The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #13)(146)

V was still cursing as they took off and traveled home through the cold night air. As they arrived at the courtyard in front of the mansion, they found iAm staring up at the house’s facade like he was expecting Godzilla to clubfoot it over the roof and do a clean sweep with that barbed tail.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Rhage asked.

iAm jumped. “Oh, shit.”

As the wind changed direction and carried the male’s scent over, Rhage popped his brows. The Shadow was covered with the smell of a female—and not as in store-bought perfume.

Oh, shit was right.

In all the time they’d known the guy, iAm had never paid any particular attention to the females. Or the males. Personally, Rhage had always thought the poor bastard was suffering from Phury Syndrome—a condition whereupon one brother was so f*cked-up that the other fell into a black hole trying to save him.

Unfortunately, it didn’t look like Trez was going to come out of his tailspin anytime soon. But clearly, iAm had done something for himself.

By doing someone else.

Good for him, Rhage thought. About time the male had a break.

“So,” V drawled as he lit up a handrolled. “How was your night, Shadow.”

Clearly, he’d noticed the scent, too.

“Fine,” iAm said.

“Mm-hmm.” V exhaled. “Do anything in particular?”

“No. You?”

“Nada,” Rhage replied as the three of them started for the vestibule. “Business as use.”

Actually, the night with Assail had been straight-up frustrating, but more than that, he’d kept waiting for word from his Mary about the female who’d been taken to Havers’s in a coma. Nothing. He’d heard nothing. Was she alive? Dead?

Goddamn, he’d met that mahmen only once—on the horrific night when they’d rescued her and her young from that abusive male. But the situation was bothering his Mary, weighing on her—and that meant it was really on his radar, too.

Plus, his shellan hadn’t been home now in two nights.

And he was beginning to get desperate.

Cell phones were no substitute for contact.

Not the kind he needed from her, at any rate.

As they filed into the vestibule, Rhage put his puss into the security camera’s lens. A second later, the lock was thrown and they went into the foyer. Last Meal was getting its groove on, doggen busy bringing food into the dining room, people gathering in the archway, more members of the household coming down the stairs.

iAm looked like he was ready to bolt, his eyes locking on the red carpet that ran up the stairs to the second floor—as if, in his mind, he was already halfway to his bedroom. Out of sight.

No doubt fast on his way to the shower.

Even though he’d just looked at his phone and the thing was on vibrate, Rhage took his cell out again, and rechecked to see if he’d missed anything—

Lassiter came out of the billiards room, his blond-and-black hair braided into a thick rope that came down over his pecs. He had a Yoo-hoo box in one hand and a sleeve of Starburst in the other and enough gold on him to give his body a karat weight of its own.

“Anyone else catch Real Housewives of New Jersey?”

People turned and stared at the guy.

“How are you still a guest in this house?” someone asked. “Haven’t you left yet?”

“I’ll call him a cab,” somebody else muttered. “Or maybe we can just airmail him off the mountain.”

“I got a potato launcher,” Butch said. “Small bore, but we can force him into the thing.”

“Oh, I ain’t leaving.” Lassiter smiled. “Come on, like I’d miss all this great free food and cable—wait a minute.” Those strange-colored glittering eyes narrowed on iAm … and then he shouted, “Holy shit, you got laid!”

In the frozen silence that followed, Rhage smacked himself in the head. “Angel, your tact meter is even more broken than mine, buddy.”





FIFTY-SEVEN


“So what’s on your mind, First Adviser?”

Abalone bowed as Wrath addressed him. “Thank you, my lord.” Stepping into the audience room, he closed the sliding door behind him. “Thank you very much.”

“Must be serious for you to shut us in together,” the King murmured.

“My lord…” He cleared his throat. “I seek always to serve you. In all ways.”

“Stipulated. So what’s doing?”

Not for the first time, Abalone wished he could see the male’s eyes. Then again, maybe it was better that those wraparounds hid so much. He preferred having proper control over his colon.

The presences of Phury and Zsadist registered, as did the reality of the time. They had no more than five or ten minutes left before they would have to return Wrath to the compound. But this couldn’t wait.

“My lord, I appreciate your allowing Paradise to stay here. It is most generous of you—”

“But you want her back home with you and you don’t like Throe being there.”

Abalone closed his eyes. “Yes, my lord. She is … the separation is more difficult than I anticipated. And please know it is not that I feel she is unsafe here. She is probably more safe—”

“I put you in a really shitty situation, didn’t I,” Wrath cut in. “It’s not fair to ask you to play babysitter for some * like that at the expense of your own personal life. I apologize.”