The Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4

by J. R. Ward

  God, he didn’t know why he hadn’t figured it out before. Maybe he’d just wanted to avoid the truth.

  Being with Mary was different because…he wasn’t the only one who wanted to make love to her.

  The beast wanted her, too.

  The beast wanted out so it could take her.

  Chapter Forty-two

  When Bella got home she couldn’t settle down. After writing for an hour in her diary, she changed into some jeans and a sweatshirt and put her parka on. Outside, flurries were falling in a disorganized rush, swirling in eddies of cold air.

  Zipping up the parka, she walked into the taller, rougher grass of the meadow.

  Zsadist. She couldn’t close her eyes and not see him lying on his back in that bathroom.

  Ruined. Not broken.

  She stopped and watched the snow.

  She’d given him her word that she wouldn’t bother him, but she didn’t want to keep the promise. God help her, she wanted to try again with him….

  In the distance she noticed someone walking around Mary’s house. Bella stiffened in fear, but then saw the dark hair, so she knew it wasn’t a lesser.

  Vishous was obviously working on the security-alarm installation. She waved to him and headed over.

  After having talked with V at the party, she liked him tremendously. He had the kind of smarts that usually sucked the social skills right out of a vampire, but with that warrior, you had the whole package. He was sexy, all-knowing, powerful, the kind of male that made you think of having babies just to keep his DNA in the gene pool.

  She wondered why he wore that black leather glove. And what the tattoos on the side of his face were about. Maybe she’d ask about those, if it seemed okay.

  “I thought you wouldn’t have to finish now,” she called out as she came up onto the terrace. “What with Mary—”

  The dark-haired figure that stepped in front of her was not Vishous. And it was not alive.

  “Jennifer?” the lesser said in awe.

  For a split second Bella froze. Then she turned and ran, moving fast over the ground. She didn’t stumble; she didn’t falter. She was quick and she was sure as she crossed the meadow, even though she was terrified. If she could make it to her house, she could lock the lesser out. By the time he broke in through the glass, she’d be down in the basement where no one could get in. She’d call Rehvenge and take the underground tunnel to the other side of the property.

  The lesser was behind her—she could hear the pounding of his stride and the rustle of his clothes—but he wasn’t closing as they tore across the crispy, frosted grass. Training her eyes on the cheerful lights in her house, she reached down into her muscles for more speed.

  The first shot of pain hit her in the thigh. The second in the middle of her back, through the parka.

  Her legs slowed and her feet became flippers of enormous size. Then the distance she had to close got greater, stretched to infinity, but she kept going anyway. By the time she made it to her back door, she was weaving. Somehow she got inside, but she struggled to engage the lock with fingers that had gone boneless.

  As she wheeled away and lurched for the basement, the sound of the French doors being kicked in was oddly quiet, as if it were happening somewhere far, far away.

  A hand closed on her shoulder.

  The fighting urge came up strong in her and she hauled off and smashed the lesser in the face with her closed fist. He was momentarily stunned and then he hit her back, sending her spinning to the ground. He rolled her over and hit her again, his open palm clapping on her cheekbone, kicking her head back against the floor.

  She felt nothing. Not the slap, not her skull’s impact. Which was good because she wasn’t distracted as she bit him in the arm.

  Flailing around together, they knocked into the kitchen table, scattering the chairs. She got free by grabbing one of the things and knocking him in the chest with it. Disorientated, panting, she crawled away.

  Her body gave out at the foot of the basement stairs.

  Lying there, she was conscious, but incapable of movement. She had a vague thought that something was dripping into her eyes. Probably her own blood, maybe some of the lesser’s.

  Her scope of vision swung around as she was turned over.

  She looked into the lesser’s face. Dark hair, pale brown eyes.

  Good God.

  The slayer was crying as he lifted her from the floor and cradled her in his arms. The last thing she was aware of was the sight of his tears falling to her face.

  She felt absolutely nothing.

  O carefully lifted the female out of the cab of his truck. He wished like hell he hadn’t agreed to give up his own place so he could live at the persuasion center. He would have preferred to keep her away from the other lessers, but then again, if she were here he’d be able to make sure she didn’t escape. And if any other slayer got near her…well, that’s what they made knives for.

  As he carried the female through the door, he looked down at her face. She was so like his Jennifer. Different-colored eyes, but that heart-shaped face. The thick, dark hair. And the body—lean, perfectly proportioned.

  Actually, she was more beautiful than Jennifer had been. And she hit harder, too.

  He laid the female on the table and fingered the bruise on her cheek, the split lip, the marks on her throat. The fighting had been tremendous: all-out, nothing spared, no stopping until he won and held her spent body in his arms.

  Staring at the vampire, he thought back to the past. He’d always been afraid he’d be the one to kill Jennifer, that some night all the hitting would cross the line. Instead he’d ended up murdering the drunk driver who’d nailed her car head-on. The bastard had been liquored up at five in the afternoon, and she’d just been coming home from work.

  Taking her killer out had been easy. He’d found where the guy had lived and had waited for him to come home shit-faced. Then he’d beaten the man’s head in with a tire iron and pushed him down the stairs. With the body cooling, O had driven north and east, all the way across the country.

