The Beast (Black Dagger Brotherhood #14) - J. R. Ward Page 0,59

was she really conversing like this with a nine-year-old? “You have to let the grief out—”

“I’m going now. I’ll be upstairs in the attic. Please let me know when my uncle comes?”

With that, the girl let herself out and quietly re-closed the door. As Mary lowered her head into her hands, she listened to the little footsteps go over to the stairs and ascend to the third floor.

“Goddamn it,” she whispered.

As Rhage got up from the kitchen table, he wasn’t worried that whatever was rushing through the dining room and heading his way was the enemy. He was more concerned that someone in the household was in trouble.

Because there was another sound, layered on top of the footfalls.

A baby wailing.

Before he could get even halfway to the flap door, Beth, the Queen, came tearing into the room, her infant son hanging under one of her arms like a sack of potatoes, her free hand held up as she bled all over herself.

“Oh, shit!” Rhage said as he tripped over his bare feet to meet her at the sink. “What happened?”

His sight wasn’t as sharp as it could have been, but there seemed to be a lot of red on the front of her shirt. And he could smell the blood everywhere.

“Can you take him?” she said over L.W.’s yelling. “Please just take him?”

Annnnnnd that was how he ended up holding Wrath’s first and only born son under the pits like the young was an explosive device with a fuse that was running out fast.

“Ah…” he said as the kid kicked his little feet and wailed right in Rhage’s face. “Um … yeah, you want to go to the clinic with this?”

As he spoke, he wasn’t sure whether he was referring to the cut or the baby.

Moving the screaming bag of Wrath’s DNA to the side, he tried to see what was going on—was it her finger? Hand? Wrist?

“I was being stupid,” she muttered as she hissed. “I was outside on the terrace, taking him to see the moon because he likes it—and I wasn’t looking where I was going. I hit a patch of wet leaves and whoop! Feet went right out from under me. He was in my arms and I didn’t want to fall on him. Threw my damn hand out, caught it on a flagstone that was cracked and it sliced right through me. Shit … this isn’t stopping.”

Rhage winced as he wondered exactly how long the ringing in his ears was going to last after she took L.W. with her. “What … ah…”

“Hey, can you just stay with him for a minute? Doc Jane’s at the Pit, I just got a text from her. I’ll run across and have her look at this. I’ll be back in two secs.”

Rhage opened his mouth and froze like he had a gun to his head. “Ah, yeah. Sure. No problem.” Please don’t let me kill Wrath’s kid. PleasedontletmekillWrathskid. OhGodohGodohGod— “He and I’ll be just fine. I’ll give him some coffee and—”

“No.” Beth shut the faucet off and wrapped her hand in a towel. “No food, no drink. And I’ll be right back.”

The female left at a dead run, skidding out of the kitchen and racing through the dining room—and as she went all Usain Bolt, he had to wonder whether it was because of her hand … or the fact that she’d left her child with a total incompetent.

Annnnnnd L.W. was now really crying, like he’d figured out his mahmen had left and the hollering that had come before had just been a warm-up.

Rhage squeezed his eyes shut and started back for his seat at the table. But after two steps, he thought of Beth’s trip-and-fall and imagined himself flattening the kid like a panini. Going bug-lid, he proceeded heel-toe, heel-toe, as if he were balancing a crystal vase on the top of his skull. As soon as he got within range, he parked it on the chair and stood the kid up on those biscuit feet of his. L.W. wasn’t strong enough to hold his body up, but that screaming was straight rock-and-roll.

“Your mahmen’s coming back.” Please, dearest Virgin Scribe, let that female get back here before he was deaf. “Yup. Riiiight back.”

Rhage looked around the pair of very healthy lungs and prayed for someone, anyone to come running.

When that passive optimism didn’t pan out, he refocused on the red face.

“Buddy, your point’s been made. Trust me. I heaaaaaar you.”

Okay, if the definition of insanity was doing the