The Black Dagger Brotherhood_ An Insider's Guide - J. R. Ward [88]
V and his mother are reconciled to some degree at the end of Lover Unbound. But what remains to be seen is what happens when V’s twin, Payne, comes forward. Somehow I don’t think V is going to take that well to the way his sister’s been treated—or the fact that his mother has never mentioned Payne to him previously.
So that’s Lover Unbound.
They say that every author in the course of a career has a couple of books that are just grueling, and Vishous’s was definitely that way for me. Each one of the Brotherhood books has been a unique challenge, and getting them out is WORK. I struggle at the computer every day, but there’s always some small reward, whether it’s a dialogue exchange that really sings, or a great description, or a really good chapter ending. With V, the rewards were delayed, to be sure. It wasn’t until the final product was done that I sat back and was like, Okay, this works. This is all right.
I’m proud of LU, and I think it is a good book. . . . I’m just really grateful that the Brother who came next was true to his nature—a total gentleman.
Because if it had been another like V?
I don’t know that I could have gone through that kind of struggle again right away.
Phury, Son of Ahgony
“I am the strength of the race. I am the Primale. And so shall I rule!”
—LOVER ENSHRINED, p. 484
J.R.’s Interview with Phury:
After my noninterview with V, I head up to the kitchen and hand over my mug and napkin, along with my compliments, to Fritz and his staff. I’m informed that Phury has arrived and is waiting for me in the library, and I head there.
Breaching the room’s majestic entrance, I find Z’s twin facing the stacks. He’s got on a spectacular pin-striped black suit, and the contrast of his wavy, multicolored hair with the precisely tailored dark wool is arresting. He turns as I arrive. His shirt is blush pink with white collar and cuffs, and his tie is one of those Ferragamo small prints in red and pink . . . birds, I believe the pattern is birds.
Phury:
(frowning) What’s wrong?
J.R.:
Oh, nothing. (Looking around deliberately to avoid his yellow eyes.) God, I love this room. All the books . . .
Phury:
What’s happened?
At this point I head for one of the silk couches and sit down facing the fire. The cushions curl up around me, and the crackling of the cedar logs makes me think of winter things, like snow falling and canopy beds that are heavy with comforters and pillows.
Phury joins me on the sofa, jogging his trousers up at the thigh before sitting down. When he crosses his legs it’s in the European fashion, knee over knee, not ankle to knee. His hands link in his lap, his massive diamond pinkie ring flashing . . . and making me think of V.
Phury:
Let me guess . . . the interview with tall, dark, and icy didn’t go very well.
J.R.: I’m not surprised, though. (trying to shake self out of it) So tell me, how are the Chosen liking this side?
Phury:
(eyes narrowing) If you don’t want to talk about him, we won’t.
J.R.:
I appreciate the kindness, but honestly, that’s just the way it is. I’ll be fine.
Phury:
(after a long pause) Okay . . . the Chosen are doing surprisingly well. All but five have come for a visit on this side, and what they do here varies based on their personality and predilections. The way it works, we usually have anywhere between six and ten in the house up north and . . . You’re not tracking.
J.R.:
Between six and ten. Personality. Predilections.
Phury:
(standing up) Come on.
J.R.:
Where?
Phury:
(holds out hand) Trust me.
Like Z—and all the Brothers for that matter—Phury is someone you can put your faith in, so I lay my palm in his and he pulls me to my feet. I hope we’re not going to see V, and am relieved when, instead of heading back to the