The Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4

by J. R. Ward

  Patting her hand around, she found something covering her shoulders and pulled it closer. Leather. And it smelled…not at all like the cloying sweetness of a lesser. It was the scent of a male of her race. She took more breaths in through her nose. When she caught the baby-powder scent of the slayers, she was confused until she pressed her nose into the seat. Yes, in the upholstery. This was a lesser’s car. But then why was a male vampire’s sweat on what she was wearing? And there was something else, another smell…a dark musk with an evergreen spice.

  Bella started to tremble. She remembered the scent well, remembered it from the first time she had gone to the Brotherhood’s training compound, remembered it from later, when she had been to their mansion.

  Zsadist. Zsadist was in the car with her.

  Her heart pounded. She struggled to open her eyes, but either her lids refused to obey or maybe they were already open and it was just too dark for her to see.

  Am I rescued? she asked. Did you come for me, Zsadist?

  Except no sound came out of her mouth, though she moved her lips. She formed the words again, forcing air through her voice box. A hoarse groan was released, nothing more.

  Why weren’t her eyes working?

  She started to thrash around and then heard the sweetest sound that had ever reached her ears.

  “I got you, Bella.” Zsadist’s voice. Low. Full of strength. “You’re safe. You’re out of there. And you’re never going back.”

  He had come for her. He had come for her….

  She started to sob. The car seemed to slow, but then their speed redoubled.

  Her relief was so great, she slid into blackness.

  Zsadist kicked open the door to his room, busting the lock mechanism clean off. The crack of sound was loud, and Bella stirred in his arms, moaning. He froze as her head turned from side to side in the crook of his arm.

  This was good, he thought. This was very good.

  “Come on, Bella, come back to me. Wake up.” But she didn’t regain consciousness.

  He went over to his pallet and laid her down where he slept. When he glanced up, Wrath and Phury were in his doorway, the two huge males blocking out most of the light from the hall.

  “She needs to go to Havers’s,” Wrath said. “She needs to be treated.”

  “Havers can do what he has to here. She’s not leaving this room.”

  Z ignored the long silence that followed, totally caught up in watching Bella breathe. Her chest was going up and down in a regular pump, but it seemed so shallow.

  Phury’s sigh was one he’d know anywhere. “Zsadist—”

  “Forget it. He’ll see her here. And no one is touching her without my permission or my presence.” When he glared up at his brothers, Wrath and Phury seemed totally dumbfounded. “For chrissakes, you want me to say it in the Old Language in case you two forgot English? She goes nowhere.”

  With a curse, Wrath flipped open his cell phone and spoke fast and hard.

  When he closed the thing, he said, “Fritz is already in town, and he’s going to pick the doctor up. They’ll be here in twenty.”

  Z nodded and looked at Bella’s eyelids. He wished he could be the one to take care of what had been done to them. He wanted her to be relieved now. Oh, God… How she must have suffered.

  He became aware that Phury had come over, and he didn’t like it as the brother knelt down. Z’s instinct was to barricade Bella’s body with his own, preventing his twin, Wrath, the doctor, any male from seeing her. He didn’t understand the impulse, didn’t know its origin, but it was so strong he nearly launched himself at Phury’s neck.

  And then his twin reached out his hand as if to touch her ankle. Z’s lips peeled off his fangs, a growl launching out of his mouth.

  Phury’s head snapped up. “Why are you acting like this?”

  She’s mine, Z thought.

  Except the instant the conviction came to him, he pushed it aside. What the fuck was he doing?

  “She’s hurt,” he muttered. “Just don’t mess with her, okay?”

  Havers arrived fifteen minutes later. The tall, thin doctor had a black leather suitcase in his hand and looked like he was ready to do his business. But as he came forward, Z sprang up and intercepted the male into the wall. Havers’s pale eyes popped wide behind his tortoiseshell glasses, and his case clattered to the floor.

