Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #9)(156)

Maybe it explained his hot-blooded temper, too.

And after a lifetime of wondering about his father and his roots, he thought . . . he could find out the truth now.

Except as they stared back at him, he remembered heading into the hospital the week before and thinking it was morning only to find out it was night. And then the shit with Payne and his body changing came to mind.

“You know what?” he said. “I think I’m good.”

When Jane nodded as if she agreed with him, he was sure he was on the right train.

Besides, they were getting distracted from the real issue.

“Payne is going to come back, someway, somehow,” he said. “And I’m not sucking on a loaded gun right before I see her again—even if it means the difference between belonging in this world or not. I know who my father is—and I’m f*cking looking at his reflection right now standing across from me. That’s as far as I need to go—unless Payne feels differently.”

God . . . his mother, he thought abruptly. Had she known?

As Vishous crossed his arms over his chest, Manny braced himself for an arguement.

“I like your white ass,” the guy said instead. “I really do.”

Considering what the bastard had walked in on not so long ago, this was a surprise. But he’d take it. “Okay, we agree. My woman wants it—I’ll do it. But otherwise, I’m good with who I am.”

“Fair enough,” Wrath pronounced.

At that point, there was nothing but silence. Although what was there to say? The reality of where Payne was—and was not—hung around everyone’s neck.

Manny had never felt so powerless in his life.

“’Scuse me,” his semi-brother said, “I need another drink.”

As Butch peeled off and went into the other room, Manny watched him disappear through an elaborate archway. “You know, I’ll second that on the hooch.”

“My house is yours,” the king said darkly. “Bar’s that way.”

Fighting back an odd urge to bow, Manny nodded instead. “Thanks, man.” When knuckles were presented, he tapped them and then gave Jane and her husband a nod.

The room he walked into was like the best horse racing hospitality suite anyone had ever seen. Hell, they even had a popcorn machine.

“More Lag?” the guy muttered from across the way.

Manny pivoted and found himself measuring one f*ck of a bar. “Yeah. Please.”

He brought his glass over, and gave it to the man. And when the sound of Scotch splashing seemed loud as a scream, he wandered up to a sound system that could probably be used to play Madison Square Garden.

Pushing the buttons, he called up a mix of . . . gangsta rap.

Quick shift and he was into the high-def radio, on a search for the metal station. As Slipknot’s “Dead Memories” started banging, he took a deep breath.

Nightfall. He was just waiting for nightfall.

“Here,” the cop said, delivering the liquor. With a grimace, he nodded to one of the speakers. “You like that shit?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s one way we ain’t related.”

Payne’s twin put his head into the room. “What the hell is that noise?” Like someone had decided to speak in tongues. Or maybe bust out some Justin Bieber.

Manny just shook his head. “It’s music.”

“Only if you say so.”

Manny rolled his eyes and retreated into a very dark, dangerous place in his mind. The reality that there was nothing he could do for his woman at the moment made him want to hurt something. And the fact that it appeared he had some vampire in him was exactly the kind of revelation he did not need on a day like today.

God, he felt like death.

“Pool, anyone?” he said numbly.

“Fuck, yeah.”

“Absolutely.”

Jane stepped in and gave him a quick hug. “Count me in.”

Guess he wasn’t the only one desperate for a distraction.





FIFTY-FIVE


As Payne sat on something padded with her hands in her lap, she surmised that she was in a car because the subtle vibrating sensation was similar to what she had felt when she had traveled beside Manuel in his Porsche. She could not visually confirm such, however, because just as the Bloodletter’s soldier had promised, she was blindfolded. The scent of the male in charge was beside her, however; although he was frozen in place, so someone else had to be piloting the vehicle.

Naught had happened to her in the intervening hours betwixt their confrontation and this ride now: She had passed the daylight time sitting on the leader’s bed, knees tucked in against her chest, both of the guns next to her on the rough blanket. No one had bothered her, however, so after a while she’d stopped prickling at each noise from above and relaxed some.

Thoughts of Manuel had soon commanded the majority of her attention, and she had played and replayed scenes from their tooshort time together until her heart ached from the agony. Before she’d known it, though, the leader came back down to her and asked her if she required a repast before they left.

No, she hadn’t wanted to eat.

Thereafter, he had blindfolded her with a pristine white cloth—one so clean and lovely that it made her wonder where he had come up with it. And then he took her elbow in a firm grip and led her slowly up the stairs he had carried her down previously.