The Beloved, page 39
The question was what you did when you were there. And who out of your family of origin was still by your side: At some point, after the dependency of childhood dissipated, blooded relations had to be chosen like friends—or should be.
Turning to the moving boxes that had been filled, taped shut, and stacked by the exit, she regarded each one as an adult version of a child’s building blocks set, everything balanced on the base row, the tops ascending like a set of stairs, one box, two box, three box, four… and then she was out the door.
She would be back, of course. But it would be as a welcomed guest, not as a resident, and that divide was a valley that would not be crossed, ever again.
Blinking back tears, she measured all the hooks that she needed to remove from the walls. There was only one photograph left to take down, and she went over to the image of a beach scene with the sun hovering at the horizon.
In this room that was being broken down, it looked like a sunset. As she pictured the thing hanging on the wall at Nate’s? The image became a sunrise.
If that wasn’t a commentary on how perspective changed everything, she didn’t know what was.
Reaching up, she took the picture off its mount and held it to her heart. Funny, she couldn’t remember exactly when she’d put it up. But she was never going to forget taking it down—
“Hi.”
Nalla looked over her shoulder. In the doorway, Bitty was standing with her hands in the pockets of her parka, her sneakers pressed together tight and her shoulders tensed up. Her pink-highlighted hair was down and curling up at the ends, and with the windburn on her cheeks, she’d clearly just come from the outside world.
“Hi,” Nalla said. Then she held up her finger in a wait-a-minute. “I found one of your sweatshirts.”
She propped the photograph against the wall with the others, and went over to her bureau. The orange Syracuse hoodie she’d set aside was another thing that held a lot of memories.
“Here.” She brought it over. “I should have given it back a year ago, but you know, once it gets in a drawer…”
Bitty’s hands shook ever so slightly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Nalla stepped back and motioned around. “As you can see, I’m—”
“I’m really sorry. About what I said that night we fought. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what was wrong with me—”
Nalla held her palm up. “Please. I was being ridiculous and defensive. You were right about everything, including the fact that those photographs…” She bent down and turned the sunrise/sunset back around so the image showed. “These pictures are of places I will never go.”
“But they’re also windows into the world up above and you love them. I had no right to attack what you like to look at.”
“Well, at the time?” She smiled. “I was tearing down your guru for no good reason. Fair’s fair.”
“She’s not my guru, I swear. I just…” Bitty’s eyes lingered on the building-block boxes. “I’d like to move on with my life someday, too. I’m really happy for you and Nate.”
“Thanks, Bitty. That means a lot.”
“I also came here to thank you.”
Nalla frowned. “For what?”
“L.W. told me what you did that night I went to Bathe. With those guys.”
“Assholes, I’m telling you.”
“And totally not my type, as it turns out. But thanks for watching out for me.”
“I always have your back. That’s what true friends are for.”
There was a long pause. And then Nalla blurted, “I miss you—”
“I really miss you—”
They both laughed, and the hugging was as natural as their friendship had always been, something that just happened. When they stepped back, there were sniffles, there were tears—and underneath the emotion, there was the sense that the world was back on track, that which had been out of sync now fully realigned.
Funny, how a person could be your sister even if you two weren’t related—
“Are you guys ready?” As Bella appeared in the doorway, her smile was easy, and she leaned against the jamb and shook her head. “Wow. This is the end of an era. And the start of a new one.”
“I’m just a phone call away.” Nalla’s throat grew tight again. “And I will always answer.”
The special smile that was sent her way was marked with watery eyes. “The same is true for us. Now come on, you don’t want to be late to your own farewell party, right?” Abruptly, things got serious. “Fritz has been cooking all day long, and if we don’t start eating soon, we’re going to be up to our elbows in leftovers. Although… I guess that’s not the worst thing that could happen.”
Nalla laughed and looked at Bitty. “You’re coming, right?”
The female grinned, her eyes crinkling at both corners. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
They laughed and started to talk fast again—but then Nalla glanced at her mahmen. Bella had stepped into the empty room and was making a slow turn.
Bitty lowered her voice. “I’ll meet you there, okay?”
“Yes, thanks.”
After the female left, Nalla walked forward and took her mahmen’s hand. “Don’t be sad. I really am only a phone call away, and Nate and I have family Last Meal on the calendar, every Sunday. We’ll see you all the time.”