  Wrath cursed. “Jesus Christ—”

  Z ignored the hands trying to pull him off and pegged the doctor with a glare. “You treat her better than you would your own blood. She suffers one unnecessary flinch and I will take it out of your hide a hundred times over.”

  Havers’s slender body trembled, his mouth working silently.

  Phury gave a good pull and got nowhere. “Z, go easy—”

  “Stay out of this,” he snapped. “We clear, Doctor?”

  “Yes…yes, sire.” When Z released him, Havers coughed and pulled at his bow tie. Then frowned. “Sire…? You bleed. Your leg—”

  “You don’t worry about me. You worry about her. Now.”

  The male nodded, fumbled with his suitcase, and went over to the pallet. As he got down on his knees beside Bella, Z willed lights on in the room.

  Havers’s harsh inhalation was probably as close to a curse as the refined male could get. Under his breath he murmured in the Old Language, “To do this to a female…merciful Fade.”

  “Take the stitches out,” Z demanded, looming over the physician.

  “First the exam. I have to see if there are more serious injuries.”

  Havers opened up his case and pulled out a stethoscope, a blood-pressure cuff, and a penlight. He checked her heart rate and breathing, looked into her ears and nose, took her BP. When he opened her mouth she winced a little, but then he lifted her head and she began to struggle in earnest.

  Just as Zsadist lunged at the doctor, Phury’s heavy arm clamped around Z’s chest and jerked him back. “He’s not hurting her and you know it.”

  Z fought the hold, hating the sensation of Phury’s body against him. But when his twin didn’t let up, he knew it was for the best. He was on a hair trigger, and taking out the doctor would be a stupid move. Hell, he probably shouldn’t be armed right now.

  Phury was obviously thinking along similar lines. He removed Z’s daggers from their chest holster and handed them to Wrath. The guns were taken as well.

  Havers looked up and seemed greatly relieved that weapons were gone. “I…ah, I’m going to give her some light pain medication. Her respiration and pulse rate are strong enough so she’ll handle it fine, and it will make the rest of the examination and what follows easier for her to tolerate. Okay?”

  It wasn’t until Z nodded that the doctor administered a shot. When the tension in Bella’s body eased, the doctor took out a pair of scissors and went to the bottom of the bloodied nightgown she had on.

  As he lifted up the hem, Z felt a red rage. “Stop!”

  The doctor braced himself for a blow to the head, but all Z did was meet Phury’s stare and then Wrath’s. “Neither of you is to look at her naked. Close your eyes or turn around.”

  Both stared at him for a moment. Then Wrath offered his back and Phury lowered his lids, though he kept his hold on Z’s chest strong.

  Zsadist stared hard at the doctor. “If you’re going to remove her clothing, you cover her with something.”

  “What shall I use?”

  “A towel from the bathroom.”

  “I’ll get it,” Wrath said. After he handed one over, he resumed his post facing the door.

  Havers spread the towel over Bella’s body and then cut the nightgown along one side. He glanced up before lifting anything. “I’m going to need to see all of her. And I’m going to have to touch her belly.”

  “What for?”

  “I have to palpate her internal organs to determine whether any are swollen from trauma or infection.”

  “Make it quick.”

  Havers pulled the towel aside—
r />   Z swayed against his twin’s hard body. “Oh…nalla.” His voice cracked. “Oh, sweet Jesus…nalla.”

  Something was scratched into the skin on her stomach in what looked like three-inch block letters in English. As he was illiterate, he didn’t know what it said, but he had a horrible feeling….

  “What does it read?” he hissed.

  Havers cleared his throat. “It is a name. David. It says ‘David.’”

  Wrath growled. “In her skin? That animal—”

  Z cut his king off. “I will kill that lesser. So help me God, I will chew on his bones.”

  Havers inspected the cuts, his hands light and careful. “You must see that no salt gets anywhere near these. Otherwise the scars will heal as is.”

  “No shit.” As if he didn’t have experience with how wounds became permanent.

