Lover Awakened (Black Dagger Brotherhood #3)(127)

The blaze of pain shot through Z’s shoulder. He knew he’d been plugged a good one, but he couldn’t think about that right now. He focused on getting control over the lesser’s gun, which was the same thing the SOB was trying to do to Z’s Sig. They struggled on the floor, each trying to get a grip on the other in spite of the blood that was oiling them up. Punches were thrown and hands grabbed and legs thrashed. Both guns were lost in the grappling.

About four minutes into the fight Z’s strength started to flag with alarming speed. Then he was on the bottom, the lesser sitting on his chest. Z gave a push, willing his body to throw the weight on it off, but though his mind gave the command, for once his limbs refused to obey. He glanced at his shoulder. He was bleeding out, no doubt because that slug had hit an artery. And that shot of morphine didn’t help.

In the lull of the fighting, the lesser was panting and wincing, like his leg was killing him. “Who…the f*ck…are you?”

“The one…you want,” Z shot back, breathing just as hard. Shit… He had to work to keep his vision from phasing out. “I’m the one…who took her…from you.”

“How…do…I know that?”

“I watched the scars…on her stomach heal. Until your mark…on her disappeared.”

The lesser froze.

Now would have been an excellent time to get the upper hand, except Z was too spent.

“She’s dead,” the slayer whispered.

“No.”

“Her portrait—”

“She lives. Breathes. And you will…never find her again.”

The slayer’s mouth opened and a primal scream of fury came out like a blast.

In the midst of the noise Z calmed down. Suddenly breathing was easy. Or maybe he’d just stopped altogether. He watched as the slayer moved in slo-mo, unsheathing one of Z’s black daggers and lifting the thing overhead with both hands.

Zsadist tracked his thoughts carefully because he wanted to know what his last one was going to be. He thought of Phury and wanted to weep, because no doubt his twin wouldn’t last long. God. He’d always failed that male, hadn’t he…?

And then he thought of Bella. Tears came to his eyes as images of her flickered through his mind…so vivid, so clear…until from over the lesser’s shoulder, a vision of her appeared. She was so real, it was as if she were actually standing in the doorway.

“I love you,” he whispered as his own blade came down toward his chest.

“David,” her voice commanded.

The lesser’s whole body jerked around, the dagger’s trajectory getting transferred so it landed in the floorboards next to Z’s upper arm.

“David, come here.”

The lesser lurched to his feet as Bella held her arm out.

“You were dead,” the lesser said, voice cracking.

“No.”

“I went to your house…. I saw the portrait. Oh, God…” The lesser started to cry as he limped closer and closer to her, black blood trailing after him. “I thought I’d killed you.”

“You didn’t. Come here.”

Z tried desperately to work his mouth, gripped by an awful suspicion that this was no vision. He started to yell, but it came out as a moan. And then the lesser was in Bella’s arms and weeping openly.

Z watched as her hand came around and went up onto the slayer’s back. In it was the little handgun, the one he’d given her before they’d gone to her house.

Oh, Sweet Virgin…No!





Bella was in a state of weird calm as she brought the gun higher and higher. Moving slowly, she kept murmuring words that soothed until the barrel was on a level with David’s skull. She leaned back, and as he lifted his head to meet her eyes, he brought his ear right to the muzzle.

“I love you,” he said.

She pulled the trigger.

The explosion kicked her hand out and spun her arm away, throwing her off balance. As the sound faded she heard a thud and looked down. The lesser was on his side, still blinking. She’d expected his head to blow up or something, but there was just a neat little hole at his temple.

Nausea hit her hard, but she ignored it, stepping over the body and going to Zsadist.

Oh, God. There was blood everywhere.

“Bella…” His hands lifted off the ground and his mouth worked slowly.

She cut him off by reaching for his chest holster and taking the remaining dagger from him. “I need to do it in his sternum, right?”

Ah, hell. Her voice was as bad as her body. Wobbly. Weak.

“Run…get…out of—”

“In the heart, right? Or he’s not dead. Zsadist, answer me!”

When he nodded, she went over to the lesser and pushed him onto his back with her foot. His eyes were staring up at her, and she knew she was going to be seeing them in her nightmares for years to come. Grabbing the knife with both hands, she put it up over her head, and plunged it down. The resistance the blade met sickened her to the point of gagging, but the popping sound and the flash of light were a closure of sorts.

She let herself fall back and hit the floor, but two breaths were all she could spare. She went to Zsadist, tearing off her coat and fleece. She wrapped the pullover around his shoulder, then stripped off her belt, looped it around the thick wad, and cinched it up tight to keep it in place.