Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #9)(152)

The stench was indescribable. Likely because it shot directly into his nose and shut down his brain, it was so frickin’ awful.

But he did recognize it. The guy with the Sox hat had reeked of it that night Manny had operated on the vampires.

Cocking his phone, he called up Vishous’s supersecret number and hit send. The line barely rang once before Payne’s twin answered.

“I got it,” Manny said. “It’s everything you told me about—man, the smell. Right. Yeah. Got it. Talk to you in two.”

As he hung up, part of him was losing it, thinking of Payne’s possibly have been involved in what was clearly a bloodbath. But he kept it together as he searched around for something, anything, that could tell them what had happened—

“Manny?”

“Motherf*cker!” As he spun on his heel, he grabbed his cross—or maybe it was his heart, so the damn thing didn’t break out from behind his sternum. “Jane?”

The ghostly form of his former head of trauma solidified before his eyes. “Hi.”

His first thought was, Oh, God, the sun—which showed just how much his life had changed. “Wait! Are you okay with daylight—”

“I’m fine.” She reached out and calmed him. “I’ve come to help—V told me where you were.”

He gripped her shoulder briefly. “I am . . . really f*cking glad to see you.”

Jane gave him a quick, hard hug. “We’re going to find her. I promise.”

Yeah, but what kind of condition was she going to be in?

Working together, the pair of them scoured the alleyway, weaving in and out of both the shadows and the lit parts. Thank God it was still early and this was a deserted part of the city, because he was not in a mind-set where he could deal with the complication of people—especially the police—showing up.

Over the next half hour, he and Jane went through every square inch of the alley, but all they found were the remnants of drug use, some litter and a number of condoms he had no intention of looking very closely at.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “Goddamn nothing.”

Fine. Whatever. He was just going to keep moving, keep combing, keep hoping—

A rattling sound snapped his head around and then took him over to the Dumpster.

“Something’s making a noise over here,” he called out as he knelt down. Except knowing their luck, it was nothing more than a rat having breakfast.

Jane came over just as he reached under the bin. “I think . . . I think it’s a phone,” he grunted as he stretched and paddled with his fingertips, hoping to get purchase—“Got it.”

Easing back, he found that, yup, it was a busted-up cell phone and the thing was ringing on vibrate, which explained the noise. Unfortunately, whoever was calling dumped into voice mail just as he tried to hit answer and got locked out.

“Man, there’s inky shit all over it.” He wiped his hand clean on the edge of the Dumpster—which was saying something. “And the thing’s password-protected.”

“We need to take it back to V—he can hack into anything.”

Manny got to his feet and looked over at her. “I don’t know if I’m allowed there.” He tried to hand the phone over. “Here. You take it, and I’ll see if I can find any other sites like this.”

Although honestly, it seemed like he’d been through all of downtown.

“Wouldn’t you rather know what’s going on firsthand?”

“Fuck, yeah, but—”

“And if V finds something, wouldn’t you rather go out to deal with it with the right equipment?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“So haven’t you ever heard of doing something and apologizing after the fact?” As he popped a brow, she shrugged. “It’s how I dealt with you at the hospital for years.”

Manny tightened his hand on the cell phone. “Are you serious?”

“I’ll drive us back to the compound, and if anyone has a problem, I’ll take care of it. And may I suggest we stop by your house first and get anything you might need to stay a while?”

He slowly shook his head. “If she doesn’t come—”

“No. We don’t say ‘doesn’t.’ ” Jane’s eyes were dead on his. “When she comes home, no matter how long it takes, you will be there. V said you’ve left your job—because Payne told him. And we can talk about that later—”

“There’s nothing to discuss. The St. Francis board all but asked me to resign.”

Jane swallowed hard. “Oh, God . . . Manny . . .”

Christ, he couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth: “It doesn’t matter, Jane. As long as she comes back okay—that’s all I care about.”

She nodded over at the car. “So why are we still talking?”

Good f*cking point.

They both ran for the Porsche, strapped in, and took off with Jane behind the wheel.

As she sped over to the Commodore, he was transformed by purpose: He’d blown his shot with his woman once. It was not happening again.

Jane live-parked in front of the high-rise while he jogged into the foyer, shot up the elevator, and hit his place. Moving lightning-fast, he grabbed his laptop, his cell phone charger—