Lover Awakened (Black Dagger Brotherhood #3)(125)

Order had been restored, and the three-dimensional lie worked for him.

He went to the gym and flipped on the cage lights in the ceiling. There were no classes today because of everything that had happened, and he wondered with Tohr gone whether the training would stop altogether.

John jogged across the mats to the equipment room, his sneakers smacking against the tough blue skins. From the knife cabinet he took out two daggers and then snagged a chest holster small enough to fit him. Once the weapons were strapped on, he went to the center of the gym.

Just as Tohr had taught him, he began by lowering his head.

And then he palmed the daggers and started to work them, clothing himself in anger against his enemy, picturing all the lessers he was going to kill.





Phury walked into the theater and took a seat in the back. The place was crowded, chatty, filled with young twosomes and legions of frat boys. He heard hushed voices and some that were loud. Listened to laughter and candy getting unwrapped, and slurping and munching.

When the movie came up the houselights dimmed, and everyone started yelling out lines.

He knew when the lesser approached. Could smell the sweetness in the air, even through the popcorn and the girlie perfumes emanating from the dating pairs.

A cell phone appeared in front of his face. “Take it. Put it up to your ear.”

Phury did and heard harsh breaths on the line.

The crowd in the theater yelled, “Damn it, Janet, let’s go screw!”

The lesser’s voice came from right behind his head. “Tell her you’re going to come with me without a problem. Promise her that she’ll live because you’re going to do what you’re told. And do it in English so I can understand you.”

Phury spoke into the phone, the exact string of words he used unknown to him. All he tracked was the fact that the female started sobbing.

The lesser yanked the phone back. “Now put these on.”

Steel handcuffs dropped in his lap. He cuffed himself and waited.

“You see that exit to the right? That’s where we’re headed. You’re going first and there’s a truck waiting just outside. You’re getting in the passenger-side door. The whole time I’m right behind you with the phone to my mouth. You f*ck with me, or I see any of your Brothers, and I’m going to have her slaughtered. Oh, and FYI, there’s a knife at her throat so there’s no time delay. We clear?”

Phury nodded.

“Now stand up and get moving.”

Phury rose to his feet and headed for the door. As he walked along he realized he’d had some thought of coming out of this alive. He was vicious good with weapons, and he’d packed a few in hidden places. But this lesser was smart, hog-tying him, trapping him with the life of that civilian female.

As Phury kicked open the theater’s side door, he knew without a doubt that he was kissing his ass good-bye tonight.





Zsadist came to by force of will, reaching out through the drug haze and grabbing onto consciousness. With a groan he dragged himself across the bath’s marble floor and onto the rug in the bedroom. Clawing his way across the carpet, pushing with his feet, he barely had the strength to will the door open when he got to it.

As soon as he was in the hall of statues, he tried to yell. At first it was only hoarse whispers, but then he got a holler out. And another. And another.

The pounding, running footsteps made him dizzy with relief.

Wrath and Rhage knelt by him and rolled him over. He cut through their questions, unable to follow all the words. “Phury…gone…Phury…gone…”

When his stomach heaved, he lurched back onto his side and threw up. The voiding helped, making him feel a little more clearheaded after it stopped.

“Have to find him…”

Wrath and Rhage were still firing questions, talking fast, and Z thought they were probably the cause of all the buzzing in his ears. Either that or his head was about to explode.

As he pushed his face off the carpet his vision spun, and he thanked God that dose of morphine had been calibrated for Bella’s weight. Because he was a mess.

His gut spasmed and he vomited again, losing it all over the rug. Shit… He never had been able to handle opiates.

More feet pounding down the hall. More voices. Someone wiping his mouth with a wet cloth. Fritz. When Z’s throat started working up another round of gags, a wastepaper basket was shoved in his face.

“Thank you,” he said as he threw up again.

With every heave, his mind was coming back online, his body, too. He stuffed two fingers down his throat to keep himself going. The faster he got that drug out of his system, the sooner he could go after Phury.

That heroic motherf*cker…God. He was going to kill his twin for this, he really was. Phury was the one who was supposed to live.

But where the hell had he been taken? And how to find him? The movie theater was the starting place, but they wouldn’t have stayed there long.

Zsadist started to do the dry-heave thing, because there was nothing left in his stomach. It was in the middle of the retching that the only solution came to him, and when it did, his stomach rolled from something other than the drug. The way to his twin violated every instinct he had.

More pounding down the hall. Vishous’s voice. A civilian emergency. A family of six trapped in their house, surrounded by lessers.