Lover Unleashed - J. R. Ward [209]
Manuel bared his teeth as if he had fangs . . . and did not that just turn her on.
“Alone, I slept alone. He kept all of his subordinates upstairs with him.” More soothing of Manuel—at least until she realized he was fully aroused, as a male driven to mark his female would be. And how erotic was that. “Ah . . . he blindfolded me and had me driven out to a scenic ledge with a view of the city. And then he let me go. That was all.”
Wrath spoke up. “He abducted you against your will.”
“He believed he had cause. He thought I had killed his father. And as soon as he was set correct on that, he was prepared to release me, but it was daylight, so I could go nowhere. I would have called but my phone was lost and it did not appear that they had any to hand as I did not see such. In fact, they were living in the old way, communally and modestly, in an underground room that was alit with candles.”
“Any idea where they stay?” her twin asked.
“I haven’t a clue. I was unconscious when they—” As a loud shout of alarm rose up from so many throats, she shook her head. “I was shot by a lesser—”
“What the fuck—”
“You were what?!”
“A gun—”
“Shot with a—”
“—injured?!”
Hmm. Mayhap that was not of help.
As the Brothers all talked over each other, Manuel scooped her up and held her aloft, his face a mask of bald fury. “That’s it. We’re done here. I’m going to do an exam on you.” He looked over at her brother. “Where can I take her.”
“Upstairs. Hang a right. Three doors down there’s a guest room. I’ll have food sent up, and let me know if you need medical supplies.”
“Roger that.”
And with that, her male hit the stairs with her in his arms.
Good thing she was essentially finished with her story: Given the angle of Manuel’s chin, she was not going to do any more talking about her ordeal for some time.
Unless she wanted him in an utter rage.
Indeed, as he was now, it would appear that that soldier had something to worry about if the two of them ever crossed pathways.
“I am so glad to see you,” she said roughly. “You were all I thought of when I was . . .”
He closed his eyes briefly, as if he were in pain. “They didn’t hurt you?”
“No.” And that was when she realized what he was worried about.
Placing her palm on his face, she said, “He didn’t touch me. None of them did.”
The shudder that went through the strong body that carried her was so great, he nearly tripped. But her male recovered fast . . . and kept going.
As Vishous watched the human take his sister up the grand staircase, he realized he was witnessing a future unfold right before his very eyes. The pair of them were going to work it out, and that surgeon with the highly questionable musical taste was going to be a part of her life . . . and V’s . . . forevermore.
Abruptly, his mind shifted back twelve months, the rewind button stopping when he got to the place in the narrative when he’d gone to the surgeon’s office to scrub the guy’s memories of V’s own time at St. Francis.
Brother.
He had heard the word brother in his head.
At the time, he hadn’t had a fucking clue what it meant—because, come on, like that would ever happen?
And yet here it was, reality once again living up to one of his visions.
Although, for true accuracy, that word should probably have been brother-in-law.
Except then he glanced over at Butch. His best friend was likewise staring upward at the guy.
Shit, he guessed brother might just fit. Which was good. Manello was the kind of guy you wouldn’t mind being related to.
As if the king read his mind, Wrath announced, “The surgeon can stay. Long as he wants. And he can have contact with any human family he has—if he wants. As a relation of mine, he is welcome in my home without restriction.”
There was a grumble of agreement at that: As always, when it came to the Brotherhood, secrets never stayed secrets for very long, so everyone already knew about the Manello/Butch/Wrath