Lover Avenged (Black Dagger Brotherhood 7)

He didn't want to answer the unfinished question, but he was through with lying to his nearest and dearest. "Yes. Sooner or later he would have killed her. It was him or Mahmen."

A tear trembled on Bella's lashes and fell off, landing on Nalla's cheek. "Oh...God..."

As he watched his sister's shoulders huddle in, as if she were cold and in need of shelter, he wanted to point out that she still had him to turn to. That he would still be there for her if she wanted him to be. That he remained her Rooster, her brother, her protector. But he wasn't the same to her and never would be again: Though he hadn't changed, her perception of him had been completely altered, and that meant he was a different person.

A stranger with a shockingly familiar face.

Bella swiped under both her eyes. "I feel like I don't know my own life."

"Can I come a little closer. I won't hurt you or the young."

He waited forever.

And still longer.

Bella's mouth compressed into a tight line, as if she were trying to keep soul-racking sobs in. Then she reached out to him, taking the hand that had wiped away her tears and extending it to him.

Rehv dematerialized across the room. Because running would have taken too long.

Crouching down next to her, he took that palm of hers between both his hands and brought those cold fingers to his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. I'm so sorry about you and Mahmen. I tried to apologize to her for my birth...I swear to you I did. It's just...talking about it was too hard for her and me."

Bella's luminous blue eyes rose to his, the tears in them magnifying the beauty of her stare. "But why would you apologize? None of this was your fault. You were innocent...utterly innocent. This was not your fault, Rehvenge. Not. Your. Fault."

His heart stopped as he realized...that was what he had needed to hear. All his life he had blamed himself for being born and wished he could make amends for the crime against his mother that had resulted in...him.

"It wasn't your doing, Rehvenge. And she loved you. With everything she had, Mahmen loved you."

He didn't know how it happened, but suddenly his sister was in his arms, up tightly against his chest, she and her young in the haven of strength and love he offered.

The lullaby left his lips on nothing more than breath-there were no words to the gentle tune because his throat refused to let them through. The only thing that came out of him was the rhythm of the old ancient rhyme.

It was all they needed, though-that which couldn't be heard was enough to pull the past into the present and unite brother and sister once again.

When Rehvenge could go on no longer, even with as little as he was doing, he rested his head on his sister's shoulder and hummed to keep it going...

As all the while the next generation slept soundly, surrounded by her family.

Chapter SEVENTY-THREE

John Matthew lay in the bed that Xhex had used, his head on pillows and his body on sheets that carried not just her scent but that of the cold, soulless sex they'd had when he'd come to her. In the chaos of the night, the doggen had yet to clean the room, and when the maid finally arrived to do it, he was going to turn her away.

No one was touching this place. Period.

Stretched out where he was, he was fully armed and dressed in the clothes he'd gone up to the colony to fight in. He was cut in a number of places, one of which was still bleeding, judging by the fact that his sleeve was wet, and he had a headache that was either a hangover or another battle wound. Not that it mattered.

His eyes locked on the bureau across the way.

The vicious cilices Xhex had insisted on wearing around her thighs sat on top of the dresser very much in the same way he lay on the bed-they were out of place, having nothing to do with the silver brush set they were next to.

The fact that she'd left them behind gave him hope. He was assuming that she used the pain they caused to control her symphath urges, so if she didn't have them on, that meant she had another weapon at her disposal to fight with.

And she would be fighting. Wherever she was, she would be in battle, because that was her nature.

Although, man, he wished he had fed from her. That way...maybe he could have sensed where she was. Or known for sure that she was still alive.

To keep himself from getting violent, he reviewed what he'd learned from the various field reports that had come in when everyone had gotten back to the mansion.

Zsadist and V had been with her and Ehlena in the chamber where Rehvenge had been found. The princess had shown up, and so had Lash. Xhex had shot the symphath bitch...right before the entire colony had decided to pull a worshipful routine around Rehv, their new king.

Princess had then made a Night of the Living Dead reappearance. Rehv had f**ked her up. Dust had settled...and Lash and Xhex hadn't been seen again.

That was all anyone knew.

Evidently Rehv planned on heading up to the colony at nightfall to look for her...but John knew the guy was going to come up with nothing. She wasn't with the symphaths.

Lash had snatched her. It was the only possible explanation. After all, her body hadn't been found on the way out, and there was no way in hell she would have taken off without making sure everybody else got to safety first. And the thing was, according to everyone who'd been in that chamber, Rehv had owned the will of all of those symphaths. So it wasn't like any of them could have broken free and overpowered her mentally.

Lash had her.

Lash was back from the dead and aligned with the Omega somehow, and on his way out of the colony, he had taken her with him.

John was going to kill that motherfucker. With his bare hands.

As anger rose in him until he was choking on all the pissed-off, he rolled away from what was on the bureau, unable to bear the idea that Xhex might be in pain.

At least lessers were impotent, though. If Lash was a lesser... he was impotent.

Thank God.

With a plaintive sigh, John rubbed his face in a spot that smelled particularly strong of Xhex's gorgeous, dark scent.

If he could have, he would have gone back to the day before and...he still wouldn't have walked past her door. No, he would have come in here again. But he would have been kinder to her than she had been to him that first time they'd been together.

And he also would have forgiven her when she had said she was sorry.

Lying in the dark with his regrets and his fury, he counted the hours until nightfall and made plans. He knew Qhuinn and Blay were going to go out with him-not because he asked them to, but because they weren't going to listen to him when he told them to mind their own business.

But that was it. He wasn't telling Wrath or the Brothers a thing. He didn't need them putting all kinds of safety features on this runaway carnival ride. Nope, he and his buddies were going to find Lash where he slept and slaughter him once and for all. If this got John kicked out of the house? Fine. He was on his own anyway.

Here was the thing: Xhex was his female, whether she wanted to be or not. And he was not the kind of male who was going to sit on his ass when his mate was out there in a world of hurt.

He was going to do exactly what had been done for Rehvenge.

He was going to avenge her.

He was going to bring her home safe...and make sure that the one who had taken her ended up in Hell.

Chapter SEVENTY-FOUR

When Wrath heard the knock on the study door, he stood up from behind the desk. It had taken an hour for him and Beth to empty the dainty thing out, which had been a surprise. Fucker had held a lot in its tiny drawers.

"Is it here?" he asked his shellan. "Is it them?"

"Let's hope so." Beth's footsteps sounded out as the door opened, like she was trying to get a good look. "Oh...it's beautiful."

"Try heavy as f**k," Rhage grunted. "My lord, didn't you think there was a middle ground somewhere?"

"This coming from you?" Wrath said as he and George took two steps directly to the left and one back. With his hand, he felt for the drapes and anchored himself as the fringe brushed his palm.

The sound of people milling around in heavy boots got louder and was accompanied by a shitload of cursing. And more grunting. A lot more grunting. As well as some slurs about kings and their royal prerogatives being a pain in the ass.

Then there were a pair of booms as a pair of heavy things hit the floor, the sounds kind of like what you'd hear when two safes fell off a cliff and landed.

"Can we burn the rest of this nancy shit?" Butch muttered. "Like the sofas and the-"

"Oh, everything else is staying," Wrath murmured, wondering if the path was clear to the new furniture. "I just needed an upgrade."