J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [398]
“Why do you care?”
“Just want to make sure your needs are served. Customer satisfaction is so damned important.” The male moved even closer and nodded at Phury’s arm, the one that disappeared into his coat. “Your hand’s on a gun butt right now, isn’t it? Afraid of me?”
“Just want to make sure I can take care of you.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. In case you need a little Glock-to-mouth resuscitation.”
The Reverend grinned, his fangs flashing. “You know, I’ve heard this rumor…about a member of the Brotherhood who’s celibate. Yeah, go figure, a warrior who abstains. And I’ve heard a few other things about this male. He’s down to one leg. Has a scarred sociopath for a twin. You wouldn’t by any chance know of such a Brother?”
Phury shook his head. “Nope.”
“Huh. Funny, I’ve seen you hanging around with a guy who looks like he’s wearing a Halloween mask. Actually, I’ve seen you with a couple of big males who kind of fit some descriptions I’ve heard. You don’t suppose—”
“Do me a favor and get me my leaves. I’ll be outside waiting.” Phury turned away. He was in a bad mood to begin with: frustrated that he hadn’t found a fight, bleeding inside over being shut down by Bella. Now was not the time for conflict. He was on his last fucking nerve.
“Are you celibate because you like males?”
Phury glared over his shoulder. “What is with you tonight? You’re always shifty, but right now you’re also being a real asshole.”
“You know, maybe you just need to get laid. I don’t traffic in the males, but I’m sure we could find you one who’d be obliging.”
For the second time in twenty-four hours, Phury snapped. He surged across the office, took the Reverend by his Gucci lapels, and nailed him into the wall.
Phury leaned on the guy’s chest. “Why are you picking a fight with me?”
“You going to kiss me before the sex?” the Reverend murmured, still playing. “I mean, it’s the least you can do, considering we only know each other professionally. Or aren’t you into foreplay?”
“Fuck you.”
“Now there’s an original comeback. I would have expected something a little more interesting from you.”
“Fine. How’s this?”
Phury laid a hard one on the male’s mouth, the kiss a punch between faces, not anything even remotely sexual. And he did it only to wipe the expression off the bastard’s face. It worked. The Reverend stiffened and growled, and Phury knew he’d called the guy’s bluff. But just to make sure the lesson was learned, he clipped the male’s lower lip with a fang.
The instant blood hit his tongue, Phury yanked back, his mouth falling open. Through his shock, he breathed, “Well, what do you know, sin-eater.”
At the sound of the word the Reverend cut all the bullshit, getting good and dead serious. In the silence he seemed to be considering his plausible denials.
Phury shook his head. “Don’t even try. I can taste it.”
Amethyst eyes narrowed. “The politically correct term is symphath.”
Phury’s hands tightened on the male out of reflex. Holy shit. A symphath. Here in Caldwell and living among the species. Trying to pass itself off as just another civilian.
Man, this was crucial information. The last thing Wrath needed was another civil war in the race.
“I should point something out,” the Reverend said softly. “You turn me in and you’re going to lose your supplier. Think about it. Where’re you going to get what you need if I’m out of the picture?”
Phury stared into those purple eyes, still running through the implications. He was going to tell the Brothers as soon as he got home, and he was going to watch the Reverend closely. As for turning the guy in…The discrimination symphaths had faced throughout history had always struck him as unfair—provided they didn’t start pulling shit out of their trick bags. And the Reverend had been running the club for at least five years with no problems linked to symphath behavior.
“We’re going to strike a little deal,” Phury said, glaring hard into that