J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [465]
“Phury?” he said softly. “Phury…what’s happened to me?”
As the male came up behind him, the brother’s face appeared right beside Z’s. And then Wrath’s dark reflection showed up in the mirror, all long hair and sunglasses. Then Rhage’s star-fallen beauty. And Vishous’s Sox cap. And Tohrment’s brush cut. And Butch’s busted nose.
One by one they reached out and touched him, their big hands landing gently on his shoulders.
“Welcome back, my brother,” Phury whispered.
Zsadist stared at the males who were behind him. And had the oddest thought that if he were to let himself go limp and fall backward…they would catch him.
Shortly after Zsadist left, Bella walked out of his bedroom and went in search of him. She’d been about to call her brother and arrange for a meeting when she realized she had to take care of her lover before she got wrapped up in her family drama again.
Finally Zsadist needed something from her. And badly, too. He’d been nearly drained after his time with her, and she knew exactly how starved he was, knew just how desperate he was to feed. With so much of his blood in her veins, she could sense his hunger vividly, and she also knew, too, precisely where he was in the house. All she had to do was reach out her senses and she could feel him, find him.
Bella followed his pulse down the corridor of statues, around the corner, and toward the open double doors at the head of the stairs. Angry male voices boiled out of the study, and Zsadist’s was one of them.
“The hell you’re going out tonight,” someone shouted.
Zsadist’s tone was downright evil. “Don’t try to order me around, Tohr. It just pisses me off and wastes your time.”
“Look at yourself—you’re a fucking skeleton! Unless you feed, you’re staying in.”
Bella came into the room just as Zsadist said, “Try to keep me here and see where it lands you, brother.”
With all of the Brotherhood looking on, the two males were nose-to-nose, eyes locked, fangs bared.
Jesus, she thought. Such aggression.
But…Tohrment was right. She hadn’t been able to see in the darkness of the bedroom, but here in the light Zsadist looked half-dead. The bones of his skull were pushing through his skin; his T-shirt was hanging from his body; his pants were sagging. His black eyes were intense as always, but the rest of him was in rough shape.
Tohrment shook his head. “Be reasonable—”
“I would see Bella ahvenged. That is totally reasonable.”
“No, it isn’t,” she said. Her interjection brought all the heads her way.
As Zsadist looked at her, his irises changed color, flashing from the angry black she was used to into a glowing, incandescent yellow.
“Your eyes,” she whispered. “What’s happened to your—”
Wrath cut in. “Bella, your brother has asked that you stay here a little longer.”
Her surprise was so great, she looked away from Zsadist. “What, my lord?”
“He doesn’t want me to rule on your sehclusion right now, and he wants you to remain here.”
“Why?”
“No idea. Maybe you could ask him.”
God, as if things aren’t confusing enough. She glanced back at Zsadist, but he was focused on a window across the room.
“You are, of course, welcome to stay,” Wrath said.
As Zsadist stiffened, she wondered how true that was.
“I don’t want to be ahvenged,” she said loudly. When Zsadist’s head whipped around, she spoke directly to him. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. But I don’t want anyone hurt trying to get at the lesser who kept me. Especially not you.”
His brows cranked down on his eyes. “That is not your call.”
“The hell it’s not.” As she pictured him going to fight, terror overrode everything. “God, Zsadist…I don’t want to be responsible for your going out and getting yourself killed.”
“That lesser’s going to end up pine-boxing it, not me.”
“You can’t be serious! Dear Virgin, look at you. You can’t possibly fight. You’re so weak.”
There was a collective hiss in the room, and Zsadist’s eyes