Lover Mine (Black Dagger Brotherhood #8)(171)

After he was finished with his wash-up, he stepped out of the shower

and went past her, nabbing a towel from a brass bar and wrapping it around his hips. In the mirror, he met her eyes.

I'll go get your cilices, he signed.

"John . . ."

When she didn't say anything more, he frowned, thinking this was the

pair of them in a nutshell: Standing three feet away from each other and being separated by miles.

He left and went into the bedroom, picking up a pair of jeans and

pulling them on. His leather jacket had been brought in with him to the clinic the night before and he'd left it there. Somewhere.

In his bare feet, he walked past the marble statues, down the grand

staircase, and around the corner to duck through the hidden door. Man . . .

going back into the tunnel was a total crusher; all he could think about was Xhex and him together in the dark.

Like a complete nancy, he wished like hell they could return to those suspended moments when nothing existed except their roaring bodies. Down here, their hearts had been free to pound . . . and sing.

Fucking real life.

Sucked ass.

He was striding toward the training center's entrance when Z's voice

stopped him.

"Yo, John."

John pivoted around, his bare feet squeaking on the tunnel floor. As

he raised his hand in greeting, the Brother came striding down from the mansion's door and Z was dressed for fighting, his black leathers and muscle shirt something that they would all be wearing before they headed out once again to hunt Lash. With the Brother's skull trim, and the ceiling lights streaming down across that jagged scar on his face, it was no wonder people were scared shitless of him.

Especially with his stare narrowed like that and his jaw set grimly.

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J. R.Ward

What's up, John signed as the Brother stopped in front of him.

When there was no immediate reply, John braced himself, thinking,

Oh . . . f*ck, now what.

What, he signed.

Zsadist exhaled a curse and started to pace around, his hands on his

hips, his eyes locked on the floor. "I don't even know where to frickin' start."

John frowned and eased back against the tunnel wall, ready for more

bad news. Although he sure as shit couldn't imagine what it was, life had a way of getting pretty damned creative, didn't it.

Eventually, Z halted and when he looked over, his stare was not

golden yellow, as it usually was when they were home. It was pitch-black.

Vicious black. And the male's face had gone the color of snow.

John straightened. Jesus . . . what's wrong?

"You remember all those walks you and I used to take in the woods.

Just before your transition . . . after you lost it with Lash the first time."

When John nodded, the Brother continued. "You ever ask yourself why Wrath put us together?"

John nodded slowly. Yeah . . .

"It wasn't a mistake." The Brother's eyes were cold and dark as the cellar in a haunted house, shadows making up not just the color of the irises but what lay behind that stare. "You and I have something in common. Do you understand what I'm saying. You and I . . . we have something in common."

At first John frowned again, not catching the drift--

Suddenly, he felt a cringing blast of cold shiver through his own body, one that reached his marrow. Z . . . ? Wait, had he heard it wrong? Was he taking this wrong?

Except then, clear as day, he remembered the two of them facing off

at each other--right after the Brother had read what that psychologist had put in John's medical record.

You get to pick how you deal with it, because it's no one else's biz , Z

had said . You never want to say another f*cking word on the subject, you're getting no lip from me.

At that moment, John had been amazed by the Brother's unexpected

understanding. As well as the fact that Z didn't seem to judge him or view him as weak.

Now he knew why.

God . . . Z?

The Brother held his palm up. "I'm not telling you this to freak you out, and f*ckin' A, I'd have preferred you never know--for reasons I'm sure 436

J. R.Ward

you get. But I'm bringing it up because of your female's scream this

morning."

John's brows pulled tight as the Brother took up pacing again.

"Look, John, I don't like people in my biz and I'm the last person who wants to talk about crap. But that scream . . ." Z faced off at John. "I've thrown too many of those out not to know what kind of hell you gotta be in to holler like that. Your girl . . . she's got some dark in her on a good day, but after Lash? I don't need no deets--but I can guess she's rattled and then some.

Hell, sometimes after you're safe again--it's almost worse."

John scrubbed his face as his temples started to pound, and then he

lifted his hands . . . only to find he had nothing to sign. The sadness that crushed him took his words away, leaving him with a strange, blank

numbness in his head.

All he could do was nod.

Zsadist clapped him briefly on the shoulder and then resumed his

back-and-forth. "Meeting and getting with Bella, that was my lifeboat. But it wasn't the only thing I needed. See, before we were mated proper, Bella left me--she took off and just left my ass for no damn good reason. I knew I had to do something to get my head on right if I was ever going to have a shot with her. So I talked to someone about . . . everything." Z cursed again and slashed his hand through the air. "And no, not some white coat at Havers's.