Lover Avenged (Black Dagger Brotherhood 7)
V replaced the documents, tucked the envelope into his waistband at the small of his back, and stared at Gatsby. "We supposed to think you didn't read this?"
"I didn't. My boss didn't. No one has since the chain of custody fell to him and me."
"Chain of custody? You a lawyer and not just a paralegal?"
"I'm apprenticing to be an attorney in the Old Law."
V leaned in and bared his fangs. "You are certain you did not read this, true?"
Saxton stared back at the Brother as if he were momentarily fascinated by the tattoos on V's temple. After a moment, he shook his head and spoke in that low voice. "I'm not interested in joining a list of people who've been found dead and eyeless on their carpets. Neither is my boss. The seal on that was made by Montrag's hand. Whatever he put in there hasn't been read since he let that hot wax drip."
"How you know it was Montrag who stuffed this?"
"It's his handwriting on the front. I know because I've seen a lot of his notes on documents. Plus it was brought to us by his personal doggen at his request."
As Saxton talked, Wrath read the male's emotions carefully, breathing through his nose. No deceit. Conscience was clean. Flyboy was attracted to V, but other than that? There was nothing. Not even fear. He was cautious, but calm.
"If you're lying," V said softly, "we will find out and find you."
"I don't doubt that for a second."
"What do you know, the lawyer has a brain." Vishous stepped back in line, palm returning to the butt of his gun.
Wrath wanted to know what was in the envelope, but he gathered that whatever was in there wasn't suitable for mixed company. "So where are your boss and his buddies, Saxton."
"None of them are coming." Saxton looked at the empty chairs. "They're all terrified. After what happened to Montrag, they are locked in their houses and staying there."
Good, Wrath thought. With the glymera displaying their talent for being cowards, he had one less thing to worry about.
"Thanks for coming, son."
Saxton took the dismissal for exactly what it was, reclipping his briefcase, bowing once again, and turning to go.
"Son?"
Saxton stopped and pivoted all the way around. "My lord?"
"You had to talk your boss into this, didn't you." Discreet silence was the response. "Then you give good advice, and I believe you-as far as you know, neither you nor your employer peeked in there and saw whatever it is. Word to the wise, though. I would find a new job. Things are going to get worse before they're better, and desperation makes shits out of even the most honorable of people. They've already sent you into the lion's mouth once. They will do it again."
Saxton smiled. "You ever need a personal lawyer, let me know. After all the trusts and estates and bloodline training I've had since this summer, I'm looking to branch out."
Another bow and the guy left with iAm, his head high and his stride even.
"What have you got there, V?" Wrath asked quietly.
"Nothing good, my lord. Nothing good."
As Wrath's vision dulled to its normal, unfocused uselessness, the last thing he saw with any clarity was V's icy eyes shifting over and locking on Rehvenge.
Chapter FORTY-NINE
As the unmarked police car left Pine Grove Cemetery, Lash became utterly focused on the symphath presence that had just revealed itself inside the gates.
"Get the f**k out of here," he told his men.
As he dematerialized, he went back toward the dead girl's grave in the rear corner of the-
The scream was out-of-control operatic, a soprano losing the grip on her voice, the pitch flying high above singing and into screeching. When Lash resumed his form, he was bitched that he'd just missed the fun and games...because it would have been worth seeing.
Grady was lying flat on his back with his pants wrenched down, bleeding from various places, most especially a fresh cut right across his esophagus. He was alive like a fly on the sill of a hot window, kinked arms and legs pinwheeling slowly.
Straightening up from a crouch was his killer: that butch bitch from ZeroSum. And unlike the dying fly, who was clueless to all but his own demise, she knew exactly when Lash came on the scene. She whipped around in a fighting stance, her face focused, the dripping knife in her hand steady, her thighs tight and ready to spring her hard body forward.
She was hot as f**k. Especially as she frowned in recognition.
"I thought you were dead," she said. "And I thought you were a vampire."
He smiled. "Surprise. And you've been keeping a secret of your own, haven't you."
"No, I never liked you, and that hasn't changed."
Lash shook his head and blatantly eyed her body. "You look really good in leather, you know that."
"You'd look better in a body cast."
He laughed. "Cheap shot."
"So's my target. Do the math."
Lash smiled and, with some vivid images, fanned his attraction into a full-blown hard-on because he knew she would sense it: He pictured her down on her knees in front of him, his c**k in her mouth, his hands clamped on her head as he f**ked her mouth until she gagged.
Xhex rolled her eyes. "Cheap. Porn."
"Nope. Future. Sex."
"Sorry, I'm not into Justin Timberlake. Or Ron Jeremy."
"We'll see about that." Lash nodded down at the human, whose writhing had slowed as if he were congealing in the cold. "So I'm afraid you owe me something."
"If it's a stab wound, I'm totally there."
"That"-he pointed to Grady-"was mine."
"You should upgrade your standards. That"-she echoed his stance-"is dog shit."
"Shit's good fertilizer."
"Then lemme lay you out under a rosebush and we'll see how you do."
Grady let out a moan and they both glanced at him. The bastard was in the final stages of death, his face the color of the frosted ground around his head, the blood flow from his wounds slowing.
Abruptly, Lash realized what had been shoved in his mouth and looked at Xhex. "Man...I could seriously go for a female like you, sin-eater."
Xhex drew her blade across the sharp edge of the headstone, Grady's blood getting transferred from the metal to the stone as if she were marking a payback. "You got balls, lesser, considering what I did to him. Or don't you want to keep your set?"
"I'm different."
"Smaller than him? Christ, how disappointing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm out of here." She lifted up her knife and waved, then disappeared.
Lash stared into the air where she had been, until Grady gurgled weakly like a drain on its last grab against a puddle of bathwater.
"Did you see her?" Lash said to the idiot. "What a female. I'm so getting some of that."
Grady's last breath came out the hole in his throat, because it had no other exit, given that his mouth was busy giving himself a blow job.
Lash put his hands on his hips and looked at the cooling body.
Xhex...he was going to have to make sure they crossed paths again. And he hoped she tried to tell the Brothers she'd seen him: An unsettled enemy was better than a collected one. He knew the Brotherhood would all wonder how in the hell the Omega had been able to turn a vampire into a lesser, but that was only a small part of the story.
He'd still get to serve up the punch line.
As Lash sauntered away into the cold night, he rearranged himself in his pants and decided he needed to go get laid. God knew he was in the mood.
While iAm was locking up Sal's front door, Rehvenge sheathed his red sword and looked at Vishous. The Brother was staring at him in a bad way.
"So what was in there?" Rehv said.
"You."
"Montrag try to say I was responsible for the plot to kill Wrath?" Not that it mattered if the guy had. Rehv had already proven which side he was on by having the motherfucker sliced.
Vishous shook his head slowly, then glanced over as iAm joined his brother.
Rehv spoke up sharply. "There is nothing they do not know about me."
"Well, then, here you go, sin-eater." V tossed the envelope onto the table. "Apparently, Montrag knew what you were. Which is undoubtedly why he went to you to try to kill Wrath. No one would believe it wasn't your idea and your idea alone, if what you are is revealed."
Rehv frowned and took out what looked to be an affidavit about how his stepfather had been killed. What. The. Fuck. Montrag's father had been in the house after the murder; that much Rehv knew. But the guy had gotten his mother's hellren not only to talk, but to testify? And then promptly done nothing with the intel?