The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #13)(90)

Manny hit the gas and the souped-up RV’s engine revved, taking them onward so they could go around the block to the back.

“You hear me?” Rhage demanded.

“Yeah, I did.” Manny took a deep breath. “You know what the hardest thing to learn about medicine is?”

“Biochem.”

“No.”

“Human anatomy. ’Cuz it’s gross.”

The blinker made a nuk-nuk-nuk sound as the good doctor announced to the world, or at least this street, that they were taking another left around the skyscraper’s footprint.

“It’s that there are situations where there’s nothing you can do.”

Rhage rubbed his eyes. Something out of his subconscious was coming back to him, something he didn’t want.

“Rhage?”

“Huh?”

“You made a funny noise there.”

As Manny came up to the service bays, he pulled a neat little driver’s-ed-style K-turn so that he was able to back that ass right against the building. Shutting things down, he turned in his seat.

“You sure you’re all right?”

“Oh. Yeah. Uh-huh.”

“You don’t look right. And check out what I’m wearing. Scrubs. You know what that means.”

“That you like having your pj’s on all night?”

“That I’m a doctor and I know what I’m talking about.”

“Don’t get paranoid, big guy.”

There was a heartbeat or twelve of silence. Then Manny said, “There is nothing I won’t do to keep her with him. Nothing.”

Now Rhage was the one pulling the pivot. “That’s what I needed to hear, Doc.”

“Just don’t put your faith in miracles, Hollywood. That’s a dangerous bet.”

“It happened for me and Mary. When we needed one, we got one.”

Manny stared out the front windshield—and didn’t appear to see anything of the darkened street ahead. “I’m not God. And neither is Doc Jane.”

Rhage resettled in his seat. “You need to have hope. They just have to have hope.”





THIRTY-THREE


As the prison cell’s door panel slid back into the wall, iAm wheeled around. But it still wasn’t s’Ex. And it wasn’t another bedding platform. And it wasn’t more books he would not read or blankets he would not use or pillows he could give a rat’s ass about.

It was that maid with another meal.

“Oh, come on,” he spat, throwing up his hands. “Where the f*ck is s’Ex!”

The female said nothing; she simply walked forward with that tray of hers as the door slid back into place, locking them in together.

As she lowered herself to her knees, he wanted to scream. So he did.

“I’m not f*cking eating that! Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you people!”

The only thing that stopped him from marching over, picking up that frickin’ food, and slinging it across the room was the fact that it wasn’t the maichen’s fault. s’Ex blowing him off had nothing to do with her, and terrorizing the damn maid wasn’t going to get him any closer to freedom and returning to Trez.

She was an innocent third party caught up in this bullshit just like he was.

Exhaling in a burst, he hung his head. It took him a couple of heartbeats before he was under any semblance of control. “I’m sorry.”

At that, her head jerked up to level, and for a moment, especially as that scent of hers reached him, he wished he could see her eyes.

What shape were they? What did her lashes look like? Were the irises as dark as his—

Why the f*ck was he thinking like this?

Breaking off from her, he started walking around. “I gotta get out of here. Time is running out.”

As her head tilted to the side in inquiry, he thought, no. Not gonna go there.

He nodded down at the tray. “If you want to leave the food, I’ll flush it down the toilet so that you don’t get in trouble for not feeding me.”

And that was when she spoke: “It is not poisoned.”

For absolutely no good reason, those four run-of-the-mill words stopped him dead. Her voice was deeper than he had expected; all her subservience seemed better paired with some high-octave, super-feminine tone. And there was a husky undertone … which made him think about sex.

Raw sex. The kind that left females hoarse from calling out the name of their lover.

iAm blinked.

All at once, he had the urge to cover his naked body. Which was kind of bullshit, wasn’t it. He’d known she was a female all along and it wasn’t like he’d ever had any clothes on in front of her.

Giving in to the impulse, he went over behind the screen, to the stack of towels that had been placed by the inset tub. As he wrapped one around his hips, he felt like apologizing for ever having aired his junk at all.

When he came back around, she was sampling the soup and the bread again.

“You can stop,” he said. “I’m not going to eat.”

“Why?”

Again, with that voice. Even on only one word this time.

“I gotta get out of here,” he muttered. For a whole f*cking lot of reasons. “I have to get out.”

“Does something await you?”