J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8 - J. R. Ward [186]
Funny, if he looked beyond the swarm of nothing special, he had the sense that all the activity was…hiding something.
For no particular reason he had an image of the mauve crocheted throw blanket that hung on the back of his mother’s mauve couch in his mother’s mauve living room. The damn thing was never used for warmth, and God help you if you tried to pull it off. The blanket’s sole purpose was to hide a stain from when his father had spilled a plate of Franco-American spaghetti all over the place. After all, there was only so far you could go with a spray bottle of Resolve, and that canned shit had red dye in it. Which was so not a look on a mauve canvas.
Just like that blanket, his scattered thoughts were obstructing some kind of stain in his brain, although damned if he knew what it was.
He rubbed his eyes and glanced at his Breitling. Past two A.M.
Time to go home.
As he packed up, he had the sense that he’d spaced on something important, and he kept looking at the left-hand corner of his desk. There was a paperless stretch there, the grained wood showing through in what was otherwise a snowbank of work.
The empty space was the size of a file folder.
Something had been taken from there. He knew it. He just couldn’t figure out what, and the harder he tried to remember, the more his head pounded.
He walked over to the door.
On the way past his private bathroom, he popped in, found his trusty bottle of five-hundred-count Motrin and took two.
He really needed a vacation.
Chapter Forty-four
Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, Phury thought as he stood in the doorway of the bedroom next to his at the Brotherhood’s mansion. At least the household was otherwise occupied, so he hadn’t had to deal with anyone yet. But man, things were looking rocky.
Crap.
Across the way, Cormia sat on the edge of the bed, that drape clutched at her breasts, her eyes like two marbles in a big glass jar. She was so rattled, he wanted to take her back to the Other Side, but what waited for her there was no better. He didn’t want her to face the Directrix’s firing squad.
Wasn’t going to stand for that shit.
“If there’s anything you need, I’m just next door.” He leaned out and pointed to the left. “I figure you can stay here for a day or so and get some rest. Have a little time to yourself. Sound good?”
She nodded, her blond hair falling over her shoulder.
For no particular reason he noticed it was a nice color, especially in the dim light of the bedside lamp. It reminded him of polished pine, a rich, shiny yellow.
“Would you like anything to eat?” he asked. When she shook her head, he went over to the phone and put his hand on it. “If you do get hungry, just dial star-four and it’ll get you the kitchen. Anything you want, they’ll bring to you.”
Her eyes glanced over, then returned to him.
“You’re safe here, Cormia. Nothing bad can happen to you—”
“Phury? You’re back?” From the doorway, Bella’s voice was a combination of surprise and relief.
His heart stopped. Busted. And by the person he most dreaded explaining this whole thing to. She was worse than Wrath, for God’s sake.
He gathered himself before he could look at her. “Yeah, I’m back for a little while.”
“I thought you were—Oh, hello.” Bella’s eyes whipped up to his before she smiled at Cormia. “Ah, my name’s Bella. And you are…?”
When there was no reply, Phury said, “This is Cormia. She’s the Chosen who I…mated. Cormia, this is Bella.”
Cormia stood and bowed down low, her hair nearly brushing the floor. “Your grace.”
Bella’s hand went to her lower belly. “Cormia, it’s so nice to meet you. And please, we’re not formal in this house.