The Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4

by J. R. Ward

  She fumbled around in her purse for her cell phone and tried to convince herself she was overreacting.

  Yeah, right.

  The men split apart and attacked Hal from both sides, coming fast and low over the ground. She shouted in alarm, but Hal…holy Moses, did Hal know what he was doing. He lunged to the right and grabbed one of them by the arm, flipping the guy on to the ground. Before the man could get up, Hal stomped on his chest, nailing him down. The other attacker ended up in a choke hold, kicking and thrashing, gasping for air, getting nowhere fast.

  Grim, deadly, Hal was in control of himself, at ease in the violence. And his cold, calm expression disturbed the hell out of her, even as she was grateful he’d saved them.

  She found her phone and started dialing 911, thinking he could clearly hold the two while the police came.

  She heard a sickening crack.

  Mary looked up. The man who’d been in the choke hold fell to the ground, his head hanging from his neck at a totally wrong angle. He did not move.

  She scrambled to her feet. “What have you done!”

  Hal took a long, black-bladed knife out of somewhere and loomed over the man he’d had his boot on. The guy was scrambling across the ground to get away.

  “No!” She jumped in front of Hal.

  “Get back.” His voice was eerie. Flat. Totally unconcerned.

  She took hold of his arm. “Stop it!”

  “I have to finish—”

  “I’m not going to let you kill another—”

  Someone grabbed her roughly by the hair and whipped her off her feet. Just as another man in black attacked Hal.

  Pain shot through her head and neck and then she landed on her back, hard. The impact knocked the breath out of her, and stars burst into her vision like firecrackers. She was struggling to get air into her lungs when her arms were wrenched up and she was dragged away. Fast.

  Her body banged against the ground, her teeth clapping together. She lifted her head even though it sent needles up and down her spine. What she saw was a horrible relief. Hal was throwing yet another lifeless body onto the grass and coming after her at a dead run. His thighs ate up the distance, jacket flaring out behind him, dagger in his hand. His eyes were a screaming blue in the night, like xenon headlights on a car, and his big body was nothing but death waiting for a place to happen.

  Thank God.

  But then another man launched himself onto Hal’s back.

  As Hal fought off the guy, Mary called on her self-defense training, twisting herself until her attacker had to reposition his grip. When she felt his fingers loosen, she yanked as hard as she could. He turned and recaptured her quickly, but with a less sure hold. She pulled again, forcing him to stop and pivot around.

  She cringed, ready to get hit, but hoped at least she’d allowed Hal some time to catch up.

  Except there was no blow coming down at her. Instead a howl of pain erupted from the man, and her abductor fell on her, a heavy, smothering weight. Panic and terror gave her the strength to heave him off.

  His body rolled over limply. Hal’s dagger was through the man’s left eye.

  Too shocked to scream, Mary surged to her feet and took off as fast as she could go. She was sure she would be caught again, convinced she was going to die.

  But then the glow from the lights of the restaurant finally came into view. When she felt the parking lot’s asphalt underfoot, she wanted to weep in gratitude.

  Until she saw Hal in front of her. As if he’d appeared out of nowhere.

  She skidded to a halt, panting, dizzy, unable to comprehend how he’d gotten back before her. As her knees gave out, she caught herself on a random car.

  “Come on, let’s go,” he said roughly.

  In a cold rush, she remembered the snap of a man’s neck. And the black blade through the attacker’s eye. And Hal’s calm, vicious control.

  Hal was…death. Death in a beautiful package.

  “Get away from me.” She tripped over her own feet and he reached out for her. “No! Don’t touch me.”

  “Mary—”

  “Stay away from me.” She backed toward the restaurant, hands raised to ward him off. For what little good that would do against him.

  Hal tracked her, moving with powerful shifts of his arms and legs. “Listen to me—”

  “I need…” She cleared her throat. “I need to call the police.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “We were attacked! And you…killed someone. People. You killed people. I want to call the—”

  “This is private business. The cops can’t protect you. I can.”

  She stopped, a nasty shot of truth putting who he was into sharp focus. Everything made sense. The menace he hid behind the charm. His utter lack of fear as they got jumped. His determination not to involve the police. God, the fact that he’d cracked a man’s head loose with such ease, like he’d done it before.

  Hal didn’t want her to call 911 because he was on the other side of the law. No less a thug than the men who’d gone after them.

  She grabbed under her arm to hold her purse, about to make another run for it. And realized her bag was gone.

  Hal cursed, quick and hard. “You lost your purse, didn’t you?” He looked around. “Listen, Mary, you need to come with me.”

  “The hell I do.”

  She made a break for the restaurant, but Hal leaped in front of her, blocking the way, taking her arms.

  “I’ll scream!” She eyed the parking-lot attendants. They were probably thirty yards away. “I’ll scream my head off.”

  “You’re life’s in danger, but I can protect you. Trust me.”

  “I don’t know you.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Oh, you’re right. You’re handsome, so you can’t possibly be evil.”

  He jabbed his finger toward the park. “I saved you out there. You wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren’t for me.”

  “Fine. Thanks a hell of a lot. Now leave me alone!”