  Where he’d fallen into the Society.

  A car pulled up outside. Quickly he picked up the female and carried her over to the holes. After slipping a halter around her chest, he opened the lid of one and dropped her inside.

  “You got another?” U asked as he came inside.

  “Yeah.” O made a show of looking into the other hole, at the male Mr. X had worked on the night before. The civilian was shifting in the pipe, making little scared, mewing noises.

  “So let’s get to work on the fresh capture,” U said.

  O put his boot on the cover over the female. “This one is mine. Anyone touches her and I will skin them with my teeth.”

  “Her? Excellent. Sensei will be psyched.”

  “You say nothing to him about this. We clear?”

  U frowned, then shrugged. “Sure. Whatever, man. But you know he’s going to find out sooner or later. When he does, just don’t think it came from me.”

  O could actually see U keeping the secret, and on impulse he gave the slayer the address of the converted barn he’d been breaking into. A little boon in exchange for the lesser’s integrity.

  “The name of the female who lives there is Mary Luce. She was seen with a brother. Go get her, my man.”

  U nodded. “Will do, but it’s close to dawn and I need to crash. I’ve been up for two nights too long, and I’m getting weak.”

  “Tomorrow then. Now leave us.”

  U cocked his head and glanced down at the pipe hole. “Us?”

  “Get the fuck out of here, U.”

  U took off and O listened as the sound of the lesser’s car faded.

  Satisfied, he look down at the mesh cover. And couldn’t stop smiling.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Rhage did not return to the main house until five in the afternoon. As he walked through the tunnel, he made no sound. He’d taken his shoes off because they’d been soggy a
nd then forgotten where he’d left them.

  He was a live wire, the burn in him a roar he couldn’t get rid of no matter how exhausted he was or how much weight he lifted or how far he ran. At this point, not that he’d even consider it, he couldn’t imagine that having sex with a hundred different females would bring him down.

  There was no escape for him, but he had to talk to Mary. He dreaded telling her he’d been condemned a century ago and had no idea how to explain that the beast wanted to have sex with her. But she needed to know why he stayed away.

  He braced himself and opened their bedroom door. She wasn’t there.

  He went downstairs and found Fritz in the kitchen.

  “Have you seen Mary?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.

  “Yes, sire. She departed.”

  Rhage’s blood went glacial. “Where was she headed?”

  “She didn’t say.”

  “Did she take anything with her? Purse? Overnight bag?”

  “A book. A bagel. A parka.”

  Outside. Rhage hit the underground tunnel and was at the Pit in half a minute. He pounded on the door.

  Vishous took his damn time answering and was sporting boxer shorts and bed head when he did. “What the—”

  “Mary’s out of the house. By herself. I need to find her.”

  V went from rubbing his eyes and looking cranked-off to being totally focused. He went to his computer, called up every exterior image he had, and found her curled up in the sun right against the mansion’s front doors. Which was smart. If anything came at her, she’d be able to get into the vestibule in the work of a moment.

  Rhage took a deep breath. “How do you get this thing to move in closer?”

  “Hit zoom in the upper right-hand corner with the mouse.”

  Rhage zeroed in. She was feeding a couple of sparrows, throwing little pieces of her bagel at them. Every once in a while she’d lift her head and look around. The smile on her face was a private one, just a slight lift to her lips.

  He touched the screen, brushing his fingertip against her face. “You know, you were wrong, my brother.”

  “Was I?”

  “She is my destiny.”

  “Did I say she wasn’t?”

  Rhage looked across all the computer equipment, focusing on V’s tattooed eye. “I am not her first lover. You told me my fate was a virgin. So you were wrong.”

  “I am never wrong.”

  Rhage frowned, rejecting out of hand the idea that some other female would mean more to him or would take Mary’s place in his heart.

  Man, fuck fate if it was going to try to make him love someone else. And to hell with V’s prognostications.

  “Must be nice to know it all,” he muttered. “Or at least think you do.”

  As he turned and headed for the tunnel, his arm was gripped hard.

  V’s diamond eyes, usually so calm, were narrow and pissed off. “When I say I’m never wrong, I’m not on an ego trip. Seeing the future is a goddamned curse, my brother. You think I like knowing how everyone’s going to die?”

  Rhage recoiled and Vishous smiled coldly. “Yeah, chew on that. And then realize the only thing I don’t know is the when, so I can’t save any of you. Now, you want to tell me why I should showboat about this curse of mine?”

  “Oh, God…my brother. I’m sorry….”

  V blew out his breath. “S’all right. Look, how about you go get with your female? She’s been thinking about you all afternoon. No offense, but I’m getting tired of hearing her voice in my head.”

  Mary leaned back against the great brass doors and looked up. Overhead, the sky was a brilliant expanse of blue, the air dry and crisp after the previous night’s unseasonably early snowfall. Before the sun set, she wanted to walk the grounds, but the warmth coming through her parka made her lethargic. Or maybe it was just exhaustion. She hadn’t been able to sleep after Rhage left their room, had spent all day long hoping he’d come back.

