Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #9)(100)

“How dare you! You know naught of him.”

V leaned in to her. “And neither do you. Which is my f*cking point.”

Before shit got really out of control, he spun around to leave, only to catch sight of them all in the mirror on the wall. What a f*cking tableau they were: his sister, naked and unashamed; the human, wet and grim; himself, wild eyed and ready to kill something.

Rage built up so fast and so high, it broke free before he even recognized the emotion.

Vishous took two steps over, reared back his head, and slammed his face into the glass, shattering the reflection to f*ck and gone.

As his sister screamed and the surgeon shouted, he left them to their own devices and stalked off.

Out in the hall, he knew precisely where he was going.

Out in the tunnel, he was oh, so very aware of what he was about to do.

As he went, the blood dripped down his cheeks and off his chin, the red tears falling onto his chest and his abs.

He didn’t feel any pain at all.

But with any luck, he would. Very soon.





THIRTY-FIVE


By the time Payne got herself dressed and went out into the hall, her twin was gone.

The blood on the floor told her in which direction he had headed, however, and she followed the trail down the corridor and into the glass-enclosed space marked OFFICE. Inside, the little specks of red cut a path around the desk and disappeared through a door, so she went over and opened up—

Just a closet. Nothing but supplies of papers and writing instruments.

There was more to it, however. There had to be. The track of droplets terminated at a wall of shelving.

Patting around, she searched for a lever or release to shift the casing over, all the while replaying the scene of the mirror smashing. She had such fear, not for herself, but for Vishous—and what she had driven him to. Again.

She had wanted a relationship with her brother. Not like this, though.

Never this toxic interplay.

“You getting anywhere?”

She looked over her shoulder at her healer. Standing in the doorway to the office, he was still wet, but no longer dripping, and had a white towel wrapped around his neck. His short, dark hair was askew, as if he had rubbed it dry and left it as it stood.

“I cannot find the way through.” And wasn’t that apt on so many levels.

Payne wasted some time just staring at the neatly lined-up stacks of yellow pads and boxes of pens and orderly rows of things the purposes of which she could only guess at. When she finally gave up and stepped out, her healer was still in the doorway to the office, still staring at her. His eyes were black with emotion, his lips thin . . . and for some reason, his expression made her realize how fully clothed he was.

How fully clothed he had always been whenever he had lain with her.

He hadn’t let her touch him, had he.

“You agree with my brother,” she said darkly. “Do you not.”

It was not a question. And she was not surprised when he nodded. “This isn’t a long-term thing,” he said with horrible gentleness. “Not for you.”

“So that is why I have not had the pleasure of your sex.”

His brows flared briefly, as if her candor discomforted him. “Payne . . . this can’t work between us.”

“Says who. It is our choice whom we—”

“I’ve got a life to go back to.”

As her breath grew tight, she thought . . . how incredibly arrogant of her. It had never occurred to her that he had somewhere else to go. Then again, just as her brother had pointed out, how much did she know of him?

“I’ve got family,” he continued. “A job. A horse I have to go see.”

Payne walked over to him, approaching him with her head high. “Why do you assume it is an either/or? And before you try, do not waste words telling me you do not want me. I know it is true—your scent does not lie.”

He cleared his throat. “Sex isn’t everything, Payne. And when it comes to you and me, even that’s just about getting you to where you are now.”

At that, another chill ran through her, sure as if there were a draft in the room. But then she shook her head. “You wanted me, healer. When you came back here and saw me in that bed—your scent was nothing about the condition I was in, and you are a coward if you pretend otherwise. Hide if you will, healer—”

“My name is Manny,” he snapped. “Manuel Manello. I was brought here to help you—and in case you haven’t noticed, you’re on your feet. So I have. Right now? I’m just waiting until you people rip into my brain again and leave me strapped to separate night from day and dreams from reality. This is your world, not mine, and there is only either/or.”

Their eyes locked together, and in that moment, if the facility had been on fire, she would not have been able to look away . . . and neither, she realized, would he.

“If it could work,” she said roughly, “if you were allowed to come and go as you pleased, would you stay with me.”

“Payne—”

“My question is clear. Answer it. Now.” As his brows rose, she could not tell whether he was excited or repulsed by her brashness, and she did not care in that moment. “The truth is what it is, spoken or not. So we might as well have it all out.”

He slowly shook his head. “Your brother doesn’t think—”