The Black Dagger Brotherhood (54 page)

Read The Black Dagger Brotherhood Online

Authors: J. R. Ward

p. 142
V settled back against the pillows and measured the hard line of her chin. “Take off your coat.”
“Excuse me?”
“Take it off.”
“No.”
“I want it off.”
“Then I suggest you hold your breath. Won't affect me in the slightest, but at least the suffocation will help pass the time for you.”
p. 157
“What job do you have at the end, exactly?”
Please let it not be buying Hefty bags to put her body parts in.
“You aren't interested in what I am?”
“Tell you what, you let me go, and I'll ask you plenty of questions about your race. Until then, I'm slightly distracted with how this happy little vacation on the good ship
Holy Shit
is going to pan out for me.”
p. 163
When she drew the cloth downward, he pulled away.
“Don't want you near that hand of mine. Even if it's gloved.”
“Why is—”
“I'm not talking about it. So don't even ask.”
Okaaaay. “It nearly killed one of my nurses, you know.”
“I'm not surprised.” He glared at the glove. “I'd cut it off if I had the chance.”
“I wouldn't advise that.”
“Of course you wouldn't. You don't know what it's like to live with this nightmare on the end of your arm—”
“No, I meant I'd have someone else do the cutting if I were you. You're more likely to get the job done that way.”
There was a beat of silence; then the patient barked out a laugh. “Smart-ass.”
Jane hid the smile that popped up on her face by doing another dip/rinse routine. “Just rendering a medical opinion.”
pp. 171-172
“Sounds like you want a date, Lash,” Qhuinn barked. “Good deal, 'cause you keep that shit up, you're going to get fucked, buddy.”
p. 196
Red Sox looked around Jane at the patient. “Your mind reading coming back?”
“With her? Sometimes.”
“Huh. You getting anything from anyone else?”
“Nope.”
Red Sox repositioned his hat. “Well, ah . . . let me know if you pick up shit from me, 'k? There are some things that I'd prefer to keep private, feel me?”
“Roger that. Although I can't help it sometimes.”
“Which is why I'm going to take up thinking about baseball when you're around.”
“Thank fuck you're not a Yankees fan.”
“Don't use the Y-word. We're in mixed company.”
p. 199
Gimme an
S!
A
T
! An O! A C! Followed by a
K-H-O-L-M
! What's it spell?
HEAD FUCK.
The patient leaned down to her ear. “I can't see you as the cheerleader type. But you're right. We both would slaughter anything that so much as startled you.” The patient straightened again, one giant testosterone surge plugged into bedroom slippers.
Jane tapped him on the forearm and crooked her forefinger so he'd lean back down. When he did, she whispered, “I'm scared of mice and spiders. But you don't need to use that gun on your hip to blow a hole in a wall if I run into one, okay? Havahart traps and rolled newspapers work just as well. Plus, you don't need a Sheetrock patch and plaster job afterward. I'm just saying.”
She patted his arm, dismissing him, and refocused on the tunnel ahead.
pp. 199-200
Butch nodded as if he knew exactly what was doing. “Like I said, my man, it's whatever. You and me? Same as always, no matter who you screw. Although . . . if you're into sheep, that would be tough. Don't know if I could handle that.”
V had to smile. “I don't do farm animals.”
“Can't stand hay in your leathers?”
“Or wool in my teeth.”
p. 211
“She is.” Butch headed for the door but then paused and looked over his shoulder. “V?”
Vishous raised his stare. “Yeah?”
“I think you should know, after all this deep conversatin' . . .” Butch shook his head gravely. “We still ain't dating.”
p. 213
Standing in front of his locker three hours later, John wished Qhuinn would shut his damn piehole. Even though the locker room was loud from sounds of metal doors banging shut and clothes flapping and shoes dropping, he felt like his buddy had a bullhorn stapled to his upper lip.
“You're flippin' huge, J.M. For real. Like . . . ginormous.”
That is not a word.
John shoved his backpack in like he usually did and realized none of the clothes he was crushing would fit him anymore.
“The hell it isn't. Back me up, Blay.”

Other books

His Secret Desire by Alana Davis
Dust by Jacqueline Druga-marchetti
Ghost at Work by Carolyn Hart
The Alien Years by Robert Silverberg
The Greek's Baby Bargain by Elizabeth Lennox
Air by Lisa Glass
Beyond 4/20 by Heaton, Lisa
Feet on the Street by Roy Blount Jr.