The Jackal (Black Dagger Brotherhood - Prison Camp 1)

“My sire was not formally mated unto my mahmen. And yes, I got my eye color from him.” Rhage shrugged helplessly. “I was told all of my blooded brothers had died, but when I look in your face? Anyway, I had that flash of recognition when I met you as well, but I didn’t make the connection, because I didn’t think it was possible. Not with what I knew of my family.”

“My mahmen . . . on her deathbed, she made me promise I would never go in search of my father. I have had a century to ponder it, and I believe . . . well, I think she felt as though she had had an affair with my sire. She did not want to ruin a family.”

“Our sire was not mated unto my mahmen, as I said. So there was nothing to break up. And in any event, that is all in the past. We have now, though. We have the present. Let’s start as we mean to go on, shall we?” Rhage put his palm out. “Oh, and by the way, nice to properly meet you.”

Jack clasped the dagger hand that was extended to him. And then he was pulled into a hard embrace.

“Welcome to the family,” Rhage announced before stepping back.

“How can you accept me so readily? Do you not want some kind of proof?”

“How many people do you know with eyes like ours? Yours, mine, and your son’s?”

“Not many.” Jack thought about it. “None, actually.”

“There you go. We can do a Maury if you’d like, though.”

“What’s a Maury?”

Rhage blinked. And then clapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Oh, the things that are waiting for you here in this age of TV and the Internet. Now, you ready to come inside and check out what you planned with all those drawings?”

Clearing his throat, to keep the emotions down, Jack looked up again at the mansion’s exterior. The leaded glass windows were glowing with light, a beautiful sight.

“It’s just as I constructed it,” he said. “I can’t wait to speak to Darius about—”

“I’m really sorry.”

Jack glanced over to ask what the low-voiced, grim apology was for. But instantly, he knew by the expression on Rhage’s face what it was about.

Jack hung his head for a moment. “When did Darius die? Please tell me he got a chance to see this? It was his dream.”

“He saw the house. But he was called unto the Fade before he saw it full.”

“Your loss must be so great.”

“Yeah. It is. And it happened not so long ago.” Rhage indicated the entry. “Come on, you’ve got to want to see everything.”

Nodding, Jack followed the Brother into a vestibule. “When did construction start?”

“Right after you . . .” Rhage stopped and pivoted around. “Look, I gotta clear this up. I didn’t know what happened to you. Where you ended up, that is. Jabon was a weak piece of shit, and I was just done with him after that night. You’ve got to know that I had no idea he was turning you in to the Council. If I had known, I would have told them what I knew to be fact. That you did not dishonor that young female. That you are a male of worth who would never do such a thing.”

Jack bowed. “I appreciate you saying this. But I took for granted all that was true. Jabon was the bad one in it all. I don’t even blame that daughter and the mahmen.”

“If the aristocrat weren’t dead already, I’d kill the fucker. In fact, I’m considering digging him up just so I can murder him all over again?”

“Did he die by violent means?”

“Two females killed him about twenty-five years after the incident involving you.” Rhage leaned in. “When they found the body, they couldn’t locate his courting tackle, if you know what I mean.”

Jack winced. “Wow.”

At that moment, there was a buzzing and the sound of a lock freeing. And then the vestibule doors were opened wide by the butler who’d driven the bus to Caldwell.

“Greetings!” the doggen said. As if he had not seen Jack for twelve years and Jack was the most honored guest who had ever been invited over the threshold.

“Thank you,” Jack murmured as he stepped into—

He stopped dead just inside the door. The foyer, with its marble columns and its grand staircase, its three-story-high ceiling and its mosaic floor, was every bit as majestic as Jack had envisioned it. And the spaces on either side . . . the grand dining room with its carved archway and the billiards room over to the left.

Just as he had hoped.

Abruptly, the fact that people were all around registered—in fact, it was a very large crowd of people, including males and females along with young of all ages, and they were all standing by a huge dining table, sharing greetings and introductions with Peter, Nyx, Posie, and Grandpapa. There was such joy among them, smiles and hugs given freely, the chatter and laughter and bubbling welcome filling the huge formal room, indeed all the square footage under the slate roof, with life . . . and love.