The Black Dagger Brotherhood (49 page)

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Authors: J. R. Ward

BOOK: The Black Dagger Brotherhood
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John nodded and looked at the twelve guys who were seated in pairs and staring at him
.
Whoa. Really not feeling the love here, fellas,
he thought
.
p. 140
After a moment Blaylock pulled a polite one and introduced the others. They all had odd names. The blond's was Lash. And how fricking appropriate was that?
p. 142
“This place is just too frickin' precious,”the cop said, eyeing a guy dressed in a hot pink leisure suit with makeup to match. “Give me rednecks and home-grown beer any day of the week over this X-culture bullshit.”
p. 158
“Just want to make sure your needs are served. Customer satisfaction is so damned important.” The male moved even closer and nodded at Phury's arm, the one that disappeared into his coat. “Your hand's on a gun butt right now, isn't it? Afraid of me?”
“Just want to make sure I can take care of you.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. In case you need a little Glock-to-mouth resuscitation.”
p. 159
That female who'd walked in on him and the Reverend clearly had a big mouth and . . . Christ. Butch must have already told Vishous. The two were like an old mated couple, no secrets between them. And V would squeal to Rhage. And once Rhage knew, you might as well have popped the news flash on the Reuters wire
.
p. 181
Their eyes met. She was so pretty, she made him dizzy.
“Do you want to kiss me?” she whispered.
John's eyes cracked open. Like a balloon had popped behind his head.
“Because I'd like you to.” She licked her lips a little. “I really would.”
Whoa . . .
Chance of a lifetime, right here
,
right now,
he thought.
Do
not pass
out. Passing out would be a total buzz kill.
John quickly called on every movie he'd ever seen . . . and got no help at all. As a horror fan, he was swamped by visions of Godzilla stomping across Tokyo and of Jaws chewing on the ass end of the Orca. Big help.
p. 215
. . . The guy was cracking down on the Brotherhood, organizing shifts, trying to turn four loose cannons like V, Phury, Rhage, and Z into soldiers. No wonder he always looked like his head hurt.
p. 219
Phury lit a blunt and eyed the sixteen cans of Aqua Net that were lined up on Butch and V's coffee table. “What's doing with the hair spray? You boys going drag on us?”
Butch held up the length of PVC pipe he was punching a hole in. “Potato launcher, my man. Big fun.”
“Excuse me?”
“Didn't you ever go to summer camp?”
“Basket weaving and woodcarving are for humans. No offense, but we have better things to teach to our youngs.”
“Ha! You haven't lived until you've gone on a midnight panty raid. Anyway, you put the potato in this end, you fill up the bottom with spray—”
“And then you light it,” V cut in from his bedroom. He came out in a robe, rubbing a towel on his wet hair. “Makes a great noise.”
“Great noise,” Butch echoed.
Phury looked at his brother. “V, you've done this before?”
“Yeah, last night. But the launcher jammed up.”
Butch cursed. “Potato was too big. Damn Idaho bakers. We're leading with red skins tonight. It's going to be great. Of course, trajectory can be a bitch—”
“But it's really just like golf,” V said, dropping the towel across a chair. He pulled a glove over his right hand, covering the sacred tattoos that marked the thing from palm to fingertip and all across the back. “I mean, you gotta think of your arc in the air—”
Butch nodded up a storm. “Yeah, it's just like golf. Wind plays a big role—”
“Huge.”
Phury smoked along as they finished each other's sentences for another couple minutes. After a while he felt compelled to mention, “The two of you are spending
way
too much time together, you feel me?”
V shook his head at the cop. “The brother has no appreciation for this kind of thing. Never has.”
“Then we aim for his room.”
“True that. And it faces the garden—”
“So we don't have to work around the cars in the courtyard. Excellent.”
pp. 259-260
Tohr laughed softly. “Yeah, I'm not much for the emotive crap either—Ouch! Wellsie, what the hell?”
p. 272
He put the bottle on the table next to him and held up his gloved hand. “After all, this godforsaken thing still glows like a lamp. And until I lose this whacked-out night-light of mine, I figure I'm still normal. Well . . . normal for me.”

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