Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood 20)

“Where is she,” Balz said in a low growl.

“Where is who?”

“Hey, Bastard,” came V’s voice out of the speaker. “What’s doing?”

Keeping his eyes on his enemy, Balz lifted the phone closer to his mouth. “I have the demon right in front of me. I need you here right now.”

“You bought Marlboros?” Vishous cursed. “I can’t believe you’re slumming like that—”

“What?”

“—after my shit. Listen, I’ll bring you some more. I’m going into a meeting with Wrath and the brothers. Soon as I’m out, I’ll hook you, true?”

Balz raised his voice. “I need you! You know where I am downtown! I have her in front of me—”

“Sure, I can do food—”

“I don’t need food!”

“Meeting’s starting. See you soon.”

As the connection was cut, the demon smiled. “He seems like a real prince of a guy. And it’s Uber Eats just with fangs, right? How chef’s kiss perfect.”

Ignoring her lip-press/finger-flare, Balz stepped over the body of the shopkeeper. “Where is she.”

“The only female you need to be looking for is me.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the plan.”

With a perfectly steady hand, Balz palmed his remaining dagger. “I’m never fucking you again.”

He put the blade right to his own throat, and pressed the sharp edge in over his jugular. Following a bloom of pain, he smelled more of his own blood and became aware that his shoulder was killing him.

“Never again,” he repeated.

The demon narrowed her gleaming black eyes. “You’re not going to do it. All it gets you is Hell for eternity and me left alone with your little friend. Not that I won’t enjoy my time with your girl.”

“She has a protector stronger than me.”

“Does she.” Devina waved her fingers beside her face and went ooooooooooo. “I’m so scared.”

“You should be. Lassiter will take care of her—”

“You think he’ll waste time on a human? Fine, so where is he right now?” Her tone was bored. “Will you just stop. You’re not going to kill yourself. Don’t you know you shouldn’t bluff with something like me—”

“I’m not bluffing. She’s an innocent, and if you hurt her because of me, she becomes one of his own.” Devina’s stare narrowed and he nodded. “I kill myself and she’s free for two reasons. No more ties to me and no way you’re going to get at her.”

“I thought you said she didn’t mean anything to you.” Devina cocked an eyebrow. “Or did you think I couldn’t hear you then?”

“Have fun with that fallen angel.”

As he tightened his grip on the hilt, Devina said quickly, “You’ll end up in Hell. No Fade if you do it.”

“I don’t care if I’m in Dhunhd forever if it saves her.”

With that, he pulled the blade over his throat, slicing his vein right open. The river of blood was immediate, and the gurgling as he tried to breathe through the flood made it hard to talk.

Nearly impossible.

And still, he managed, “Never… again.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sitting across from Butch—on a silk sofa that belonged in a museum with a “Do Not Sit” sign on it—Vishous was trying to concentrate on what was being said in the great Blind King’s study. The Brotherhood, the Bastards, and all the fighters were crammed into the frilly room, looking like a military squadron that had been rerouted into Versailles.

The French furniture and the pale blue walls went with all the gunmetal and the leather like a lace hankie wrapped around a grenade.

But like he gave a crap about decorations.

“—destroyed,” Sahvage was saying. “And the Book, too. Why are we still talking about this?”

V checked his phone, then put it facedown on his thigh. “Because our boy Balthazar is feeling that demon—and he’s seeing her.”

“In his dreams,” Sahvage countered through the SRO of warriors. “And I’m not disrespecting the Bastard. It’s just I was there in that fire. I saw what I saw. Both were ashed.”

Sahvage was a big boy, even when he was standing next to a brother like Murhder. With his dark hair cut short and the five o’clock shadow, he was exactly what he looked like: A highly intelligent, very aggressive killer, who was willing to lay down his life for his mate, his King, and everybody else in the room.

Speaking of kings, the leader of the species was parked on the far side of a carved desk that was the PB to the J for the enormous carved-ass palace he was sitting on. Both had been his sire’s, just like his name, just like his son’s name. That long black hair falling from a widow’s peak was also inherited, but his short temper and his potty mouth? That was a no. By accounts, his father had been a gentlemale. Wrath, on the other hand, was… aptly named.

Then again, as far as V was concerned, they didn’t need a king with manners. They needed one with balls.

“I believe him,” V announced to the crowd. “And we have to take him seriously. You think he’s avoiding his home here on a goddamn whim?”