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"Where is your brother?"

The question startled her. "Rehvenge? Ah... home, I guess."

"We go to him. Now." Zsadist took her hand and dragged her out into the foyer.

"Zsadist - "

"We will get his consent and we will be mated this night. And we will go in V's car. I don't want you dematerializing again."

Zsadist was pulling her to the door so fast, she was having to run. "Wait, Havers said I could until month - "

"I don't want to take any chances."

"Zsadist, that's not necessary."

Suddenly he stopped. "Are you sure you want my young?"

"Oh, yes. Oh, dear Virgin, yes. Even more now..." She smiled up at him. Took his hand. Placed it on her lower belly. "You're going to be a wonderful father."

And that was when he fell over in a dead faint.

Zsadist opened his eyes to find Bella looking down at him with love shining out of her face. All around his periphery there were other members of the household, but she was the only one he saw.

"Hi, there," she said softly.

He reached up and touched her face. He was not going to cry. He was not -

Oh, to hell with it.

He smiled up at her as the tears started rolling. "I hope... I hope it's a little girl who looks just like - "

His voice cut out. And then, yeah, like a complete flipping nancy, he broke down totally and wept like an idiot. In front of all the Brothers. And Butch. And Beth. And Mary. He was no doubt horrifying Bella with his weakness, but he couldn't help himself. This was the first time in his whole life that he had ever felt... blessed. Fortunate. Lucky. This moment, this perfect, shimmering moment in time, this one, sublime moment where he was flat on his back in the foyer, with his beloved Bella, and the young inside her, and the Brotherhood around him... this was his very luckiest day.

When his pathetic sobbing dried up, Rhage knelt down, grinning so wide his perfect cheeks were about to split. "We came running when your noggin cracked into the floor. Put 'er there, daddy-o. Can I teach the little bugger how to fight?"

Hollywood held out his hand, and as Zsadist took hold of it to shake, Wrath got down on his haunches. "Congratulations, my brother. May blessings from the Virgin be upon you and your shellan and your young."

By the time Vishous and Butch offered their laudatory words, Z was sitting up. Mopping up. God, he was such a pansy, crying all over himself. Shit. Good thing none of them seemed to mind.

As he took a deep breath, he looked around for Phury... and there his twin was.

In the two months since Phury's night out with that lesser, his hair had already grown down to his jawline, and the scar he'd put on his face was long gone. But his eyes were flat and sad. And they were sadder now, too.

Phury came forward and everyone got quiet.

"I should like to be an uncle," he said quietly. "I'm so happy for you, Z. You too... Bella."

Zsadist grabbed for Phury's palm and squeezed so hard he could feel his twin's bones. "You're going to be a fine uncle."

"And perhaps the ghardian?" Bella volunteered.

Phury bowed his head. "I would be honored to be the young's ghardian."

Fritz bustled in with a silver tray of slender glass flutes. The doggen was glowing and all atwitter with happiness. "To toast the occasion."

Voices mixed and mingled and glasses were passed and laughter sounded. Zsadist looked at Bella as someone put a flute in his hand.

I love you, he mouthed. She smiled back at him and pressed something into his hand. Her necklace.

"You keep this on you always," she whispered. "For good luck."

He kissed her hand. "Always."

Abruptly Wrath rose to his towering height, lifted up his champagne, and tilted back his head. In a tremendous, booming voice, he hollered so loud, you could have sworn the walls of the mansion shook.

"To the young!"

Everyone shot to their feet, raised their glasses, and yelled at the top of their lungs, "To the young!"

Ah, yes... Surely their chorus of voices was bold and deafening enough to carry to the Scribe Virgin's sacred ears. Which was precisely as tradition demanded.

What a true and proper toast, Z thought as he tugged Bella down to kiss her on the mouth.

"To the young!" the household all shouted once more.

"To you," he said against Bella's lips. "Nalla."

Chapter Fifty

"Yeah, well, I could have done without the passing-out part," Z muttered as he pulled into the driveway of the safe house Bella's family was living in. "And that whole bawling-my-eyes-red routine, too. Definitely could have lost that one. Christ."

"I thought you were very sweet."

With a groan he killed the engine, palmed his SIG Sauer, and went around to help her from the Escalade. Damn it. She already had the door open and was stepping out into the snow.

"Wait for me," he barked, grabbing for her arm.

She shot him a level stare. "Zsadist, if you keep treating me like a wineglass, I'm going to go nuts over the next sixteen months."

"Listen, female, I don't want you slipping on this ice. You're wearing high heels."

"Oh, for the love of the Virgin..."

He shut her car door, kissed her quickly, then put his arm around her waist and led her up the front walkway of a big, Tudor-style house. He scanned the snow-covered yard, his trigger finger itchy as hell.

"Zsadist, I want you to put the gun away before you meet my brother."

"No problem. We'll be in the house by then."

"We're not going to get jumped here. We're out in the middle of nowhere."

"If you think I'm taking even the slightest chance with you and my young, you are out of your mind."

He knew he was being overbearing as hell, but he couldn't help it. He was a bonded male. With his pregnant female. There were few things on the planet more aggressive or dangerous. And those bastards were called hurricanes and tornadoes.

Bella didn't argue with him. Instead she smiled and covered the hard hand on her waist with one of her own. "I guess you should be careful what you ask for."

"What do you mean?" He moved her in front of him as they came up to the door, blocking her with his body. He hated the porch light. It made them too conspicuous.

As he turned the thing off with his mind, she laughed, "I always wanted you for a bonded male."

He kissed the side of her neck. "Well, you got your wish. I'm deep bonded. Way deep bonded. Deep, deep, ultra - "

As he leaned forward and hit the brass knocker, his body came into full contact with hers. She made a little purring sound in the back of her throat and rubbed herself against him. He froze.

Oh, God. Oh... no, he was instantly erect. All it had taken was that one little move of hers and he had a big, flipping -

The door swung open. He expected to see a doggen on the other side. Instead there was a tall, slender female with white hair, a long black gown, and a whole lot of diamonds.

Crap. Bella's mother, Z hid the gun in the holster at the small of his back and made sure his double-breasted jacket was buttoned all the way down. Then he linked his hands together right in front of his zipper.

He'd dressed as conservatively as possible, in the first suit he'd ever worn. And he was even plugged into a pair of fancy-dancy loafers. He'd wanted to wear a turtleneck to cover up the slave band at his throat, but Bella had nixed that, and he supposed she was right. There was no hiding what he'd been, and there shouldn't be. Besides, no matter what he was dressed like, and even though he was a member of the Brotherhood, the glymera would never accept him - not just because he'd been used as a blood slave, but because of what he looked like.

Thing was, though, Bella had no use for them, and neither did he. Although he was going to try to put on a polite show for her family.

Bella went forward. "Mahmen."

As she and her mother embraced formally, Z came into the house, shut the door, and looked around. The manse was formal and wealthy, befitting the aristocracy, but he didn't give a shit about the drapes and the wallpaper. What he approved of was the lithium-powered security contacts on all the windows. And the laser receptors in the doorways. And the motion detectors on the ceiling. Huge points for all of that. Huge.

Bella stepped back. She was stiff around her mother, and he could see why. It was clear from the gown and all those sparklers that the female was a hard-core aristocrat. And aristocrats tended to be about as cozy as a snowdrift.


Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy