The Jackal (Black Dagger Brotherhood: Prison Camp #1)(56)

“Get out,” Jabon said as he flushed with fury. “Get out!”

The Jackal jogged up the stairs, his back straight, his chin high.

In his absence, Rhage cursed and shook his head. “I do not believe for one moment that male did aught—”

“A word,” Jabon interjected, “if I may.”

As their host strode across the receiving area, he commanded something in a low tone unto the two females, and whatever it was, their compliance was prompt. And suspicious. In spite of the fact that a male who had supposedly done a terrible thing to them both had ascended unto the second floor, they returned upstairs as well in the wake of the apparent offender.

When Ellany looked over her shoulder, Rhage shook his head. But not at her. At the whole situation.

Jabon came forth into the parlor and shut the doors, pulling varnished panels closed. His fine clothes and natty style seemed a stage set, but then was that not what this all was about. This house, these guests, this social station of his.

“I bid you,” he said. “Listen unto the truth before you render judgment.”

Rhage scented the air around the male. All he got back was the choking bouquet of fancy oils that Jabon regularly applied unto himself. What mattered was what was upon the female, however Rhage was not going to traumatize her further by chasing after her just to smell her.

“Did you take that newling.” Rhage crossed his arms over his chest. “And do not lie unto me.”

“No, of course not.” Jabon placed his right hand upon his chest. “On my honor.”

“The Jackal’s protestation was quite clear. So was his accusation unto you.”

Darius spoke up. “And the male has been quite honorable in all my dealings with him.”

“You do not know him as I do.” Jabon walked over to the fireplace, and stared down at the white-barked birch logs that were stacked and unlit. “He is a liar. He’s lied about everything. Who he is, where he’s from, what he does.”

“And his story is what,” Rhage intoned.

“That he hails from an aristocratic line, and is here in Caldwell with all the rights and privileges thereto. But he has always refused to divulge his family colors. He is nothing but a drifter and a con male that seduced my sire into patronage—”

“Then why have him under your roof.”

“I just kicked him out,” Jabon countered with an edge.

“Because he was accused of an unthinkable violation of an innocent,” Rhage shot back. “Somehow I believe, if it had not happened the now, I would be sitting across from him at First Meal as we speak.”

“He is guilty! Am I supposed to tolerate such social disobedience and all the harms it exposes me to then?”

“Not the point.” Rhage tilted forward onto his hips. “And I am not worried about propriety. I am worried over that poor female. Fuck the social rules, are they truly all that bothers you in this?”

“Of course not.” Jabon waved his arms around. “And as for that male’s baseless accusation unto me, her scent is not upon me. Inhale well and know my truth.”

Rhage shook his head. Jabon had immediately stepped out of the dining room when the females had come down, so it was impossible to tell whether his scent was upon the air because of his presence in the foyer or because of what he’d left upon the dressing gown and flesh of the young female.

Their host clasped the front of his silk evening jacket. “I should never have invited the Jackal under my roof, and moreover, when his story began to be cast in doubt in my mind, I should have relieved his dubious presence of this house immediately. I regret not acting as such, and moreover, I regret that one who should never have suffered has been hurt by my failure of judgment. I will make this right. I swear upon my deceased sire’s soul.”

On the far side of the closed panels, Rhage’s ears picked up on a muffled rhythm descending the stairs. And then the front door opened and shut soundly.

Through the glass panes that faced out the front of the mansion, he witnessed a dark figure with a suitcase in hand stride down the walkway and take a right to progress away from the property.

The Jackal had departed with his possessions.

Abruptly, Rhage looked down at the suit coat that had been prepared for him. The slacks. The leather shoes.

Peeling off the formal jacket, he draped it over the back of a silk chair. Then he yanked off the cravat, loosened the waistband of the slacks, and kicked off the shoes.

As he disrobed, Jabon blinked in confusion, as if he had neither performed nor ever seen such actions before. Darius, on the other hand, rolled his eyes.

All the way to naked.

Rhage took it all off, and then itched his back and rolled his shoulders. “Thank you for the hospitality. You can keep these clothes. I’m leaving as I came in.”

Jabon stuttered. “You—you—you cannot depart thus! What will—”

“Do not ever ask me for anything, especially not unto this house,” Rhage announced. “And if you see me out upon the town, look away, walk away. I do not wish to be associated with anything under this roof, and I do not believe your story of that male who just took his leave of us. I have no proof, however. So do as you wish, but do not seek to entangle me—or I might just feel the need to share my opinions of you and this household and this situation with others of ready ear.”