Lover Unleashed (Black Dagger Brotherhood 9)

V shot across and nearly broke the door down as he burst into the hot, humid bathroom. And holy shit, the scene before him was so much worse than he’d thought.

The irony, however, was that what they were—oh, God, he couldn’t even put into words what was doing—saved the surgeon’s life: V was so horrified, he had to look away, and the ostrich routine kept him from tearing a hole the size of a sewer pipe in Manello’s neck.

As Vishous stumbled back out, he heard all kinds of scrambling from the bath. And then it was a case of him going asswipe-AWOL: He slammed into the bed, rebounded, knocked over a chair, bounced into a wall.

At this rate, he’d find his way out in a week. Or so.

“Vishous . . .”

As Payne came up to him, he kept his eyes on the floor, and ended up with a clear shot of his twin’s bare feet. So she’d regained feeling in her legs.

Yay.

“Please spare me an explanation,” he bit out before glaring over at Manello. The bastard was soaking wet, hair slicked to his head, scrubs sucked into his body. “And do not get used to her. You’re here only until I don’t need you anymore—and given how well she’s doing? It ain’t for much longer—”

“How dare you—it is for me to choose with whom I mate.”

He shook his head at his sister. “Then pick something other than a human half your size and a quarter your strength. Life down here is not what it’s like in the clouds, sweetheart—and the Lessening Society’s slapped a bull’s-eye on your chest just like the rest of us wear. He’s weak, he’s a security risk, and he needs to go back where he belongs—and stay there.”

Well, didn’t that make his twin furious: Her icy eyes went nuclear, her black brows slamming down. “Get. Out.”

“Ask him what he did all morning long,” V demanded. “Wait—I’ll tell you. He sewed me and the Brotherhood up because we were trying to defend our females and our race. That human? He’s a lesser waiting to happen, in my opinion—nothing less, nothing more.”

“How dare you! You know naught of him.”

V leaned in to her. “And neither do you. Which is my fucking point.”

Before shit got really out of control, he spun around to leave, only to catch sight of them all in the mirror on the wall. What a fucking tableau they were: his sister, naked and unashamed; the human, wet and grim; himself, wild eyed and ready to kill something.

Rage built up so fast and so high, it broke free before he even recognized the emotion.

Vishous took two steps over, reared back his head, and slammed his face into the glass, shattering the reflection to fuck and gone.

As his sister screamed and the surgeon shouted, he left them to their own devices and stalked off.

Out in the hall, he knew precisely where he was going.

Out in the tunnel, he was oh, so very aware of what he was about to do.

As he went, the blood dripped down his cheeks and off his chin, the red tears falling onto his chest and his abs.

He didn’t feel any pain at all.

But with any luck, he would. Very soon.

THIRTY-FIVE

By the time Payne got herself dressed and went out into the hall, her twin was gone.

The blood on the floor told her in which direction he had headed, however, and she followed the trail down the corridor and into the glass-enclosed space marked OFFICE. Inside, the little specks of red cut a path around the desk and disappeared through a door, so she went over and opened up—

Just a closet. Nothing but supplies of papers and writing instruments.

There was more to it, however. There had to be. The track of droplets terminated at a wall of shelving.

Patting around, she searched for a lever or release to shift the casing over, all the while replaying the scene of the mirror smashing. She had such fear, not for herself, but for Vishous—and what she had driven him to. Again.

She had wanted a relationship with her brother. Not like this, though.