Lover at Last (Black Dagger Brotherhood #11) - J.R. Ward Page 0,63

stopping this, but they could damn well be on hand when things—

Crunch!

—ended.

The airplane finally met an inanimate object it couldn’t get the best of: the shed that was used to keep some of the lawn equipment and gardening supplies in at the very rear of the garden.

Dead stop.

And it was way too quiet. All Blay heard was the pffing impact of his shitkickers traveling through the snow, and his breath punching out into the cold air, and the scramble of the others behind him.

He was the first to reach the aircraft, and he went for the door that by some miracle was facing outward and not into the concrete wall. Wrenching the thing open, and getting out his flashlight, he didn’t know what to expect inside—smoke? Fumes? Blood and body parts?

Zsadist was sitting rigid in a backward-facing seat, his big body strapped in, both hands locked on the armrests. The Brother was staring straight ahead and not blinking.

“Have we stopped moving?” he said hoarsely.

Okay, apparently even a Brother could feel shock.

“Yes, you have.” Blay didn’t want to be rude, but now that he was sure one of them had made it, he had to see if Qhuinn—

The male stumbled out of the cockpit. In the light of Blay’s beam, he looked like he’d been on a hard-core amusement ride, his hair slicked back from his windburned forehead, his blue and green eyes peeled wide in a face that was striped with fresh blood, every limb on him shaking.

“Are you all right!” he hollered, like maybe his ears were ringing in the aftermath of a lot of noise. “Z—say something—”

“I’m right here,” the Brother answered, grimacing as he pried one of his clawed hands off the armrest and held it up. “I’m okay, son—I’m all right.”

Qhuinn grabbed onto what was extended, and that was when his knees went out from under him. He just crumpled around their clasped palms, his voice cracking so much he could barely speak.

“I just…wanted you to be okay….I just…wanted you…to be okay—oh, God…for your daughter…I just wanted you to be okay….”

Zsadist, the Brother who never touched anyone, reached out and put his free hand on Qhuinn’s bent head. Looking up, he said softly, “Don’t let anyone in here. Give him a minute, ’kay?”

Blay nodded and turned away, blocking the doorway with his body. “They’re all right—they’re all right….”

As he babbled at the crowd, the number of faces staring up at him was a good dozen, but Bella wasn’t among them. Where was she—

“Zsadist! Zsaaaaaaaaaaaaadist!”

The scream carried all the way across the glowing blue lawn as, up at the terrace, a lone figure shot out into the snow at a dead run.

Lots of people shouted back at Bella, but he doubted she heard a thing.

“Zsaaaaaaaaaadist!”

As she skidded into range, Blay immediately reached for her, concerned she was going to slam right into the side of the plane. And, oh, God, he was never going to forget the expression on her face—it was more horrific than any war atrocity he’d ever seen, as if she were being flayed alive, sure as her arms and legs were strapped down and pieces of her very flesh were being peeled from her body.

Qhuinn jumped out of the aircraft. “He’s okay, he’s all right, I promise you—he’s just fine.”

Bella froze, like that was the last thing she expected anyone to say.

“My nalla, come inside,” Z said in that same quiet tone he’d used on Qhuinn. “Come in here.”

The female actually looked at Blay like she needed a check-in that she was hearing correctly. In response, he simply took her elbow and helped her through the aircraft’s little doorway.

Then he turned away and once again blocked the portal. As sounds of a female weeping openly in relief emanated, he saw Qhuinn draw his hands over his eyes like the male was clearing his own face of tears.

“Holy shit, son, I didn’t know you could fly a plane,” somebody said.

As Qhuinn looked up and appeared to glance across the landscape, Blay did the same. Talk about your post-apocalyptic scenes: There was a gully extending all along the flight path, like the finger of God had drawn a little line right through the garden.

“Actually…I can’t,” Qhuinn mumbled.

V put his hand-rolled between his lips and extended his palm. “You got my Brother home in one piece. Fuck the rest of that shit.”

“Word—”

“Yeah, thanks be to God—”

“Hell, yeah—”

“Amen—”

One by one, the Brotherhood came forward, each putting his dagger hand out. The procession took time, but nobody seemed