The Savior (Black Dagger Brotherhood #17) - J.R. Ward Page 0,51

around the Brothers did not seem like a good idea.

“I wrapped her up in quilts,” he announced in a hoarse voice. “Let’s shut this place up tight. The cold will preserve her body for the Fade Ceremony.”

Murhder knew his mouth was moving and he guessed that he was communicating things which made at least nominal sense because Xhex and Rhage were nodding back at him. His mind was somewhere else, however.

I told you where to find him.

Except she hadn’t.

And he had already tried to find out if there were any other spin-off labs. Over the years, when he’d gotten particularly antsy, he had searched the Internet for signs that such research could still be going on. The original pharmaceutical company had shuttered its doors, and there were no more facilities registered under the name. He had taken that as a good sign, and tried to use it to ease his conscience—

As conversation swirled around him, his eyes went to the desk.

Murhder ran across the bare room like that half-written letter was the way out of a three alarm fire.

Picking the piece of paper up with shaking hands, he read the Old Language symbols—and exhaled in relief. Okay. All right. She had told him after all.

He knew where to go. Ithaca. There was a rebranded laboratory associated with the original one doing work in Ithaca. She’d found it after scouring PETA websites that tracked pharmaceutical companies with animal rights violations.

Opening his mouth, he turned to Xhex—and then shut things up tight. Rhage was looming in the corner, a big blond mountain who was chewing a grape Tootsie pop like a Great White.

Best to keep this quiet, Murhder thought as he slipped the letter into his pants pocket.

“Where’s her son?” Rhage asked as he chewed. “We can help bring him here.”

Murhder shook his head. “He’s dead. He didn’t make it. She told me this right before she died.”

The Brother lowered his head and cursed. “I am so sorry.”

“Me, too. It’s so much tragedy.” He was aware of Xhex frowning as she looked at him, but he refused to acknowledge her. Symphaths always knew too much. “I guess we should just go, then—”

“We can’t leave her here.” Rhage went over to the flimsy front door and gave it a shake. The thing had been left open on a why-bother because the inside of the shack was the same temperature as the great outdoors. “This isn’t strong enough, even if you lock it.”

“To keep out the wind, it damn sure is.”

“There are wolf tracks all over these woods, and we scented a pack while we came across the meadow. Go around back. You’ll see that they’ve been sniffing the property already.”

Murhder rubbed his eyes to get the grit out. “We’ll tie it shut. The door. The front door.”

He had no idea what he was saying.

Xhex spoke up. “Rhage is right. She’s not safe here. Let’s take her back to my cabin, and Murhder, you can stay with her the whole time. You can do the Fade Ceremony there. The place has been shut down for the winter, so it will be cold, and it’s solid.”

Damn it, just let me go, he wanted to yell. He needed to find the exact location of the rebranded lab and case the place. There was no way he was fucking up his last chance with a haphazard attack. And he needed weapons. Supplies. A plan.

“You can make sure she’s taken care of,” Xhex said flatly. “You don’t want to run the risk of her remains being desecrated.”

Before he could reply, Vishous stuck his head into the farmhouse. “Xhex. I need you to come back home with me right now.”

The heartbeat of silence that followed took Murhder back to his Brotherhood days. There were some combinations of words spoken in certain tones of voice that you didn’t want to ever hear.

And that right there?

Was one of them.

John sat naked on an exam table down in the training center’s clinic, hands on his thighs, fingers fiddling with the stitched edge of the blanket he’d wrapped around his waist. Doc Jane and Dr. Manello, a.k.a. Manny, had stepped out into the corridor to talk, and on the patient side of the door they’d closed, he tried to translate the low murmurs.

It was like reading tea leaves. Just vague hints.

He was dead bone tired, but he was not going to lie back. He’d tried that, and had felt a rolling panic, sure as if he were trapped or tied down. Yup, sitting

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