  Havers covered her up and went to her feet, inspecting them and then her calves. He pushed the nightgown out of the way as he went to her knees. Then he moved one of her legs out to the side, parting her thighs.

  Z surged forward, dragging Phury with him. “What the fuck are you doing!”

  Havers whipped back his hands, holding them up over his head. “I need to perform an internal exam. In the event she has been…violated.”

  With a quick move, Wrath stepped in front of Z and clamped his arms around Z’s waist. Through the sunglasses, the king’s stare burned. “Let him do it, Z. It’s better for her if he does.”

  Zsadist couldn’t watch. He dropped his head down into Wrath’s neck, getting lost in the male’s long black hair. The hard bodies of his brothers were sandwiching him, but he was too horrified to panic at the contact. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply, the scents of Phury and Wrath invading his nose.

  He heard a rustling noise, as if the doctor were searching around in that suitcase of his. Then there were two snapping sounds, as though the male were pulling on gloves. A shifting of metal against metal. Some whispering noises. Then…silence. No, not really. Little noises. Then a couple of clicks.

  Z reminded himself that all lessers were impotent. But he could just imagine how they made up for the deficiency.

  He trembled for her until his teeth chattered.

  Chapter Eight

  John Matthew looked across the Range Rover’s front seat. Tohr was preoccupied as they went deep into the rural part of Caldwell, and though John was scared to meet Wrath, the king, he was more worried about all this quiet. He couldn’t understand what was wrong. Bella had been saved. She was safe now. So everyone should be happy, right? Except when Tohr had come home to pick John up, he’d wrapped his arms around Wellsie in the kitchen and stayed there a long time. His words, low and in the Old Language, had come out of what sounded like a choked throat.

  John wanted to know the details of what had happened, but it was hard to pry in the car in the dark, what with him having to sign or write. And Tohr didn’t look like he was into talking.

  “Here we are,” Tohr said.

  With a quick swing to the right he shot them onto a cramped dirt road, and John realized he suddenly couldn’t really see anything out the windows. There was an odd haze to the wintry forest around them, a buffering that made him vaguely nauseous.

  From out of nowhere a huge gate materialized from the foggy landscape, and they skidded to a halt. There was another set of gates right beyond it, and as they entered the space in between, they were caged like a bull in a cattle chute. Tohr put down his window, entered some kind of code on an intercom pad, and they were free to go out the other side into a…

  Jesus, what is this?

  An underground tunnel. And as they headed down into the earth on a steady decent, several more gates appeared, the barricades getting more and more fortified until the last one. This was the biggest of them all, a shiny steel monster that had a HIGH VOLTAGE sign smack-dab in the middle. Tohr looked up into a security camera, and then there was a clicking noise. The gates slid apart.

  Before they went forward, John tapped Tohr’s forearm to get the man’s attention. Is this where the Brothers live? he signed slowly.

  “Sort of. I’m taking you through the training center first and then we’ll go to the mansion.” Tohr hit the gas. “When classes start you’ll come here Monday through Friday. Bus will pick you up in front of our house at four o’clock. My brother Phury’s on site, so he’s covering the early classes.” At John’s look, Tohr explained, “The compound is all interconnected underground. I’ll show you how to access the tunnel system that links the buildings together, but you keep it to yourself. Anyone who shows up uninvited somewhere is going to have a serious problem. Your classmates are not welcome, you feel me?”

  John nodded as they pulled into the parking area he remembered from a night long ago. God, it felt like a hundred years had passed since he’d come here with Mary and Bella.

  He and Tohr got out of the Range Rover. Who will I be training with?

  “A dozen other males about your age. They all have some warrior blood in their veins, which is why we chose them. Training will last through your transitions and then quite a while afterward, until we think you’re ready to go out in the field.”

  They walked up to a pair of metal doors that Tohr opened wide. On the other side was a corridor that seemed to go on forever. As they went along Tohr showed off a classroom, the gym, a weight room, then a locker room. The male stopped when he got to a door made of frosted glass.

