened, expecting the unknown to be a human with a wrong number.

  It wasn’t.

  Tohrment’s voice was strained and low: “Hey, John, it’s me, Tohr. Listen…I, ah, I don’t know if you’ll get this, but can you call me if you do? I’m worried about you. Worried about you, and I want to say that I’m sorry. I know I’ve been really fucking out-of-it for a while now, but I’m coming back. I went…I went to the Tomb. That’s where I was. I had to go back and see…Shit, I don’t know…. I had to see where everything had started before I could shake myself back to reality. And then I, ah, I fed last night. For the first time since…” The voice cracked and there was a brisk breath. “Since Wellsie died. I didn’t think I could get through it, but I did. It’s going to take me a while to get—”

  At that point the message cut off and the automated voice asked him if he wanted to save or delete. He hit pound to skip to the next one.

  Tohr again: “Hey, sorry about that, I got cut off. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I fucked your head up. It wasn’t fair to you. You’ve been mourning her, too, and I wasn’t there to help you, and that’s always going to weigh on me. I abandoned you when you needed me. And…I’m really sorry. I’m done with running, though. I’m not going anywhere. I guess…I guess I’m here and that’s where I am. Fuck, I’m making no sense. Look, please call me and let me know you’re safe. Bye.”

  There was a beep and the automated voice cut in. “Save or delete?” she prompted.

  As John took the phone from his ear and stared down at the thing, there was a moment of wavering as the child that remained in him cried out for its father.

  A text from Qhuinn flashed across the screen, snapping him out of the immaturity.

  John hit delete on Tohr’s second v-mail, and when asked if he wanted to review his first skipped message he said yes and deleted that one as well.

  Qhuinn’s text was just: W’ll b thur.

  Good deal, John thought as he picked up his leather jacket and left.

  For someone who was jobless but had plenty of bills, Ehlena had no business being in a good mood.

  As she dematerialized out to the Commodore, though, she was happy. Did she have problems? Yes, absolutely: If she didn’t find work fast, she and her father were in danger of losing the roof over their heads. But she’d applied for a housecleaning position with a family of vampires to tide her over, and she was considering dabbling in the human world. Medical transcription was an idea, the only problem being that she didn’t have a human identity worth the laminated card it was printed on, and that was going to cost money to get. Still, Lusie was paid through the end of the week, and her father was delighted that his “story,” as he called it, had pleased his daughter.

  And then there was Rehv.

  She didn’t know where things were headed with him, but there was possibility between them, and the feeling of hope and optimism that created buoyed her in all parts of her life, even the holy-shit jobless stuff.

  Taking form on the terrace of the correct penthouse, she smiled at the flurries that swirled around in the wind and wondered why it was that whenever they fell, the cold didn’t feel as cold.

  When she turned around, she saw a massive shape through the glass. Rehvenge had been waiting and watching for her, and the fact that he was looking forward to this as much as she was made her smile so wide, her front teeth tingled in the chill.

  Before she could go over the door in front of him slid open, and he strode across the distance that seperated them, the winter wind catching his sable coat and sweeping it out from his body. His glowing amethyst eyes flashed. His stride was pure power. His aura was undeniably male.

  Her heart leaped as he stopped before her. In the glow from the city, his face was hard and loving at the same time, and though it no doubt froze him to the bone, he opened his coat, inviting her to share what body heat he had.

  Ehlena leaned in and wrapped her arms around him, holdi
ng him tight, breathing his scent deeply.

  His mouth dropped to her ear. “I missed you.”

  She closed her eyes, thinking those three little words were as good as I love you. “I missed you, too.”

  As he laughed softly with satisfaction, she both heard the sound and felt it as his chest rumbled. And then he cuddled her closer. “You know, with you against me like this, I’m not cold.”

  “That makes me happy.”

  “Me, too.” He turned them so they could both look out over the snow blanketed terrace and the skyscrapers of downtown and the two bridges with their stripes of yellow headlights and red taillights. “I’ve never gotten to enjoy this view up close and personal like this. Before you…I’ve only seen it through the glass.”

  Held within the cocooning warmth of his body and his coat, Ehlena had a sense of triumph that together they had bested the chill.

  With her head lying on his heart, she said, “It’s magnificent.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And yet…I don’t know, only you feel real to me.”

  Rehvenge pulled back and tilted her chin up with one long finger. As he smiled, she saw that his fangs were longer, and instantly she was aroused.

  “I was thinking the exact same thing,” he said. “At this moment, I can’t see anything but you.”

  His head dipped down and he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her some more while snowflakes danced around them as if the two of them were a centrifugal force, their own slowly spinning universe.

  As she slid her arms around the back of his neck and they both got carried away, Ehlena closed her eyes.

  Which meant she didn’t see and Rehvenge didn’t feel the presence that materialized on the top of the penthouse’s roof….

  And glared at them with red, glowing eyes the color of freshly spilled blood.

  FORTY-TWO

  Please don’t wince if you can manage it—okay, that’s good.”

  Doc Jane moved over to Wrath’s left eye, flashing her penlight right into the back of his brain, as far as he could tell. While the spear bored into him, he had to fight the urge not to jerk his head back.