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J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [8]

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Darius shifted impatiently.

“That’s all,” he muttered. “We’re good.”

As she backed up, getting lost in the crowd, Wrath heard Darius clear his throat. “Thanks for coming.”

“You already said that.”

“Yeah. Right. Ah, you and I go way back.”

“We do.”

“We’ve fought some damn good fights together. Cut down a lot of lessers.”

Wrath nodded. The Black Dagger Brotherhood had been protecting the race against the Lessening Society for generations. There was Darius. Tohrment. The four others. The brothers were vastly outnumbered by lessers, de-souled humans who served a nasty-ass master, the Omega. But Wrath and his warriors managed to hold their own.

And then some.

Darius cleared his throat. “After all these years—”

“D, you’ve got to cut to the point. Marissa needs to do a little business tonight.”

“Do you want to use your room at my place again? You know I don’t let anyone else stay there.” Darius let out an awkward laugh. “No doubt her brother would prefer you not show up at his house.”

Wrath crossed his arms over his chest, pushing the table out with his boot to give himself a little more room.

He didn’t give a crap that Marissa’s brother had delicate sensibilities and was offended by the life Wrath lived. Havers was a snob and a dilettante who had his head up his ass. He was totally incapable of understanding the kind of enemies the race had and what it took to defend the population.

And just because the dear boy was offended, Wrath wasn’t going to play dandy while civilians were getting slaughtered. He needed to be in the field with his warriors, not taking up space on some throne. So Havers could shove it.

Although Marissa shouldn’t have to deal with her brother’s attitude.

“I just might take you up on that offer.”

“Good.”

“Now talk.”

“I have a daughter.”

Wrath slowly turned his head. “Since when?”

“A while.”

“Who’s the mother?”

“You don’t know her. And she…ah, she died.”

Darius’s sorrow rose up around him, the acrid smell of old pain cutting through the stench of human sweat, alcohol, and sex in the club.

“How old is she?” Wrath demanded. He had a feeling where this might be headed.

“Twenty-five.”

Wrath cursed under his breath. “Don’t ask me, Darius. Don’t ask me to do it.”

“I have to. My lord, your blood is—”

“Call me that again and I’ll close your mouth for you. Permanently.”

“You don’t understand. She’s—”

Wrath started to get up. Darius’s hand grasped his forearm and then was quickly removed.

“She’s half-human.”

“Jesus Christ—”

“So she might not survive the transition if she goes through it. Look, if you help her, at least she has a chance of living. Your blood is so strong, it would increase the likelihood of her making it through the change as a half-breed. I’m not asking you to take her on as a shellan. Or to protect her, because I can do that. I’m just trying to…Please. My other sons are dead. She’s all that could be left of me. And I…Her mother is one I loved.”

If it had been anyone else, Wrath would have used his favorite pair of words: fuck and off. As far as he was concerned, there were only two good positions for a human. A female on her back. And a male facedown and not breathing.

But Darius was almost a friend. Or would have been one, if Wrath had let him get close.

As Wrath stood up, he closed his eyes. Hatred washed through him, directed into the center of his own chest. He despised himself for walking away, but he just wasn’t the kind of male who could help some poor half-breed through such a painful and dangerous time. Gentleness and mercy were not in his makeup.

“I can’t do it. Not even for you.”

Darius’s agony hit him in a great swell, and Wrath actually swayed under the emotion’s force. He squeezed the vampire’s shoulder.

“If you really love her, do her a favor. Ask someone else.”

Wrath turned and stalked out of the bar. On his way to the door he wiped the memory of himself from every human cerebral cortex in the place. The strong ones would think they had dreamed him. The weak ones wouldn’t remember him at all.

Out on the street, he headed for a dark corner behind

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