  “I don’t want to do this,” he muttered. “I really don’t.”

  “Do what!”

  He passed his hand in front of her face.

  And suddenly she couldn’t remember what she was so teed off about.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Standing in front of Mary, her memories at his mercy, Rhage told himself to finish the job. Just wipe himself from her like a stain.

  Yeah, and how was that going to work for them?

  He’d left at least one, maybe two of the lessers alive in the park when he’d had to go after her. If those SOBs nabbed her purse, and he could only assume they had, she was in the crosshairs. The Society was already abducting civilians who knew nothing about the Brotherhood; she’d actually been seen with him.

  But what the hell did he do now? He couldn’t leave her alone at her house because her address would be on her driver’s license and it would be the first place the lessers would go. Taking her to a hotel wasn’t an option, because there’d be no way to be sure she’d stay put: She wouldn’t understand why she needed to keep away from home because she wasn’t going to remember the attack.

  What he wanted to do was take her back to the mansion, at least until he could figure out how to handle this shit storm. Trouble was, sooner or later someone would find out she was in his room, and that would be bad news for everyone. Even if Tohr’s command to scrub her didn’t stand, humans were prohibited from their world: Too dangerous. The last thing the Brotherhood needed was for the race’s existence and the secret war with the lessers to get out among Homo sapiens.

  Yeah, but he was responsible for Mary’s life. And rules were meant to be bent….

  Maybe he could get Wrath to allow her in. Wrath’s shellan was half-human, and ever since the two had gotten together, the Blind King had softened on the subject of females. And Tohr couldn’t override the king. No one could.

  Except while Rhage tried to make his case, Mary needed to be kept safe.
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  He thought about her house. It was off the beaten path, so if the shit hit the fan he could defend her without worrying about a lot of interference from the human police. And he had plenty of weapons in his car. He could get her settled, protect her if need be, and call Wrath.

  Rhage released her mind, cutting off her memories just after they’d gotten out of the car. She wouldn’t even remember their kisses.

  Which, all things considered, was a good thing. Damn him. He’d pushed her too far, too fast, and he’d almost cracked himself. While his mouth and hands were on her, that hum in his body had risen to a scream. Especially when she’d taken his palm and put it between her thighs.

  “Hal?” Mary stared up at him in confusion. “What’s going on?”

  He felt god-awful as he looked into her wide eyes and finished burying the images in her mind. He’d scrubbed clean the memories of countless human females before and never thought twice about it. But with Mary, he felt like he was taking something from her. Invading her privacy. Betraying her.

  He dragged a hand through his hair, grabbing onto a hunk and wanting to pull the stuff right out of his head. “So you’d rather skip dinner and go back to your place? That’s fine with me. I could use some chill time.”

  “Good, but…I feel like there’s something else we have to do.” She looked down at herself and started brushing off grass. “Although considering what I did to this skirt as we left my house, I probably shouldn’t be out in public anyway. You know, I thought I got all the lawn stuff off—Wait a minute, where’s my purse?”

  “Maybe you left it in the car.”

  “No, I—Oh, God.” She began to shake uncontrollably, her breaths getting rapid, shallow. Her eyes became frantic. “Hal, I’m sorry, I…I need…Oh, hell.”

  It was the adrenaline racing through her system. Her mind might be calm, but her body was still flooded with fear.

  “Come here,” he said, taking her against his body. “Let me hold you until it passes.”

  As he murmured to her, he kept her hands in front so they didn’t find the remaining dagger under his arm or the nine-millimeter Beretta at the small of his back. His eyes darted around, searching the shadows of the park to the right and the restaurant to the left. He was desperate to get her in the car.

  “I’m so embarrassed,” she said against his chest. “I haven’t had a panic attack in a long time.”

  “You don’t worry about that.” When she stopped trembling, he pulled back. “Let’s go.”

  He hurried her over to the GTO and felt better as he put the thing in gear and peeled out of the parking lot.

  Mary looked all around the car.

  “Shoot. My purse isn’t here. I must have left it at home. I’m a forgetful mess today.” She leaned back against the seat and searched her pockets. “Aha! At least I have my keys, though.”

  The trip out of town was fast, uneventful. As he brought the GTO to a stop in front of her house, Mary covered up a yawn and reached for the door. He put his hand on her arm.

  “Let me be a gentleman and get that for you.”

  She smiled and dropped her eyes as if she wasn’t used to men fussing over her.

  Rhage got out. While he sniffed the air, he used his eyes and ears to penetrate the darkness. Nothing. A whole lot of nothing.

  On his way around the back of the car, he popped the trunk, took out a large duffel bag, and paused again. Everything was quiet, including his hair-trigger senses.

  As he opened Mary’s door, she frowned at what was hanging off his shoulder.

  He shook his head. “I don’t think I’m spending the night or anything. I just noticed my trunk lock is broken and I don’t want to leave this unattended. Or out in plain sight.”

  Goddamn, he hated lying to her. It literally turned his stomach.

  Mary shrugged and walked to her front door. “Must be something important inside that thing.”

  Yeah, only enough firepower to level a ten-story office building. And it still didn’t feel like enough to protect her.

