he lost it, things got nasty for everyone, himself included.
God, he was tired of being stuck inside his body, managing its demands, trying not to fall into a brutal oblivion. Sure, his stunner of a face and the strength were all fine and good. But he would have traded both to a scrawny, ugly mo'fo, if it would have gotten him some peace. Hell, he couldn't even remember what serenity was like. He couldn't even remember who he was.
The disintegration of himself had started up pretty quick. After only a couple of years into the curse, he'd stopped hoping for any true relief and simply tried to get by without hurting anyone. That was when he'd started to die on the inside, and now, over a hundred years later, he was mostly numb, nothing more than glossy window dressing and empty charm.
On every level that counted, he'd given up trying to pretend he was anything but a menace. Because the truth was, no one was safe when he was around. And that was what really killed him, even more than the physical stuff he had to go through when the curse came out of him. He lived in fear of hurting one of his brothers. And, as of about a month ago, Butch.
Rhage walked around the SUV and looked through the windshield at the human male. God, who'd have thought he'd ever be tight with a Homo sapiens?
“We going to see you later, cop?”
Butch shrugged. “Don't know.”
“Good luck, man.”
“It'll be what it is.”
Rhage swore softly as the Escalade took off and he and Vishous walked across the parking lot.
“Who is she, V? One of us?”
“Marissa.”
“Marissa? As in Wrath's former shellan?” Rhage shook his head. “Oh, man, I need details. V, you gotta hook me.”
“I don't ride him about it. And neither should you.”
“Aren't you curious?”
V didn't reply as they came up to the bar's front entrance. “Oh, right. You already know, don't you?” Rhage said. “You know what's going to happen.”
V merely lifted his shoulders and reached for the door. Rhage planted his hand on the wood, stopping him. “Hey, V, you ever dream of me? You ever see my future?”
Vishous swiveled his head around. In the neon glow of a Coors sign, his left eye, the one with the tattoos around it, went all black. The pupil just expanded until it ate up the iris and the white part, until there was nothing but a hole.
It was like staring into infinity. Or maybe into the Fade as you died.
“Do you really want to know?” the brother said.
Rhage let his hand drop to his side. “Only one thing I care about. Am I going to live long enough to get away from my curse? You know, find a slice of calm?”
The door flew open and a drunken man lurched out like a truck with a broken axle. The guy headed for the bushes, threw up, and then lay facedown on the asphalt.
Death was one sure way to find peace, Rhage thought. And everyone died. Even vampires. Eventually.
He didn't meet his brother's eyes again. “Scratch it, V. I don't want to know.”
He'd been cursed once already and still had another ninety-one years before he was free. Ninety-one years, eight months, four days until his punishment was over and the beast would no longer be a part of him. Why should he volunteer for a cosmic whammy like knowing he wouldn't live long enough to be free of the damn thing?
“Rhage.”
“What?”
“I'll tell you this. Your destiny's coming for you. And she's coming soon.”
Rhage laughed. “Oh, yeah? What's the female like? I prefer them—”
“She's a virgin.”
A chill shot down Rhage's spine and nailed him in the ass. “You're kidding, right?”
“Look in my eye. Do you think I'm jerking you off?”
V paused for a moment and then opened the door, releasing the smell of beer and human bodies along with the pulse of an old Guns N' Roses song.
As they went inside, Rhage muttered, “You're some freaky shit, my brother. You really are.”
Black Dagger Brotherhood 2 - Lover Eternal
Chapter Three
Pavlov had a point, Mary thought while she drove downtown. Her panic reaction to the message from Dr. Delia Croce's office was a trained one, not something logical. “Further tests” could be a lot of things. Just because she associated any kind of news from a physician with catastrophe didn't mean she could see into the future. She had no idea what, if anything, was wrong. After all, she'd been in remission for close to