J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8 - J. R. Ward [953]
He moved his hand into his coat for his gun . . . but shit, what was there to shoot at? Lash wasn’t taking any chances with his own vital organs and his grotesque head was so close to hers, there was no room for error.
John’s fury screamed inside of him—
In his peripheral vision, he saw a gun muzzle come up.
Blink.
A field by a barn. In the dark of night. A female who mattered held in an evil lock, a knife to her throat. A gun brought to bear—
Blink.
Back here in Caldwell, the love of his life in the hands of his enemy.
Blink.
A gun going off—
The explosion right next to John’s ear shocked him firmly back into reality, and he let out a wordless scream, lunging forward as if he could catch the bullet.
No! he screamed soundlessly. Noooo—
Except it was a perfect shot. The slug caught Lash in the temple—about two inches away from Xhex’s own head.
In slow motion, John glanced over his shoulder. Tohrment’s forty was held straight out from the guy’s body, the weapon unwavering in the cold air.
For some reason, neither the shooter nor the accuracy was a surprise even though it had been a one-in-a-million Hail Mary.
Oh, God, they’d done this before, hadn’t they. Just . . . like this.
Real time snapped back into place and John whipped his head around again. Across the way, Xhex was brilliant as Lash staggered. She ducked down into a crouch to give Tohr a bigger target and was almost totally out of the way as the second bullet got sent flying.
Impact number two popped Lash right off his precious little loafers, landing him flat on his back.
John threw off the vestiges of his vertigo and pounded down to his female, his shitkickers grabbing the ground and holding tight, his thighs shoving all his strength into his feet as he burst into action.
His only thought was of saving Xhex, and he went for the weapon he needed to do the deed with: the six-inch black dagger that was holstered to his chest. As he came up to them, he raised his arm over his head, prepared to fall upon his enemy and stab Lash back to—
The scent of Xhex’s blood changed everything, derailing the slice.
Oh, Jesus. . . . The fucking bastard had had two knives. One that had been at her throat. And another that had penetrated her in the gut.
Xhex rolled over on her back, grabbing her side with a grimace.
As Lash writhed and clasped his head and chest, Tohr arrived with Qhuinn and Blay and the other Brothers, all their guns pointed at their enemy, so John didn’t have to worry about coverage as he assessed the damage.
John leaned down to Xhex.
“I’m okay,” she gasped out. “I’m okay . . . I’m okay. . . .”
The hell she was. She could barely breathe, and the hand that she had against the wound was covered with shiny, fresh blood.
John started to sign frantically. Call for Doc Jane—
“No!” she burst out, grabbing his arm with her bloody hand. “I only care about one thing right now.”
As her eyes locked on Lash, John’s heart slammed against his rib cage.
From overhead, Z said, “Butch and V are bringing the Escalade over from the Xtreme Park—motherfucker . . . we got company.”
John glanced down the alley. Four lessers had stepped into view . . . evidence that the address on the Civic’s registration had been right, even though the timing was now very wrong.
“We’ve got ’em,” Z hissed as he and the group raced back to engage the new arrivals.
The sound of laughter refocused John. Lash was grinning widely, the unholy anatomy of his face pulled into a crazy-ass smile.
“John, boy . . . I fucked her, John. . . . I fucked her hard and she liked it.”
White rage tore through John, the bonded male in him screaming, the dagger in his hand rising up once again.
“She begged me, John. . . .” The breath that was drawn in was ragged, but satisfied. “Next time you’re with her . . . remember I fill—”
“I never wanted it!” Xhex spat. “Never!”
“Filthy female,” Lash sneered. “That’s what you were and what you’ll stay. Filthy and mine—”
Everything slowed down for John, everything from how the three of them were clustered together