Lover Mine (Black Dagger Brotherhood #8) - J.R. Ward Page 0,6

way things had been left between them, made cosmic sense.

They didn't go far enough for him, however. What Xhex had worn around her legs to tame her symphath side didn't offer the kind of permanence he was looking for, and that was what had led him to his own metal-on-skin convention. When he was through here, she would always be with him. In his skin as well as under it. On his shoulders as well as his mind.

Hopefully this human was doing a good job with the design. When the Brothers needed tattoos for whatever reason, Vishous worked the needle and the guy was a pro at it--hell, the red tear on Qhuinn's face and the black scrolling date around the back of his neck were spank. Trouble was, you went to V with a job like this one and suddenly there were going to be questions--not just from him, but from everyone else. Not many secrets in the Brotherhood, and John would just as soon keep his feelings for Xhex to himself.

The truth was . . . he was in love with her. Totally over-the-line, nogoing-back, not-even-dead-would-he-part kind of shit. And although his hearts and flowers hadn't been unrequited, that didn't matter. He'd come to peace with the fact that the one he wanted didn't want him. What he could not live with was her being tortured or dying a slow, excruciating death.

Or him not being able to give her a proper burial.

He was obsessed with her disappearance. Single-minded to the point of self-destruction. Brutal and unforgiving toward the one who'd taken her. But that was nobody else's biz.

The only good thing in the sitch was that the Brotherhood was likewise committed to figuring out what the hell had happened to her. The Brothers didn't leave anyone behind on a mission, and when they'd gone up to get Rehvenge out of that symphath colony, Xhex had been very much a member of the team. When the dust had cleared, and she'd disappeared entirely, the assumption was that she'd been abducted, and there were two possible ways to go: symphaths or lessers. Which was kind of like saying, Do you want her to come down with polio or Ebola?

Everyone, including John, Qhuinn, and Blay, was on the case. As a result? It just looked as though finding her was part of John's job as a soldier in war.

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The humming of the needle stopped and the artist wiped at his back.

"It's looking good," the guy said, resuming his work. "You want to do it in two sessions or just this one."

John glanced at Blay and signed.

"He says he wants it done tonight if you have the time," Blay translated.

"Yeah, I can do that. Mar? Call Rick and tell him I'm going to be late."

"Dialing as we speak," the receptionist said. Nope, John wasn't going to let the Brothers see this ink--no matter how great it looked.

The way he saw it, he'd been born in a bus station and left for dead. Thrown into the human child welfare system. Picked up by Tohr and his mate, only to have her killed and the guy disappear. And now Z, who'd been the one assigned to reach out to him, was understandably busy with his shellan and their new young.

Even Xhex had shut him out before the tragedy.

So, whatever, he could take a hint. Besides, it was curiously liberating not to give a shit about anyone else's opinion. Freed him up to nurture his violent obsession with tracking down her abductor and ripping the fucker limb from limb.

"You mind telling me what this is?" the tattoo guy asked. John lifted his eyes and figured there was no reason to lie to the human. Besides, Blay and Qhuinn knew the truth.

Blay looked a little surprised, but then translated. "He says it's his girl's name."

"Ah. Yeah, I figured. You two getting married?" After John signed, Blay said, "It's a memorial." There was a pause and then the tattoo guy put his gun down on the rolling table where the ink was. After yanking up the sleeve of his black shirt, he put his forearm in front of John. On it was the picture of a gorgeous woman, her hair breezing out over her shoulder, her eyes focused so that she looked out of his skin.

"That was my girl. She's not here anymore either." With a sharp tug, the guy covered up the picture. "So I get it." As the needle got back to work, John found