  She seemed awkward as she unlocked the front door and stepped inside. He let her roam from room to room, turning on lights and working off her nervousness, but he stuck right by her. As he followed, he visually checked the doors and windows. They were all locked. The place was secure, at least on the ground floor.

  “Would you like something to eat?” she asked.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “I’m not hungry either.”

  “What’s upstairs?”

  “Um…my bedroom.”

  “Will you show it to me?” He needed to go through the second story.

  “Maybe later. I mean, do you really have to see it? Er…oh…hell.” She stopped pacing and stared at him, hands on her hips. “I’m going to be up front with you. I’ve never had a man in this house. And I’m rusty at the hospitality thing.”

  He dropped the duffel. Even though he was battle-ready and tense as a cat, he had enough mental energy left over to get sapped out on her. The fact that another male hadn’t been in her private space pleased him so much his chest sang.

  “I think you’re doing just fine,” he murmured. He reached out and stroked her cheek with his thumb, thinking about what he wanted to do with her up in that bedroom.

  Immediately his body started cranking over, that weird inner burn condensing along his spine.

  He forced his hand to fall to his side. “I have to make a quick phone call. Mind if I use the upstairs for privacy?”

  “Of course. I’ll…wait here.”

  “It won’t take long.”

  As he jogged up to her bedroom, he took his cell phone out of his pocket. The case of the damn thing was cracked, probably from one of the lessers’ side kicks, but it still dialed out. When he got Wrath’s voice mail, he left a short message and prayed like hell he got a call back soon.

  After doing a quick assessment of the upstairs, he came back down. Mary was on her couch, legs tucked under her.

  “So what are we watching?” he asked, searching the doors and windows for pale faces.

  “Why are you looking around this place like it’s a back alley?”

  “Sorry. Old habit.”

  “You must have been in one hell of a military unit.”

  “What do you want to watch?” He went over to the shelves where her DVDs were all lined up.

  “You pick. I’m going to go change into something…” She flushed. “Well, to be honest, something more comfortable. And that doesn’t have grass on it.”

  To make sure she was safe, he waited at the bottom of the stairs as she moved around her bedroom. When she started for the first floor again, he beat feet back over to the bookshelves.

  One look at the movie collection and he knew he was in trouble. There were a lot of foreign titles, some deeply sincere American ones. A couple of golden oldies like An Affair to Remember. Casa-fucking-blanca.

  Absolutely nothing by Sam Raimi or Roger Corman. Hadn’t she heard of the Evil Dead series? Wait, there was a hope. He pulled a sheath out. Nosferatu, Eine Symphonie des Grauens. The 1922 classic German vampire movie.

  “Found something you like?” she said.

  “Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  Oh…man. She was dressed for love, as far as he was concerned: Flannel pajama bottoms with stars and moons on them. Little white T-shirt. Floppy suede moccasins.

  She tugged at the shirt’s hem, trying to pull it down farther. “I thought about putting on jeans, but I’m tired, and this is what I wear to bed…er, to relax in. You know, nothing fancy.”

  “I like you in all that,” he said with a low voice. “You look comfortable.”

  Yeah, to hell with that. She looked edible.

  Once he had the movie up and rolling, he grabbed the duffel bag, brought it over to the couch, and sat down at the end opposite from her. He stretched out, trying to pretend for her benefit that every muscle in his body wasn’t tight. Truth was, he was strung out. Between wai
ting for a lesser to break in, praying that Wrath would call at any moment, and wanting to kiss his way up the inside of her thighs, he was a living, breathing steel cable.

  “You can put your feet on the coffee table, if you want,” she said.

  “I’m cool.” He reached over and turned off the lamp to his left, hoping she’d fall asleep. At least then he could move around and keep an eye on the exterior without getting her riled up.

  Fifteen minutes into the movie, she said, “I’m sorry, but I’m fading over here.”

  He glanced at her. Her hair was fanned over her shoulders and she’d curled up into herself. Her skin was luminous and a little flushed in the flicker of the TV, her eyelids droopy.

  This was how she would look when she woke up in the morning, he thought.

  “Let yourself go, Mary. I’m going to stay a little longer, though, okay?”

  She tugged a soft cream throw blanket over herself. “Yes, of course. But, um, Hal—”

  “Wait. Would you please call me by my…other name?”

  “Okay, what is it?”

  “Rhage.”

  She frowned. “Rhage?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Ah, sure. Is that like a nickname or something?”

  He closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Well, Rhage…Thank you for tonight. For being so flexible, I mean.”

  He cursed quietly, thinking she should slap him instead of feel grateful. He’d nearly gotten her killed. She was now a target for the lessers. And if she knew half the things he wanted to do to her body, she’d probably lock herself in the bathroom.

  “It’s okay, you know,” she murmured.

  “What is?”

  “I know you just want to be friends.”

  Friends?

  She laughed tightly. “I mean, I don’t want you to think I misinterpreted that kiss when you picked me up. I know it wasn’t…you know. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me getting the wrong idea.”

  “Why do you think I’m concerned you might?”

  “You’re sitting on the other end of this couch stiff as a board. Like you’re afraid I’m going to jump you.”