The Black Dagger Brotherhood_ An Insider's Guide - J. R. Ward [145]
“Until it broke.”
p. 143
“When the females tie you down, do they paint your toenails and shit? Or just do your makeup?” As V laughed in a loud crack, the cop said, “Wait . . . they tickle your pits with a feather, right?”
p. 150
Before Butch knew what was doing, V grabbed his forearm, bent down, and licked the cut, sealing it up quick.
Butch yanked out of his roommate’s hold. “Jesus, V! What if that blood’s contaminated!”
“It’s fine. Just f—” With a boneless lurch, Vishous gasped and collapsed against the wall, eyes rolling back in his head, body twitching.
“Oh, God . . . !” Butch reached out in horror—
Only to have V cut the seizure off and calmly take a drink from his glass. “You’re fine, cop. Tastes perfectly okay. Well, fine for a human guy, which really ain’t my tail of choice, you feel me?”
Butch hauled back and nailed his roommate in the arm with his fist. And as the brother cursed, Butch popped him another one.
V glared and rubbed himself. “Christ, cop.”
“Suck it up, you deserve it.”
p. 193
“Shit . . . you’re right. I apologize.”
“Can we screw the ‘sorry’ part and let me hit you back instead?”
p. 194
“V, you know I love you like a brother, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You feed her and I’ll tear your fucking throat out.”
p. 218
“That’s what I like to hear. ” The Reverend slid into the booth, his amethyst eyes scanning the VIP section. He looked good, his suit black, his silk shirt black, his mohawk a dark cropped stripe that ran front to back on his skull. “So I want to share a little news.”
“You getting married?” Butch tossed back half the new Lag. “Where you registered? Crate and Bury ’Em?”
“Try Heckler and Koch.” The Reverend opened his jacket and flashed the butt of a forty.
“Nice little poodle shooter you got there, vampire.”
“Put a hell of a—”
V cut in. “You two are like watching tennis, and racquet sports bore me. What’s the news?”
Rehv looked at Butch. “He has such phenomenal people skills, doesn’t he.”
“Try living with him.”
pp. 219-220
“You’re such a pain in the ass.”
“Said the SIG to the Glock.”
p. 281
Except when his roommate’s palm landed on his bare chest all he felt was a warm weight. Butch frowned. This was it? This was fucking it? Scaring the shit out of Marissa for no good—
He looked down, pissed off.
Oh, wrong hand.
p. 316
“Marissa,” he mumbled, taking her hand. “Don’t want to see you drink so much.” Wait, not really what he’d been going for. “Ah . . . don’t you to see me drink so much . . . want.”
Whatever. God . . . he was so confused.
p. 320
Wrath smiled broadly, his fangs so very white. “What’s doing . . . cousin.”
Butch frowned. “What . . .?”
“You’ve got some of me in you, cop.” Wrath’s smile stuck around as he slid his glasses back in. “Course, I always knew you were a royal. Just didn’t think it went past the pain-in-the-ass part, is all.”
p. 321
Butch looked back at the Scribe Virgin.
“Do you have any idea how relieved—”
As Marissa gasped, V stepped in and slapped his gloved hand over Butch’s mouth, yanking him backward by the head and hissing in his ear, “Do you want to get fried like an egg here, buddy? No questions—”
“Ease from him, warrior,” the Scribe Virgin snapped. “This I wish to hear.”
V’s grip slid off his face. “Watch it.”
“Sorry about the question thing,” Butch said to the black robes. “But I just . . . I’m glad I know what’s in my veins. And honestly, if I die today, I’m grateful I finally know what I am.” He took Marissa’s hand. “And who I love. If this is where my life took me after all those years of being lost, I’d say my time here wasn’t wasted.”
There was a long silence. Then the Scribe Virgin said, “Do you regret that you leave behind your human family?”
“Nope. This is my family. Here with me now and elsewhere in the compound. Why would I need anything else?” The cursing in the room told him he’d thrown another question out there. “Yeah . . . ah, sorry—”
A soft feminine laugh came from under the robes. “You are rather fearless, human.”
“Or you could call it stupid.” As Wrath’s mouth