Lover Mine (Black Dagger Brotherhood #8)(183)

The scent of Xhex's blood changed everything, derailing the slice.

Oh, Jesus. . . . The f*cking bastard had had two knives. One that had been at her throat. And another that had penetrated her in the gut.

Xhex rolled over on her back, grabbing her side with a grimace.

As Lash writhed and clasped his head and chest, Tohr arrived with

Qhuinn and Blay and the other Brothers, all their guns pointed at their enemy, so John didn't have to worry about coverage as he assessed the damage.

John leaned down to Xhex.

"I'm okay," she gasped out. "I'm okay . . . I'm okay. . . ."

The hell she was. She could barely breathe, and the hand that she had against the wound was covered with shiny, fresh blood.

John started to sign frantically. Call for Doc Jane--

"No!" she burst out, grabbing his arm with her bloody hand. "I only care about one thing right now."

As her eyes locked on Lash, John's heart slammed against his rib

cage.

From overhead, Z said, "Butch and V are bringing the Escalade over from the Xtreme Park--mother f*cker . . . we got company."

John glanced down the alley. Four lessers had stepped into view . . .

evidence that the address on the Civic's registration had been right, even though the timing was now very wrong.

"We've got 'em," Z hissed as he and the group raced back to engage the new arrivals.

The sound of laughter refocused John. Lash was grinning widely, the

unholy anatomy of his face pulled into a crazy-ass smile.

"John, boy . . . I f*cked her, John. . . . I f*cked her hard and she liked it."

White rage tore through John, the bonded male in him screaming, the

464

J. R.Ward

dagger in his hand rising up once again.

"She begged me, John. . . ." The breath that was drawn in was ragged, but satisfied. "Next time you're with her . . . remember I fill--"

"I never wanted it!" Xhex spat. "Never!"

"Filthy female," Lash sneered. "That's what you were and what you'll stay. Filthy and mine--"

Everything slowed down for John, everything from how the three of

them were clustered together to the way the wind whiffled through the alley to the fight that had broken out a hundred yards away by the Mercedes.

He thought of his own violation long ago in that stairwell. Pictured

Xhex going through similar humiliation and degradation. Recalled what Z

had said he'd been through. Remembered what Tohr had suffered.

And in the midst of the recollections, he felt the echo of something

long, long ago, something of another abduction, another female hurt

wrongly, another life ruined.

Lash's horrific face and his decrepit, melting form became the

embodiment of all of it: a festering, rotting, tangible representation of all the evil in the world, all the pain caused with deliberation, all the cruelty and debasement and malicious joy.

All the deeds done in a moment that had repercussions which lasted a

lifetime.

"I f*cked her, John, boy--"

With a slashing arch, John's dagger arm plunged downward.

At the last second, he twisted his wrist so that the head of the hilt caught Lash right in the face. And the bonded male in him wanted to do what he'd done to that slayer back at the brownstone--nothing but complete evisceration.

Except then he'd be cheating this situation of the kind of divine justice so few people got. His wrong had never been righted--that human piece of shit who'd hurt him had gotten clean away. And Tohr's wrong could never be righted, because Wellsie was never coming back.

But Z had gotten his closure.

And goddamn it, so would his Xhex . . . even if that was the last thing in this world she did.

John had tears in his eyes as he took one of her bloodied hands from

her wound . . . and opened it wide.

Turning his dagger around, he placed the hilt onto her palm. As her

eyes flared, he closed her hold on his weapon and moved around to help prop her up and get her within range.

Lash's chest was going up and down, his skinless throat flexing while 465

J. R.Ward

he drew his breath and blew it back out. As light dawned on him and he got a picture of what was coming, lidless eyes stretched in their sockets and his lipless mouth pulled off his teeth in a smile that was the stuff of horror movies.

He tried to say something, but he couldn't quite get it out.

Which was good. He'd already said too much, done too much, hurt too

much.

Time had come for his reckoning.

In his arms, John felt Xhex gathering her strength and he watched as

she took her other hand from her wound to aid in gripping his weapon. Her stare burned with hatred as she took over from there, a sudden surge of power in her body lifting her arms to form an arch above Lash's sternum.

The bastard knew what was coming, though, and blocked the blow by

covering his chest.

Oh, hell, no. John shot out and grabbed both of the guy's biceps,

forcing the * flat onto the ground, exposing the expanse she needed to hit, giving her the clearest and best shot.

As her eyes rose to John's, there was a telltale sheen of red across

them, her tears making her irises glow: All the pain she'd borne in her heart was as exposed as Lash's ugliness, all the burden on her and in her made manifest in her stare.