The Sinner - J. R. Ward Page 0,171

something of equal or greater value that they may need or like.”

There was a pause. “And?” Jo prompted.

That pale stare narrowed again. Then the voice dropped low. “Annnnnnd sometimes people need to be taught a lesson. It’s amazing how losing something you care about can reprioritize things. I do not apologize for that one. Ever.”

Jo blinked. And then found herself nodding. “Okay.”

She looked at Syn. He had taken a step back so that he was mostly hidden in the darkness outside the reach of the building’s security lights. And when he took another, he was nearly invisible, nothing but an outline in black blending in with the night.

“Your brothers will be there,” Balthazar said gently. “And Doc Jane will come so you have medical support. You will never be alone with me and there will be nothing sexual about it. I swear this on my honor— which, okay, fine, I don’t have a lot of, but what I do have is yours. You can trust me. All right?”

Jo searched that lean, hard face. And for some stupid reason, she got teary.

No, wait. She knew why.

In spite of everything that had gone down, and everything she knew about Syn . . . she still wanted it to be him.

“All right,” she said in a hoarse voice.

With that response, Syn took a final step away, the darkness enveloping him so completely that it was as if he disappeared—

“Syn?” she said.

Jo lurched forward and waved her hands around where he had been standing—well, waved one of her hands and then the gun she was still holding. There was nothing there. Not even the scent of him lingered. As her heart pounded, she turned to Balthazar.

“What happened to him?”

“Oh, hasn’t anyone told you? We have tricks. Poof! Bye-bye. And you know the whole bats, garlic, and crosses stuff is for crap, right? That’s only in the movies.”

“Will I be able to . . .”

“Dematerialize? It depends. Not everyone who’s a half-breed can.” He made a face. “Do you find that term derogatory? I mean, I don’t want to disrespect you.”

Jo glanced at the male and felt as helpless as a heroine in a Bruce Willis movie. At least the ones from the late eighties.

“I don’t know what to think or feel, about anything.”

She went back to staring at where Syn had been—and felt like the sudden absence of him was a great metaphor for their relationship. Poof! And he was gone.

She should be grateful. Relieved. Liberated.

Instead, she hurt. All over.

“So you love him back, huh.”

Wheeling around, Jo recoiled. “What did you say?”

The following night, the night when the war ended, there was no moon in the clear velvet sky over Caldwell, New York. No stars twinkling from their heavenly perch, either. The galaxy itself seemed to hunker down, taking cover to avoid shrapnel.

As Butch stepped out of the Pit’s front door, he glanced up and felt a dread he had never known. Then he looked to the mansion’s grand entrance. The heavy panels that locked tight to protect those inside swung open, and one by one, the Brotherhood emerged. Z was the first out, his skulled trimmed hair and brutal, scarred face the kind of thing Butch had gotten used to seeing. Phury was, of course, behind his twin. Then it was Tohrment. Murhder. And Rhage. Qhuinn and John Matthew. Blay was with them. After that, the Band of Bastards emerged, led by Xcor—

“I love you.”

At the sound of his shellan’s voice, Butch turned. Marissa stood behind him, terror in her eyes, as if she knew, without him saying, what he sensed was true. This was it.

Touching her soft cheek, all kinds of things went through his mind. But as before, as always, none of the promises he wished he could make to her were under his control, and he was not going to have the last thing he told her be a lie.

“I love you, too.”

Leaning in, he was aware of his black daggers biting into the pads of his chest as he kissed her.

“I’m going to stay home tonight,” she said.

The reason why went unspoken. She never missed work, but this was a “never” kind of night.

“Beth asked me to come over to the big house.” Marissa’s beautiful eyes searched his face like she was looking for which way the winds of fate were blowing. “You know, to watch a movie.”

“Can I suggest a comedy?”

“We’re going with Fockers. The whole series.”

“Stiller and De Niro. Excellent choice.”

They fell silent. Sometimes, between married people

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