X felt his blood rise and reminded himself that anger was not appropriate for a leader. Calm, levelheaded domination worked best. He took a deep breath before speaking again.
“You took out some of our best assets tonight. And it is going to stop, Mr. O. Right now.”
Mr. X lifted his boot. The other lesser immediately sprang up from the floor.
Just as Mr. O was about to speak, an odd, discordant hum weaved through the night. He looked toward the sound.
Mr. X smiled. “Now if you don't mind, get the hell into that bedroom.”
Mr. O crouched into an attack pose. “What's that?”
“It's time for a little behavior modification. A little punishment, too. So get into the bedroom.”
By now the sound was so loud it was more a vibration of the air than something ears could register.
Mr. O shouted, “I told you the truth.”
“Into the bedroom. The time for talking's passed.” Mr. X glanced over his shoulder, in the direction of the hum. “Oh, for chrissakes.”
He froze the large muscles in the other lesser's body and manhandled Mr. O into the other room, shoving him down on the bed.
The front door burst wide open.
Mr. O's eyes bulged as he took in the Omega. “Oh… God… no…”
Mr. X tidied up the man's clothes, straightening the jacket and the shirt. For good measure, he smoothed all that dark brown hair down and kissed Mr. O's forehead, as if he were a child.
“If you'll excuse me,” Mr. X murmured, “I'm going to leave the two of you alone.”
Mr. X took the back door out of the cabin. He was just getting into his car when the screams started.
Black Dagger Brotherhood 2 - Lover Eternal
Chapter Eight
“Ah, Bella, I think our ride is here.” Mary let the curtain fall back into place. “Either that or a third-world dictator is lost in Caldwell.”
John headed for the window. Wow, he signed. Check out that Mercedes. Those blackened windows look bulletproof.
The three of them left Bella's house and walked over to the sedan. A little old man, dressed in black livery, got out of the driver's side and came around to greet them. Incongruously, he was a cheery sort, all smiles. With the loose skin on his face, his long earlobes, and all those jowls, he looked like he was melting, though his radiant happiness suggested disintegration was a fine state to be in.
“I am Fritz,” he said, bowing low. “Please allow me to drive you.”
He opened the rear door and Bella slid inside first. John was next, and when Mary was settled back against the seat, Fritz closed the door. A second later they were on the road.
As the Mercedes glided along, Mary tried to see where they were going, except the windows were too dark. She assumed they were headed north, but who knew?
“Where is this place, Bella?” she asked.
“It's not far.” But the woman didn't sound all that confident. In fact, she'd been on edge since Mary and John had shown up.
“Do you know where we're being taken?”
“Oh, sure.” The woman smiled and looked at John. “We're going to meet some of the most amazing males you've ever seen.”
Mary's instincts knocked around in her chest, sending all kinds of tread-carefully signals. God, she wished she'd taken her own car.
Twenty minutes later, the Mercedes slowed to a stop. Inched forward. Stopped again. This happened at regular intervals a number of times. Then Fritz put down his window and spoke into some kind of intercom. They cruised along a little farther, then came to a stop. The engine was turned off.
Mary reached for the door. It was locked.
America 's Most Wanted, here we come, she thought. She could just imagine their pictures on the TV, victims of violent crime.
But the driver let them out immediately, still with that smile on his face. “Won't you follow me?”
As Mary got out, she looked around. They were in some kind of underground parking lot, except there were no other cars. Just two small buses, like the kind you took around an airport.
They stuck close to Fritz and went through a pair of thick metal doors that opened into a maze of fluorescent-lit corridors. Thank God the guy seemed to know where he was going. There were branches splitting off in all directions with no rational plan, as if the place had been designed to get people lost and keep them that way.
Except someone would always know where you were, she thought. Every ten yards there was a pod set into the ceiling.