The Black Dagger Brotherhood_ An Insider's Guide - J. R. Ward [53]
I’m really grateful Wrath came in for a landing and brought the Brothers along with him. His book is dedicated to him—with good reason.
Rhage, Son of Tohrture a.k.a. Hal E. Wood
He wanted to give her another word to say, something like luscious or whisper or strawberry. Hell, antidisestablishmentarianism would do it.
—LOVER ETERNAL, p. 63
Personal Qs (answered by Rhage):
J.R.’s Interview with Rhage
The afternoon following my interview with Wrath in that stream, I left Rehvenge’s safe house around five. I was glad I’d spent the night. Wrath and Beth and Phury and Cormia, along with the Chosen, were a great group to hang out with, and after hours of chatting I’d slept like a rock—proving that as usual the king was right: My other interviews with the Brothers were going to be better because I wasn’t half-dead from travel.
The car ride down through the Adirondacks to Caldwell was lovely. The Northway is one of my favorite highways, cutting as it does through the mountains I spent my summers in while growing up. With the leaves just past their autumnal peak, the jagged ridges on either side of the two lanes I drove were still awash in red and gold and green, the colors glowing like jewels as the sun set.
While I went along in my rental car, I thought how different the Brothers were compared to three autumns ago when their stories all started. I mean . . . so many losses and gains. So many ups and downs. I remembered that first meeting in Dark Lover, when they were in Darius’s living room right after his death . . . and then pictured them coming out of the woods to reclaim Phury as their own at the end of Lover Enshrined. Lot of changes, both good and bad.
I meet Fritz in the parking lot of a Marriott in Albany. He’s there with the Mercedes, and after locking up my rented Ford Escape, I get into the S550’s backseat and the butler drives south for at least an hour. He’s very chatty, and I love the sound of his voice: slightly accented, like Marissa’s, and with the chirpy cadence of a Mozart concerto.
I know we’re getting close when he puts up the divider and we talk through the car’s voice-activated speaker system.
When we eventually pull up in front of the mansion, night is starting to fall, and I’m glad for the courtyard’s lighting so I can see everything as he puts down the divider. He parks between Beth’s Audi and Z’s iron gray 911 Carrera 4S. On the other side of the Porsche there’s a black Hummer I don’t recognize with no chrome on it whatsoever—even the hubs are black. Without Fritz telling me, I know it has to be Qhuinn’s. It is a total spank ride, and no doubt useful for the fighting, but man, what a damn shame the thing leaves a carbon footprint like a T. rex.
Fritz confirms my unspoken conclusion about who owns it, and as I pass by, I see that the SUV has a dent in its brand-new hood . . . a dent the size of a body. A quick sniff and I smell something sweet as baby powder. This reminds me that the “boys” are now soldiers, and I get a little nostalgic for no good reason.
Fritz lets me into the mansion, takes my coat, and reports on everyone’s whereabouts—or at least where they were when he left to pick me up: Mary is over at the Pit with V and Marissa, working on a database for Safe Place. Butch, Qhuinn, and Blay are at the pistol range in the training center. John is in Tohr’s room sitting with the Brother. Rhage is upstairs, lying flat on his back next to a twelve-pack of Alka-Seltzer.
Ah, the beast.
The butler asks who I want to see first, and I ask whether he thinks Rhage would be up for talking. Fritz nods and informs me that Hollywood’s been looking forward to the distraction—so we head upstairs.
When I get to Rhage’s door, Fritz leaves and I do my own knocking.
Rhage:
(muffled) Yeah?
J.R.:
It’s me.
Rhage:
Oh, thank God. Come in.
I open the door and the bedroom is so dark, the stretch of light that slices in from the hall is consumed