The Black Dagger Brotherhood (56 page)

Read The Black Dagger Brotherhood Online

Authors: J. R. Ward

Looked like someone had nailed him in the hey-nanny-nannies with a wet sponge.

p. 49-50

“You got hair like a girl,” Mr. D said.

“And you smell like bubble bath. At least I can get a trim.”

p. 60

The king's voice resonated through the wall she leaned against. “Not having fun tonight, Z? You look like someone's shit on your front lawn.”

p. 73

You're a freak. But I really can't accept theseâ

“Were you raised in a barn? Don't be ruuuuuuuuuuuuude, my boy. They're a gift.”

Blay shook his head. “Take them, John. You're just going to lose this argument, and it will save us from the theatrics.”

“Theatrics?” Qhuinn leaped up and assumed a Roman oratory pose. “Whither thou knowest thy ass from thy elbow, young scribe?”

Blay blushed. “Come onâ”

Qhuinn threw himself at Blay, grasping onto the guy's shoulders and hanging his full weight off him. “Hold me. Your insult has left me breathless. I'm agasp.”

Blay grunted and scrambled to keep Qhuinn up off the floor. “That's agape.”

“Agasp sounds better.”

Blay was trying not to smile, trying not to be delighted, but his eyes were sparkling like sapphires and his cheeks were getting red.

With a silent laugh, John sat on one of the locker room benches, shook out his pair of white socks, and pulled them on under his new old jeans
. You sure, Qhuinn? 'Cuz I have a feeling they're going to fit and you might change your mind.

Qhuinn, abruptly lifted himself off Blay and straightened his clothes with a sharp tug. “And now you offend my honor.” Facing off at John, he flipped into a fencing stance. “TouchÃ©.”

Blay laughed. “That's en garde, you damn fool.”

Qhuinn, shot a look over his shoulder. “
Ãa va,
Brutus?”

“
Et tu!
”

“That would be
tutu
, I believe, and you can keep the cross-dressing to yourself, ya perv.” Qhuinn flashed a brilliant smile, all twelve kinds of proud for being such an ass. “Now, put the fuckers on, John, and let's be done with this. Before we have to put Blay in an iron lung.”

“Try sanitarium!”

“No, thanks, I had a big lunch.”

pp. 121-122

Xhex offered him her arm without looking at him because she knew he was too much of a pride-filled dickhead to lean on her otherwise. And he needed to lean on her. He was weak as shit.

“I hate when you're right,” he said.

“Which explains why you're usually so short-tempered.”

p. 163

In spite of the exhaustion that was dragging at him, he shook his head. “Tell me.”

“You don'tâ”

“You tell me . . . or I'm going to get up and start doing fucking Pilates.”

“Whatever. You've always said that was for pansies.”

“Fine. Jujitsu. Talk before I pass out, would you?”

p. 228

“Understood. And listen, I'm going to want to help Havers out. It's too much for him to set up the new clinic and care for patients. Thing is, it's going to involve some days off-site for me.”

“Vishous okay with that security risk?”

“Not his call, and I'm telling you only out of courtesy.” The female laughed dryly. “Don't give me that look. I'm already dead. It's not like the lessers can kill me again.”

“That is so not funny.”

“Gallows humor is part of having a doctor in the house. Deal with it.”

Wrath barked a laugh. “You are such a hard-ass. No wonder V fell for you.”

pp. 237-238

The hidden entrance to the escape tunnel was all the way in the far comer to the right and it was shielded by bookshelves that were on a slide. You simply reached out, pulled the copy of
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
forward, and a latch released, causing the partition to retract and revealâ

“You are such a moron. ”

Qhuinn, jumped like an Olympian. There, in the tunnel, seated in an outdoor lounger like he was getting a tan, was Blay. He had a book on his lap, a battery-operated lamp on a little table, and a blanket over his legs.

The guy calmly lifted a glass of orange juice up in toast, then took a sip. “Hellllllllo, Lucy.”

“What the fuck? You're like lying in wait for me or some shit?”

“Yup.”

“What was in your bed?”

“Pillows and my head blankie. I've had a nice little chill sesh hanging here. Good book, too.” He flashed the cover of A Season in Purgatory. “I like Dominick Dunne. Good writer. Great glasses.”

pp. 270-271