Lover Eternal: A Novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood by J. R. Ward Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J. R. Ward
Rhage—"
Butch didn't get the rest of the sentence out. V hit him like a piledriver, doing a grab and drag that ended only when they were both in the Escalade and the doors were shut.
Butch turned on the brother. "We're not leaving Rhage out there!"
A mighty roar split the night, and Butch slowly turned his head.
In the clearing he saw a creature. Some eight feet tall, it was built along the lines of a dragon, with teeth like a T. rex and a slashing pair of front claws. The thing flickered in the moonlight, its powerful body and tail covered with iridescent purple and lime-green scales.
"What the hell is that?" Butch whispered, fumbling to make sure the door was locked.
"Rhage in a really bad mood."
The monster let loose another howl and went after the lessers as though they were toys. And it… Good Lord . There wasn't going to be anything left of the slayers. Not even bones.
Butch felt himself beginning to hyperventilate.
Dimly, he heard the sound of a lighter being teed off, and he glanced across the seat. V's face caught and held the flare of yellow as he lit a hand-rolled with shaky hands. When the brother exhaled, the tang of Turkish tobacco filled the air.
"Since when has he…" Butch turned back to the creature feature playing in the clearing. And totally lost his train of thought.
"Rhage pissed off the Scribe Virgin, so she cursed him. Gave him two hundred years of hell. Anytime he gets too worked up, presto-change-o. Pain can set it off. Anger. Physical frustration, if you feel me."
Butch cocked an eyebrow. And to think he'd gotten between that guy and a woman he wanted. Never pulling that kind of stupidity again.
As the carnage continued, Butch began to feel as if he were watching the Sci-Fi Channel with the sound on mute. Man, this kind of violence was out of even his league. In all his years as a homicide detective, he'd seen plenty of dead bodies, some of which had been hard-core gruesome. But he'd never witnessed a slaughter in live action before, and oddly, the shock of it removed the experience from reality.
Thank God.
Although he had to admit the beast was a smooth mover. The way it spun that lesser up into the air and caught the slayer with its…
"Does it happen often?" he asked.
"Often enough. That's why he goes for the sex. Keeps him calm. I'll tell you this, you don't screw around with the beast. It doesn't know who's a friend and who's lunch. All we can do is wait around until Rhage comes back and then take care of him."
Something bounced on the hood of the Escalade with a bang. Oh, God, was that a head? No, a boot. Maybe the creature didn't like the taste of rubber.
'Take care of him?" Butch murmured.
"How'd you like it if every bone in your body was broken? He goes through a change when that thing comes out, and as it leaves, he gets nailed again."
In short order, the clearing was empty of lessers . With another deafening roar, the beast wheeled around as if looking for more to consume. Finding no other slayers, its eyes focused on the Escalade.
"Can it get into the car?" Butch asked.
"If it really wants to. Fortunately, it can't be very hungry."
"Yeah, well… what if it's got room for Jell-o," Butch muttered.
The beast shook its head, black mane tossing in the moonlight. Then it howled and charged at them, running on two legs. The pounding of its stride called thunder and tremors out of the earth.
Butch checked the door lock one more time. Then thought about being a pansy and maybe hitting the floor.
The creature stopped right next to the SUV and fell into a crouch. It was close enough so its breath fogged Butch's window on the exhale, and up close, the thing was hideous. White narrowed eyes. Snarling jowls. And the full set of fangs in its gaping mouth was right out of a fever nightmare. Black blood ran down its chest like crude oil.
The beast lifted its muscled forelegs.
Jesus, those claws were like daggers. Made
Butch didn't get the rest of the sentence out. V hit him like a piledriver, doing a grab and drag that ended only when they were both in the Escalade and the doors were shut.
Butch turned on the brother. "We're not leaving Rhage out there!"
A mighty roar split the night, and Butch slowly turned his head.
In the clearing he saw a creature. Some eight feet tall, it was built along the lines of a dragon, with teeth like a T. rex and a slashing pair of front claws. The thing flickered in the moonlight, its powerful body and tail covered with iridescent purple and lime-green scales.
"What the hell is that?" Butch whispered, fumbling to make sure the door was locked.
"Rhage in a really bad mood."
The monster let loose another howl and went after the lessers as though they were toys. And it… Good Lord . There wasn't going to be anything left of the slayers. Not even bones.
Butch felt himself beginning to hyperventilate.
Dimly, he heard the sound of a lighter being teed off, and he glanced across the seat. V's face caught and held the flare of yellow as he lit a hand-rolled with shaky hands. When the brother exhaled, the tang of Turkish tobacco filled the air.
"Since when has he…" Butch turned back to the creature feature playing in the clearing. And totally lost his train of thought.
"Rhage pissed off the Scribe Virgin, so she cursed him. Gave him two hundred years of hell. Anytime he gets too worked up, presto-change-o. Pain can set it off. Anger. Physical frustration, if you feel me."
Butch cocked an eyebrow. And to think he'd gotten between that guy and a woman he wanted. Never pulling that kind of stupidity again.
As the carnage continued, Butch began to feel as if he were watching the Sci-Fi Channel with the sound on mute. Man, this kind of violence was out of even his league. In all his years as a homicide detective, he'd seen plenty of dead bodies, some of which had been hard-core gruesome. But he'd never witnessed a slaughter in live action before, and oddly, the shock of it removed the experience from reality.
Thank God.
Although he had to admit the beast was a smooth mover. The way it spun that lesser up into the air and caught the slayer with its…
"Does it happen often?" he asked.
"Often enough. That's why he goes for the sex. Keeps him calm. I'll tell you this, you don't screw around with the beast. It doesn't know who's a friend and who's lunch. All we can do is wait around until Rhage comes back and then take care of him."
Something bounced on the hood of the Escalade with a bang. Oh, God, was that a head? No, a boot. Maybe the creature didn't like the taste of rubber.
'Take care of him?" Butch murmured.
"How'd you like it if every bone in your body was broken? He goes through a change when that thing comes out, and as it leaves, he gets nailed again."
In short order, the clearing was empty of lessers . With another deafening roar, the beast wheeled around as if looking for more to consume. Finding no other slayers, its eyes focused on the Escalade.
"Can it get into the car?" Butch asked.
"If it really wants to. Fortunately, it can't be very hungry."
"Yeah, well… what if it's got room for Jell-o," Butch muttered.
The beast shook its head, black mane tossing in the moonlight. Then it howled and charged at them, running on two legs. The pounding of its stride called thunder and tremors out of the earth.
Butch checked the door lock one more time. Then thought about being a pansy and maybe hitting the floor.
The creature stopped right next to the SUV and fell into a crouch. It was close enough so its breath fogged Butch's window on the exhale, and up close, the thing was hideous. White narrowed eyes. Snarling jowls. And the full set of fangs in its gaping mouth was right out of a fever nightmare. Black blood ran down its chest like crude oil.
The beast lifted its muscled forelegs.
Jesus, those claws were like daggers. Made
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