Bella turned and smiled, even though her eyes were tearing up. “Oh, I’m not sad. This has all worked out better than I could have imagined. Right?”
“Well, Father no longer wants to murder the male I love,” Nalla said with a dry grin. “So yes, I have to agree.”
After they laughed, her mahmen reached up to touch her cheek. “If I’m somber, it’s because an era of my life has to end… in order for the rest of yours to begin. And it’s really wonderful because that’s how it’s supposed to work. Young move along and they move out and they make their own way, and if you’re lucky—and oh, sweetheart, we’re so lucky, we really are—when that time comes, they take you with them. Here.” Bella touched Nalla’s head. “And here.” She touched Nalla’s sternum. “It’s the immortality we get with the love, the family, and the traditions we pass on to the next generation.”
Nalla sniffled. “Oh, mahmen, I love you.”
“And I love you, my daughter. You’re everything I’d hoped for, and you and Nate are going to have a wonderful future together.” Bella took a bracing inhale. “Okay, let’s go. Let’s go to your party. Maybe if we’re lucky, your father will sing for us all.”
Linking arms, they stepped out of Nalla’s bedroom together.
“He’s gonna pick a song that makes everybody cry,” Nalla muttered. “He always does that.”
“Fritz will make sure there’s Kleenex. That doggen always comes prepared.”
* * *
Two hours later, Fritz Perlmutter was fretting over the buffet.
The gathering had proceeded most satisfactorily, with his master, the First Family, and the Black Dagger Brotherhood arriving at the prescribed time, along with the other fighters and members of the inner circle, who brought their mates and young as appropriate, the lot of them all filling out the circular room with a critical mass that guaranteed a convivial and cheerful atmosphere.
But verily, he wished they were all back in the mansion.
It was not that he objected to the simple, modern furnishings, although of course, one wished to provide a bit of splash to things, and CorningWare was not Royal Crown Derby.
The problem was that the guests stayed within the confines of the room. For the entire duration.
Back up at the mansion, following the dessert course, all and sundry would proceed into the billiards room. That vast expanse of green felt tables, leather sofas, and the TV—which Fritz really didn’t approve of, honestly, as the flashing lights of it were garish and the content was mostly absurd, especially when the sire Lassiter had upon his palm the remote—as well as the serve-yourself bar—of which he also did not really approve, but one needed to bear up—provided not only the square footage but also the amusements, for the household and guests to be well occupied.
Such that the food could be cleared before it wilted, the plates, sterling, and glassware cleaned, and the staff then freed up to attend to other duties.
Here? The guests all stayed put.
Casting his eyes across the males and females, he caught the worried gaze of his two best maids. They had leaned around the doorway into the commercial kitchen that was off to the left. All he could do was shake his head: Not yet.
Their stares flared with the same kind of worry that consumed his own heart, but there was naught to do. As much as he hated inefficiency, he had no choice, for the only thing more intolerable than a decaying buffet was servers clearing platters and punch bowls through a party.
He needed to wait.
Tugging his jacket sleeves down, he clasped his hands behind his back and regarded his master’s guests.
It would have been difficult for him to determine exactly when he began to notice their faces, but soon he did. The younger generation had cloistered together around the couple of the hour, Nalla and Nate, whose collective radiance was like a hearth that moved about the gathering, pausing to warm all whom they sought out.
’Twas lovely to see them so in love, not only for their sakes, but because surely this meant that there would soon be cause for a proper mating ceremony, something that they had not had for ages. If he was lucky, the King would order him to open the big house upon the mountain once again, and that would require weeks and weeks of cleaning and preparation before one even considered the necessaries of the occasion itself.
’Lo, he was atwitter just upon the contemplation of such efforts. And as he thought about such happy future endeavors, he searched out his master—and there Wrath was, with his dog at his side and his shellan under his arm.
For a moment, Fritz found himself, once again, back at the door he had opened that had changed everything, the one that had ruined decades.
Though the outcome of it all had been a miracle, the blame was still with him. And it would stay with him. For thirty years, there had been no matings, because of him. No en masse celebrations of the calendar or festival observances. No true happiness or joy. Just a funeral in the Tomb, where those who should not have been in such a sacred place had been welcomed by the Brotherhood because they had all lost their—
Wrath’s head turned sharply, those black wraparound sunglasses pointing in Fritz’s direction.