  She had no idea what had happened last night. Wasn’t even sure that she’d seen what she thought she had. For chrissakes, tattoos did not levitate off someone’s skin. And they did not move. At least, not in her world.

  Rhage wasn’t the only reason for insomnia, though. It was time to find out what the doctors were going to do to her. The appointment with Dr. Della Croce was tomorrow, and when it was over, she was going to know how bad the treatments were going to be.

  God… She wanted to talk to Rhage about all that. To try to get him prepared.

  As the sun dipped below the tree line, a chill sank into her. Standing up, she stretched and then went through the first of the doors into the vestibule. When those had closed, she showed her face to a camera and the inner set opened.

  Rhage was sitting on the floor right next to the entrance. He got up slowly. “Hi. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  She smiled awkwardly, shifting her book back and forth between her hands. “I wanted to tell you where I was. But you’d left your cell phone behind when you—”

  “Mary, listen, about last night—”

  “Wait, before we start on that.” She held up her hand. Took a deep breath. “I’m going to the hospital tomorrow. For the consultation before treatment starts.”

  His frown went so deep, his eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead. “Which hospital?”

  “Saint Francis.”

  “What time?”

  “In the afternoon.”

  “I want someone to go with you.”

  “A doggen?”

  He shook his head. “Butch. The cop’s good with a gun, and I don’t want you unprotected. Look, can we go upstairs?”

  She nodded and he took her hand, leading her up to the second floor. When they were in their bedroom, he paced incessantly while she sat on the bed.

  As they talked about the doctor’s appointment, it turned out preparing him was more like preparing herself. And then they were silent.

  “Rhage, explain to me what happened last night.” As he hesitated, she said, “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it. You can tell me anything.”

  He stopped. Faced her. “I’m dangerous.”

  She frowned. “No, you aren’t.”

  “You know what’s all over my back?”

  With a chill, she thought about the tattoo moving—

  Hold up, she told herself. It hadn’t done that. He’d been breathing hard or something, and that was why the thing had appeared to have shifted positions.

  “Mary, it’s part of me. The beast. It’s inside of me.” He rubbed his chest and then his arms. Now his thighs. “I try to control it as best I can. But it…I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know what to do. Even now, being around you, I’m…Christ, I’m a fucking mess.”

  As he held out hands that trembled, he did look totally strung out.

  “Part of the reason why I have to fight is that combat brings me down,” he said. “And it’s what the females were about. I took them because the release helped keep the beast at bay. Except now that I can’t have sex, I’m unstable. That’s why, last night, I almost lost it. Twice.”

  “Wait a…What are you talking about? You have me. Make love with me.”

  “I can’t let that happen anymore,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t…lay with you anymore.”

  Stunned, she just stared at him. “You mean, you won’t be with me at all? Ever again?”

  He shook his head. “Never.”

  “What the hell? You want me.” Her eyes flicked down to the thick bulge in his pants. “I can see you’re hard. I can smell the need you have for me.”

  Suddenly his eyes stopped blinking and flashed white.

  “Why do your eyes change?” she whispered.

  “Because it…comes alive.”

  As she fell silent, he began to breathe in a strange rhythm. Two draws in, one long exhale. Two short gasps, one slow blow.

  She struggled to come to grips with what he was saying. And failed, for the
most part. He must mean that he had some kind of hard-core alter ego, she thought.

  “Mary, I can’t…lay with you because…when I’m with you it wants out.” Two more quick breaths. “It wants…”

  “What, exactly?”

  “It wants you.” He backed away from her. “Mary, it wants to…be inside of you. Do you understand what I’m saying? My other side wants to take you. I…I have to go now.”

  “Wait!” He stopped at the door. Their eyes met. “So let him have me.”

  Rhage’s mouth dropped open. “Are you insane?”

  No, she wasn’t. They’d had sex with a desperation that had bordered on violence. She’d felt his hard thrusts before. If this other personality of his was tough, she figured she could handle it.

  “Just let yourself go. It’s all right.”

  Two short gasps. One long sigh. “Mary, you don’t know…what the fuck you are saying.”

  She tried to make light of it. “What are you going to do? Eat me?”

  When he just stared at her with those white eyes, she went cold. Jesus, maybe he had a point.

  But she was definitely insane.

  “We’ll tie you down,” she said.

  He shook his head as he tripped over his feet and grabbed the doorknob. “I don’t want to chance it.”

  “Wait! Do you know for sure what will happen?”

  “No.” He scratched his neck and shoulders, twitching.

  “Is there a possibility you’ll just have the release you need?”

  “Maybe.”

  “So we’ll try it. I’ll run if…well, if something weird happens. Rhage, let me do this for us. Besides, what’s the alternative? I move out? We don’t see each other? We never have sex again? I mean, come on, you’re so itchy right now you’re about to jump out of your skin.”

  Fear flooded into his face, tightening his mouth, widening his eyes. Shame followed on its heels, a terrible, gut-wrenching misery that carried her across the room to him. She took his hands, feeling them shake.

  “I hate to see you like this, Rhage.” When he started to speak, she cut him off. “Look, you know what we’re dealing with here. I don’t. Do what you have to do to secure yourself and we’ll…see what happens.”