Lover Avenged (Black Dagger Brotherhood #7) - J. R. Ward Page 0,128

her life, and there was no reason to do a full disclosure now, especially if their mother was dying.

Which Madalina wasn’t, he reminded himself.

“Mahmen—”

“Your sister must never be told.”

Rehv stiffened, praying he’d heard her right. “Excuse me?”

“Swear to me you shall do everything in your power to ensure that she never knows.” As his mother leaned forward and gripped his arms, he could tell she was really digging her fingers in by the way the bones in her hands and wrists stood out starkly. “I don’t want her to carry these burdens. You were forced to, and I would have spared you this if I could have, but I couldn’t. And if she doesn’t know, then the next generation will not have to suffer. Nalla will not bear the weight either. It can die with you and me. Swear to me.”

Rehv stared up into his mother’s eyes and never loved her more.

He nodded once. “Look upon mine face and be assured, I so swear it. Bella and her issue shall never know. The past shall die with thee and me.”

His mother’s shoulders eased under her dressing gown, and her shuddering sigh spoke loudly of her relief. “You are the son other mothers may only wish for.”

“How can that possibly be true,” he said softly.

“How can it not.”

Madalina gathered herself up and took the kerchief from his hand. “I must needs do this one again, and then perhaps you will help me to my bed?”

“Of course. And I’d like to call Havers.”

“No.”

“Mahmen—”

“I should like my passing to be without medical intervention. None would save me now, anyway.”

“You can’t know that—”

She lifted her lovely hand with its heavy diamond ring. “I shall be dead before nightfall tomorrow. I saw it within the bowl.”

Rehv’s breath left him, his lungs refusing to work. I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready. I’m not ready….

Madalina was so precise with the final kerchief, lining up its corners carefully, sweeping the iron back and forth slowly. When she was finished, she moved the perfect square over to the others, making sure that everything was lined up.

“It is done,” she said.

Rehv leaned on his cane to rise and offered her his arm, and together they shuffled into her bedroom, both unsteady.

“Are you hungry?” he asked as he pulled back the covers and helped her lie down.

“No, I am well as I am.”

Their hands worked together to arrange the sheets and the blanket and the duvet so that everything was folded precisely and lying directly across her chest. As he straightened, he knew she would not be getting out of bed again, and he couldn’t bear it.

“Bella needs to come here,” he said roughly. “She needs to say good-bye.”

Her mother nodded and shut her eyes. “She must come now, and please have her bring the young.”

Back in Caldwell, at the Brotherhood mansion, Tohr paced around his bedroom. Which was a joke, really, considering how weak he was. Lurched was about all he could pull off.

Every minute and a half he checked the clock, time passing at an alarming rate until he felt as if the world’s hourglass had been shattered and seconds, like sand, were spilling all over the place.

He needed more time. More…Shit, would that even help, though?

He just couldn’t figure out how to get through what was about to happen and knew more stewing wasn’t going to change that. For example, he couldn’t decide whether it was better to have a witness. The advantage was that it was even less personal that way. The disadvantage was that if he cracked wide open, there was another person in the room to see.

“I’ll stay.”

Tohr glanced over at Lassiter, who was lounging on the chaise by the windows. The angel’s legs were crossed at the ankles, and one combat boot ticked from side to side, another hateful measure of time.

“Come on,” Lassiter said, “I’ve seen your sorry ass naked. What could possibly be worse than that.”

The words were typical bravado, the tone surprisingly gentle—

The knock on the door was soft. So it wasn’t a Brother. And given that there was no food aroma working its way under the door, it wasn’t Fritz with a tray of eats destined for the porcelain throne.

The call to Phury had worked, evidently.

Tohr started to shake from head to toe.

“Okay, easy, there.” Lassiter got up and came over fast. “I want you to park it over here. You’re not going to want to do this anywhere near a bed. Come on—no, don’t fight me. You