Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4)(33)

V wiped his mouth again. Weird, how males do shit like that.

Beth shook her head. “I wish John would come stay in the house with us. Sleeping in that chair, staying in the office…He spends so much time alone and he doesn’t eat enough anymore. Plus Mary says he won’t talk about what happened with Tohr and Wellsie at all. He just refuses to open up.”

“I don’t care what he talks about as long as he goes to the damn doctor.” Wrath’s wraparound sunglasses shifted over to V. “And how’s our other patient? Christ, I feel like we need an in-house physician around here.”

V reached for the Arby’s bag and took out sandwich number two. “Cop’s healing up. I think he’ll be out in a day or so.”

“I want to know what the f*ck was done to him. The Scribe Virgin’s giving me nothing on this one. She’s silent as stone.”

“I started the research yesterday. Began with the Chronicles.” Which were eighteen volumes in the Old Language of vampire history. God, talk about your wallbangers. The damn things were about as much fun as reading an inventory list for a hardware store. “If I don’t find anything, there are some other places to check. Compendiums of oral tradition that were reduced to writing, that kind of shit. It is highly improbable that in our twenty thousand years of taking up space on the planet something like this hasn’t happened before. I’m going to spend today working on it.”

Because as usual there’d be no sleep for him. It had been over a week since he’d REM’d out, and there was no reason to think things were going to be any different this afternoon.

Holy hell…being up for eight days straight was not good for his brain wave activity. Without going into a dream state regularly, psychosis could easily take root and rewire your circuits. It was a wonder he hadn’t lost it already.

“V?” Wrath said.

“Sorry? What?”

“You okay?”

Vishous bit into his roast beef and chewed. “Yeah, fine. Just fine.”



When night fell some twelve hours later, Van Dean stopped his truck underneath a maple tree on a nice, tidy little street.

He did not like this situation.

The house on the other side of the shallow lawn wasn’t trouble on the surface, just another whatever Colonial in this whatever neighborhood. The problem was the number of cars parked in the driveway. Four of them.

He’d been told he was meeting Xavier one-on-one.

Van cased the place from inside his truck. Shades were all down. Only two lights on inside. Porch light was off.

But there was a lot on the line. Saying yes to this gig meant he could kick the construction shit to the curb, reducing the wear and tear on his body. And he could make more than he did now by double so he could save something to survive on when he couldn’t fight anymore.

He got out and walked up to the front stoop. The ivy-themed welcome mat that he planted his boots on was just too frickin’ creepy.

The door swung open before he hit the bell. Xavier was on the other side, all big and bleached-out looking. “You’re late.”

“And you said we’d be meeting alone.”

“Worried you can’t handle company?”

“Depends on what kind it is.”

Xavier stepped to the right. “Why don’t you get in here and find out?”

Van stayed on the mat. “Just so you know, I told my brother I was coming here. Address and everything.”

“Which brother, the older or the younger?” Xavier smiled as Van narrowed his eyes. “Yes, we know about them. As you say, their addresses and everything.”

Van put his hand into the pocket of his parka. The nine-millimeter he was packing slid into his palm like the thing was finding home.

Money, think about the money.

After a moment, he said, “We going to get down to it or keep yakking it up in this draft?”

“I’m not the one on the wrong side of the door, son.”

Van came in, keeping an eye on Xavier. Inside, the place was cold, like the heat was down low or maybe the house was abandoned. The lack of furniture suggested the latter.

When Xavier reached into his back pocket, Van tensed up. And what came forward was a weapon of sorts: ten perfectly crisp hundred-dollar bills.

“So do we have a deal?” Xavier asked.

Van looked around. Then took the money and stashed it. “Yeah.”

“Good. You start tonight.” Xavier turned and walked to the back of the house.

Van followed, staying on high alert. Especially as they went down into the basement and he saw six more of Xavier standing around at the bottom of the stairs. The men were all tall, pale-haired, and smelling like old lady.

“Looks like you’ve got a few brothers of your own,” Van said casually.

“They’re not brothers. And don’t use that word around here.” Xavier glanced over at the hardasses. “These will be your trainees.”



Moving under his own steam, but watched by a nurse in full hazmat dress, Butch got back into bed after having had his first shower and shave. The catheter and the IV were out and he’d managed to suck back a good meal. He’d also slept soundly for eleven out of the past twelve hours.

Man…he was beginning to feel human again, and the speed with which he was rebounding was a gift from God as far as he could tell.