Lover Awakened (Black Dagger Brotherhood #3)(139)

“Zsadist, that’s not necessary.”

Suddenly he stopped. “Are you sure you want my young?”

“Oh, yes. Oh, dear Virgin, yes. Even more now…” She smiled up at him. Took his hand. Placed it on her lower belly. “You’re going to be a wonderful father.”

And that was when he fell over in a dead faint.





Zsadist opened his eyes to find Bella looking down at him with love shining out of her face. All around his periphery there were other members of the household, but she was the only one he saw.

“Hi, there,” she said softly.

He reached up and touched her face. He was not going to cry. He was not—

Oh, to hell with it.

He smiled up at her as the tears started rolling. “I hope…I hope it’s a little girl who looks just like—”

His voice cut out. And then, yeah, like a complete flipping nancy, he broke down totally and wept like an idiot. In front of all the Brothers. And Butch. And Beth. And Mary. He was no doubt horrifying Bella with his weakness, but he couldn’t help himself. This was the first time in his whole life that he had ever felt…blessed. Fortunate. Lucky. This moment, this perfect, shimmering moment in time, this one, sublime moment where he was flat on his back in the foyer, with his beloved Bella, and the young inside her, and the Brotherhood around him…this was his very luckiest day.

When his pathetic sobbing dried up, Rhage knelt down, grinning so wide his perfect cheeks were about to split. “We came running when your noggin cracked into the floor. Put ’er there, daddy-o. Can I teach the little bugger how to fight?”

Hollywood held out his hand, and as Zsadist took hold of it to shake, Wrath got down on his haunches. “Congratulations, my brother. May blessings from the Virgin be upon you and your shellan and your young.”

By the time Vishous and Butch offered their laudatory words, Z was sitting up. Mopping up. God, he was such a pansy, crying all over himself. Shit. Good thing none of them seemed to mind.

As he took a deep breath, he looked around for Phury…and there his twin was.

In the two months since Phury’s night out with that lesser, his hair had already grown down to his jawline, and the scar he’d put on his face was long gone. But his eyes were flat and sad. And they were sadder now, too.

Phury came forward and everyone got quiet.

“I should like to be an uncle,” he said quietly. “I’m so happy for you, Z. You too…Bella.”

Zsadist grabbed for Phury’s palm and squeezed so hard he could feel his twin’s bones. “You’re going to be a fine uncle.”

“And perhaps the ghardian?” Bella volunteered.

Phury bowed his head. “I would be honored to be the young’s ghardian.”

Fritz bustled in with a silver tray of slender glass flutes. The doggen was glowing and all atwitter with happiness. “To toast the occasion.”

Voices mixed and mingled and glasses were passed and laughter sounded. Zsadist looked at Bella as someone put a flute in his hand.

I love you, he mouthed. She smiled back at him and pressed something into his hand. Her necklace.

“You keep this on you always,” she whispered. “For good luck.”

He kissed her hand. “Always.”

Abruptly Wrath rose to his towering height, lifted up his champagne, and tilted back his head. In a tremendous, booming voice, he hollered so loud, you could have sworn the walls of the mansion shook.

“To the young!”

Everyone shot to their feet, raised their glasses, and yelled at the top of their lungs, “To the young!”

Ah, yes… Surely their chorus of voices was bold and deafening enough to carry to the Scribe Virgin’s sacred ears. Which was precisely as tradition demanded.

What a true and proper toast, Z thought as he tugged Bella down to kiss her on the mouth.

“To the young!” the household all shouted once more.

“To you,” he said against Bella’s lips. “Nalla.”





Chapter Fifty


“Yeah, well, I could have done without the passing-out part,” Z muttered as he pulled into the driveway of the safe house Bella’s family was living in. “And that whole bawling-my-eyes-red routine, too. Definitely could have lost that one. Christ.”

“I thought you were very sweet.”

With a groan he killed the engine, palmed his SIG Sauer, and went around to help her from the Escalade. Damn it. She already had the door open and was stepping out into the snow.

“Wait for me,” he barked, grabbing for her arm.

She shot him a level stare. “Zsadist, if you keep treating me like a wineglass, I’m going to go nuts over the next sixteen months.”

“Listen, female, I don’t want you slipping on this ice. You’re wearing high heels.”

“Oh, for the love of the Virgin…”

He shut her car door, kissed her quickly, then put his arm around her waist and led her up the front walkway of a big, Tudor-style house. He scanned the snow-covered yard, his trigger finger itchy as hell.

“Zsadist, I want you to put the gun away before you meet my brother.”

“No problem. We’ll be in the house by then.”

“We’re not going to get jumped here. We’re out in the middle of nowhere.”