  “This is where I hang when I’m not home or in the field.”

  John walked in. The room was pretty empty and very unremarkable. The desk was metal and covered with computer equipment, phones, and papers. File cabinets lined the back wall. There were only two places to sit, if you assumed flipping the wastepaper basket over was not an option. One chair was standard-issue office equipment, over in the corner. The other was behind the desk and hump-ugly: a ragged, avocado green leather monstrosity with dog-eared corners, a sagging seat, and a set of legs that gave new meaning to the word sturdy.

  Tohr put his hand on the thing’s high back. “Can you believe Wellsie made me get rid of this?”

  John nodded and signed, Yes, I can.

  Tohr smiled and walked over to a floor-to-ceiling cabinet. When he opened the door and punched in a series of numbers on a keypad, the back of the thing released outward into a dim kind of passageway.

  “Here we go.”

  John stepped inside even though he couldn’t see much.

  A metal tunnel. Wide enough to fit three people walking side by side, and so tall there was some space above even Tohr’s head. Lights were set into ceiling every ten feet or so, but they didn’t carry far through the darkness.

  This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, John thought as they started walking.

  The sound of Tohr’s shitkickers rebounded off the smooth, steel walls, and so did his deep voice.

  “Look, about meeting Wrath. I don’t want you to worry. He’s intense, but he’s nothing to fear. And don’t be freaked out by the sunglasses. He’s nearly blind and hypersensitive to light, so he has to wear them. But even though he can’t see, he’s going to read you like a book anyway. He’ll know your emotions clear as day.”

  A little later, a shallow staircase appeared to the left, leading up to a door and another keypad. Tohr stopped and pointed down the tunnel, which continued forever, as far as John could tell.

  “If you keep going straight here, you’ll be at the gatehouse in another hundred and fifty yards.”

  Tohr went up the flight of stairs, hit the keypad, and threw open the door. Bright light flooded in, like water released from a dam.

  John looked up, an odd feeling ringing in his chest. He had the weirdest sense he was dreaming.

  “’S all good, son.” Tohr smiled, his harsh face softening a little. “Nothing’s going to hurt you up there. Trust me.”

  “Okay, it’s done,” Havers said.

  Zsadist opened his eyes, seeing only Wrath’s thick black hair.
“Has she been…?”

  “She’s just fine. No signs of forcible intercourse or trauma of any kind.” There was a snapping sound, as if the doctor were removing his gloves.

  Zsadist sagged and his brothers accepted his weight. When he finally lifted his head, he saw that Havers had removed the bloody nightgown, put Bella’s towel back in place, and was pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. The male leaned over his case, took out a pair of needle-nose scissors and some tweezers, then looked up.

  “I’ll do her eyes now, all right?” When Z nodded, the doctor held up the instruments. “Be of care, sire. You startle me and I could blind her with these. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah. Just don’t hurt—”

  “She won’t feel a thing. I promise you.”

  This Z watched, and it took forever. He had some vague thought halfway through that he wasn’t holding himself up anymore. Phury and Wrath were keeping him on his feet, his head lolling on the side of Wrath’s massive shoulder as he stared down.

  “Last one,” Havers murmured. “Okay. The sutures are out.”

  All the males in the room took deep breaths, even the doctor, and then Havers went back to his supplies and picked up a tube. He smoothed some ointment onto Bella’s lids; then he packed up his suitcase.

  As the physician got to his feet, Zsadist broke away from his brothers and walked around a little bit. Wrath and Phury stretched their arms.

  “Her injuries are painful, but not life-threatening at this point,” Havers said. “They will heal by tomorrow or the day after, provided they are left alone. She is malnourished and she needs to feed. If she’s staying in this room, you need to turn up the heat and move her to the bed. Food and drink should be brought in for when she comes around. And there’s one other thing. On the internal exam, I found…” His eyes bounced between Wrath and Phury, then settled on Zsadist. “Something of a personal nature.”