Lover Unbound (Black Dagger Brotherhood 5)

From out of nowhere brilliant light hit her face, and she sprang upright, throwing her arms out to shove the patient away.

Except he wasn't anywhere near her. He was in bed. Asleep.

And as for the light, it came from the hall. Red Sox had opened the bedroom door.

"Sorry to wake you guys," he said. "We have a situation."

As the patient sat up, he glanced at Jane. The moment their eyes met, she flushed and looked away.

"Who?" the patient asked.

"Phury." Red Sox nodded over to the chair. "We need a doctor. Like, ASAP."

Jane cleared her throat. "Why are you looking at - "

"We need you."

Her first thought was, the hell she was getting in deeper with them. But then the physician in her spoke up. "What's going on?"

"Real uglysitch. Run-in with a baseball bat. Can you come with me?"

Her patient's voice got there first, the dead-on growl drawing one hell of a line in the sane: "If she goes anywhere, I'm coming, too. And how bad is it?"

"He got clocked in the face. Bad. Refuses to go to Havers. Said Bella's there about the young, and he doesn't want to upset her by showing up messy."

"Goddamn brother just has to be a hero." V looked at Jane. "Will you help us?"

After a moment, she rubbed her face. Goddamn it. "Yeah. I will."

As John lowered the muzzle of the Glock he'd been given, he stared down the range at a target fifty feet away. Slipping the safety back into place, he was utterly speechless.

"Jesus," Blay said.

In total disbelief, John hit a yellow button to his left and the eight-and-a-half-by-eleven sheet of paper whizzed up to him like a dog being called home. In the center, clustered like a daisy, were six perfect shots. Holy shit. After having sucked at everything he'd been taught so far when it came to fighting, he finally excelled at something.

Well, didn't this make him forget about his headache.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and Wrath's voice was proud. "You did good, son. Real good."

John reached out and undipped the target.

"All right," Wrath said. "That's it for today. Check your weapons, boys."

"Yo, Qhuinn," Blay called out. "You see this?"

Qhuinn gave his gun to one of the doggen and came over. "Whoa. That's some real Dirty Harry shit right there."

John folded up the paper and put it in the back of his jeans. As he returned the weapon to the cart, he tried to figure out how to identify it again so he could use it at the next practice. Ah... although the serial numbers had been filed off, there was a faint mark on the barrel, a scratch. He could totally find his gun again.

"Move out," Wrath said as he propped his huge body against the door. "Bus is waiting."

When John looked up from returning the gun, Lash was standing right behind him, all menace and loom. In a smooth move the guy leaned in and put his Glock down with the muzzle aimed at John's chest. To make the point, he lingered with his forefinger on the trigger for a moment.

Blay and Qhuinn fell in tight, blocking the way. The move in was all done real casual, like they were just randomly hanging around, but the message was clear. With a shrug, Lash lifted his hand free of the Glock and clipped Blay shoulder to shoulder as he headed for the door.

"Asshole," Qhuinn muttered.

The three buds left for the locker room, where they picked up their books and headed out together. Because John was going to use the tunnel to head back to the mansion, they stopped at the door to Tohr's old office.

As the other trainees walked by, Qhuinn kept his voice low. "We have to go out tonight. I can't wait." He grimaced and shifted his stance like there was sandpaper in his pants. "I'm half-batshit for a female, if you know what I mean?"

Blay flushed a little. "I'm... ah, yeah, I could deal with some action. John?"

Pumped from his success on the range, John nodded.

"Good." Blay jacked up his jeans. "We got to hit ZeroSum."

Qhuinn frowned. "How about Screamer's?"

"No, I want ZeroSum."

"Fine. And we can go in my car." Qhuinn glanced over. "John, why don't you get on the bus and go to Blay's?"

Shouldn't I change?

"You can borrow some of his clothes. You have to look good for ZeroSum."

Lash came out of nowhere, like a sucker punch. "So you're going downtown, John? Maybe I'll see you there, buddy."

With a nasty-ass grin, he sauntered off, his body to be coiled, his muscular shoulders rolling like he was headed into a fight. Or wanted to be.

"Sounds like you want a date, Lash," Qhuinn barked. "Good deal, 'cause you keep that shit up, you're going to get f**ked, buddy."

Lash stopped and glanced back, the lights from overhead pouring down over him. "Hey, Qhuinn, tell your father I said hi. He always did like me better than you. Then again, I match."

Lash tapped beside his eye with his middle finger and kept going.

In his wake, Qhuinn's face closed up, just went straight to statue.

Blay put his hand on the back of the guy's neck. "Listen, give us forty-five minutes at my house, k? Then you come pick us up."

Qhuinn didn't respond right away, and when he finally did his voice was low. "Yeah. No problem. Will you excuse me for a sec?"

Qhuinn dropped his books and walked back to the locker room. As the door eased shut, John signed, Lash's and Qhuinn's families are tight?

"The two of them are first cousins. Their fathers are brothers."

John frowned. What's up with Lash pointing to his eye?

"Don't worry about - "

John gripped the guy's forearm. Tell me.

Blay rubbed his red hair like he was trying to rustle up a response. "Okay... it's like... Qhuinn's dad is a big deal in the glymera, right? And so's his mom. And the glymera doesn't do defects."

This was said as if it explained everything. I don't get it. What's wrong with his eye?

"One's blue. One's green. Because they aren't the same color, Qhuinn's never going to get mated... and, you know, his father's been embarrassed by him all his life. Not a good sitch, and that's why we're always at my house. He needs to get away from his parents." Blay looked at the locker room door as if he could see through it to his friend. "The only reason they haven't kicked him out is because they were hoping the transition might clear it up. That's why he got to use someone like Marna. She has very good blood, and I think the plan was that it would help."

It didn't.

"Nope. They're probably going to ask him to leave at some point. I've already got a room ready for him, but I doubt he'd use it. Lot of pride. Rightfully so."

John had a horrible thought. How did he get the bruise? The one on his face after his transition?

At that moment the locker room door opened and Qhuinn came out with a solid smile in place. "Shall we, gentlemen?" As he picked up his books, his bravado was back. "Let's bounce before the good ones are taken at the club."

Blay clapped the guy on the shoulder. "Lead on, maestro."

As they headed for the underground parking lot, Qhuinn was in front, Blay behind, John in the middle.

As Qhuinn disappeared up the bus's steps, John tapped Blay on the shoulder.

It was his father, wasn't it?

Blay hesitated. Then nodded once.

Chapter Eighteen

Okay, this was either cool as hell or scary as f**k. As Jane walked along, it was like she was going through an underground tunnel in a Jerry Bruckheimer movie. This setup was straight out of high-budget Hollywood: steel, dimly lit from inset fluorescent lights, infinitely long. At any minute Bruce Willis circa 1980 was going to come running by on his bare feet wearing a ratty muscle shirt and a machine gun.

She glanced up at the fluorescent panels in the ceiling, then down to the polished metal floor. She was willing to bet that if she took a drill to the walls they'd be half a foot thick. Man, these guys had money. Big money. More than you could get if you were dealing prescription drugs on the black market or servicing coke, crack, and crank addictions. This was government-scale money, suggesting vampires weren't just another species; they were another civilization.

As the three of them went along, she was surprised they'd left her unrestrained. Then again, the patient and his buddy were armed with guns -

"No." The patient shook his head at her. "You're not in cuffs because you won't run."