As if the great Blind King could read into his loyal servant’s mind and see the torment that had bubbled to the fore.
That regal head shook back and forth—sternly—a command that was nonverbal, but that nonetheless traveled through the laughter and the conversation, through the bodies as they moved through the space… through the time that had been lost.
Fritz took a deep breath. And let it go.
For who was he to disregard an order from his beloved master?
Just as he released the exhale, the subtle chords of a guitar started to emanate throughout the room, and people, drawn to the sound, quieted and turned to the source.
Zsadist had sat down in a chair, and was strumming an instrument that was the color of honey, his skull-trimmed head bowed, his dagger hand plucking the strings.
And then he started singing, “Would you know my name…”
Oh, that voice. Like that of an angel, and the words that were sung, set to that simple melody, wove their way through the crowd… and brought the doggen out from the back, Fritz’s staff in their uniforms lining themselves up.
“… time can break your heart…”
And though Fritz attempted to remain professional, he was seduced into the moment as well, and he looked at them all with great warmth and affection. From the original Brothers whom he had served for so long, to his Queen, whom he had watched over when her father could not, and her human friend, Butch, whom he’d been sure would end up bloodying the carpet… to Bella and John Matthew and Xhex, Rehvenge and Ehlena… to Qhuinn and Blaylock, Payne and Dr. Manello, Saxton and Ruhn, and the whole of the Band of Bastards—and all of the others who had come unto the group, funneling into the household through destiny’s hand, congregating here out of common purpose and loyalty, living their lives, together.
It was such a privilege to serve them all, and as he regarded them, he thought, too, of the ones they had lost along the way.
“… no more tears… in heaven…”
The human words touched him and he prayed they were true. He needed to believe that the afterlife was just like this party the now.
All of them together.
For an eternity.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With so many thanks to the readers of the Black Dagger Brotherhood books! This has been a long, marvelous, exciting journey, and I can’t wait to see what happens next in this world we all love. I’d also like to thank Meg Ruley, Rebecca Scherer and everyone at JRA, and Hannah Braaten, Jamie Selzer, Sarah Schlick, Jennifer Bergstrom, Carrie Feron, Jennifer Long, and the entire family at Gallery Books and Simon & Schuster.
To Team Waud, I love you all. Truly. And as always, everything I do is with love to and adoration for both my family of origin and of adoption.
Oh, and thank you to Naamah, my Writer Dog II, and Obie, Writer Dog-in-Training, and Bar-bar, all of whom work as hard as I do on my books!
More from this Series
Darius
The Savior
Book 17
The Sinner
Book 18
Lover Unveiled
Book 19
Lover Arisen
Book 20
Lassiter
Book 21
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J. R. WARD is the author of more than sixty novels, including those in her #1 New York Times bestselling Black Dagger Brotherhood series. There are more than twenty million copies of her novels in print worldwide, and they have been published in twenty-seven different countries. She lives in the south with her family.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR:
SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/J-R-Ward
SimonandSchuster.com
@GalleryBooks
By J. R. Ward
THE BLACK DAGGER BROTHERHOOD SERIES
Dark Lover
Lover Eternal
Lover Awakened
Lover Revealed
Lover Unbound
Lover Enshrined
The Black Dagger Brotherhood:
An Insider’s Guide
Lover Avenged
Lover Mine
Lover Unleashed
Lover Reborn
Lover at Last
The King
The Shadows
The Beast
The Chosen
The Thief
The Savior
The Sinner
Lover Unveiled
Lover Arisen
Lassiter
Darius
The Beloved
THE BLACK DAGGER LEGACY SERIES
Blood Kiss
Blood Vow
Blood Fury
Blood Truth
THE BLACK DAGGER BROTHERHOOD: PRISON CAMP
The Jackal
The Wolf
The Viper
THE BLACK DAGGER BROTHERHOOD WORLD
Dearest Ivie
Prisoner of Night
Where Winter Finds You
A Warm Heart in Winter
THE LAIR OF THE WOLVEN
Claimed
Forever
Mine
FIREFIGHTERS SERIES
Consumed
NOVELS OF THE FALLEN ANGELS
Covet
Crave
Envy
Rapture
Possession
Immortal
THE BOURBON KINGS
The Bourbon Kings
The Angels’ Share
Devil’s Cut
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