Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4)(50)

And then there it was. On a little table beside the bed, sitting next to a phone, a four-month-old issue of Reader’s Digest and a colony of orange pill bottles: a ceramic jar about the size of a quart of milk.

He flipped open his phone and dialed Rhage. When the brother picked up, V said, “I’m outtie. I’ve got a laptop and the jar.”

He hung up, palmed the ceramic container and held it tightly against the hard body of the laptop. Then he dematerialized to the Pit, thinking how handy it was that humans didn’t line their walls with steel.





Chapter Fifteen




As Mr. X watched Van drive off, he knew the ask had come too soon. He should have waited until the guy was a little more hooked on the power trip he went on when he trained the slayers.

Except time was passing.

It wasn’t that he was worried about the loophole closing. The prophecy hadn’t said anything about that kind of thing. But the Omega had been righteous pissed when Mr. X had left him last. Hadn’t taken at all well the news that the contaminated human had been offed by the Brothers in that clearing in the woods. So the stakes were mounting, and not in X’s favor.

From out of nowhere, the center of his chest began to warm, and then he felt a beating where his heart once had been. The rhythmic pulse made him curse. Speak of the devil, the master was calling him.

Mr. X got into the minivan, started the thing up, and drove seven minutes across town to a shitty ranch house on a ratty lot in a bad neighborhood. Place still reeked like the meth lab it had been up until its former owner had been shot by a professional associate. Thanks to the lingering toxicity, the Society had gotten the digs at a discount.

Mr. X parked in the garage and waited until the door squeaked shut before getting out. After killing the security alarm he’d installed, he headed for the back bedroom.

As he went along, his skin was irritated and itchy, like he had a case of prickly heat all over his body. The longer he put off responding to the master, the worse it would get. Until he was crazed from the need to scratch at himself.

Settling on his knees and lowering his head, he didn’t want to get anywhere near the Omega. The master had radar instincts and Mr. X’s goals were now his own, not the Society’s. Problem was, when the Fore-lesser was called, he came as summoned. That was the deal.



As soon as Vishous walked into the Pit, he heard the quiet and hated it. Fortunately, within fifteen minutes of his cracking open that lesser’s laptop on his desk, there was a pounding on the door. He glanced at a monitor, then sprang the locks with his mind.

Rhage walked in munching on something, his hand shoved in a Ziploc bag. “Having any luck with Mr. Dell’s fine product?”

“What are you eating?”

“The last of Mrs. Woolly’s banana nut bread. It’s awesome. Want some?”

V rolled his eyes and went back to the laptop. “No, but you could bring me a bottle of Goose and a glass from the kitchen.”

“No problem.” Rhage made the delivery, then leaned against the wall. “So you find anything in there?”

“Not yet.”

When silence expanded until it crowded out the air in the Pit, V knew there was more to the visit than a checkin on the Dell.

Sure enough, Rhage said, “Listen, my brother—”

“I’m not much for company right now.”

“I know. That’s why they asked me to come.”

V glanced over the top of the computer. “And who’s ‘they’?” Even though he knew.

“The Brotherhood’s worried about you. You’re getting damn tight, V. Twitchy as shit and don’t deny it. Everyone’s noticed.”

“Oh, so Wrath asked you to come play Rorschach on me?”

“Direct order. But I was on my way over here anyway.”

V rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“It’s okay if you aren’t.”

No, it really was not. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go through this PC.”

“We going to see you at Last Meal?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Right.

V fiddled with the mouse and kept scanning through the computer’s file systems. As he stared at the screen, he noticed absently that his right eye, the one with the tats on its side, had started to flicker like the lid was shorting out.

Two massive fists knuckled down on the desk and Rhage leaned in tight. “You come or I come for you.”

As Vishous glared up at his brother, Rhage’s teal gaze just stared back from his towering height and his mind-bending beauty.

Oh, so they were going to play chicken with the eyeballs, huh? Well, f*ck you, V thought.

Except Vishous was the one who lost. Moments later, he looked down at the laptop, trying to make like he was just checking on something. “You need to back off, okay. Butch is my roommate, so of course I’m going to be bleeding for him. But it’s no big thing—”

“Phury told us. About your visions drying up.”

“Christ.” V burst out of his chair, pushed Rhage out of the way, and walked around. “That gum-flapping motherfu—”

“If it’s any consolation, Wrath didn’t really give him a choice.”

“So the king brass-knuckled it out of him?”