The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood #12)(44)
Author: J.R. Ward

“Interesting. I didn’t think you were that naive.” The male had to duck to make it inside. “And isn’t this your brother’s, too?”

Christ, all iAm could think of was the Grim Reaper.

Then again, s’Ex, as the Shadow queen’s enforcer, had killed enough things to fill a graveyard or two. And he was built for bringing death. The male was seven feet tall and over three hundred pounds—easy. And that voice, coming from under the hooding? Pure evil.

“So I heard you never let AnsLai in,” he said as he closed the slider. “I’m touched.”

“Don’t be. Actually, the high priest thought this place was too contaminated by our contact with humans. Coffee?”

“Like this is a date?” As opposed to the high priest, s’Ex didn’t have any patience for the rules of court or the formality observed between members of the s’Hisbe. Then again, the supreme ruler didn’t keep him by her side for his charm. “And yeah, why not. I like the idea of you waiting on me.”

iAm ground his molars, but he wasn’t going to get pissy. The s’Hisbe had raised the stakes about a thousand miles by sending this guy instead of the high priest, so things were already starting off on a bad foot.

Going around the granite counter, he took two mugs down from the glass-front cupboard and hoped the bastard didn’t want milk in his. As he waited while the coffeemaker burbled and hissed to the end of its cycle, the last thing he expected was for s’Ex to come over and sit down on a stool—normally the enforcer would have cased the place.

Unfortunately, this probably meant he already had.

“So you and your brother been busy lately.” s’Ex put his massive forearms on the counter and leaned into them. “Well, have you?”

“You mind taking that dress off.” iAm stared right into the mesh that covered that face. “I want to see your eyes.”

“How romantic.”

“Not even close.”

“You know, you haven’t got a leg to stand on when it comes to demands.”

“You hate wearing that goddamn hood. Don’t front.”

“Unlike some people, duty doesn’t chafe my ass.”

“Bullshit.”

The short pause told him he’d gotten through on some level. But that didn’t last. “Coffee’s finished. Bring me mine, would you.”

iAm turned away so that his tight jaw wasn’t on display. “Sugar?”

“I’m sweet enough as it is.”

Yeah. Right.

iAm brought over both mugs. “If you want a straw for this, you’re SOL. Sorry.”

s’Ex revealed himself with a quick, no-fuss jerk of the headdress—in spite of the fact that that thing must have weighed thirty pounds.

And yup, underneath was exactly what iAm remembered. Dark, dark skin. Cunning black eyes. Head with the ceremonial shaving patterns. White tattoos down the throat that continued around every square inch of his flesh.

And P.S., those tats were not made by ink. It was poison, injected into the skin in a pattern such that when the dermis died, it “discolored.” Most males, to prove their masculinity, had a small one on their arm—and were sick for days. Nobody, but nobody had the likes of what s’Ex did.

The bastard was a monster. Especially as he smiled—for some reason, probably the testosterone overload, his fangs were always fully descended.

“Happy now?” he drawled.

“Not the word I would use.” iAm took a draw off the rim of his mug. “So to what do I owe this honor.”

Or kick in the nuts, as was the case.

s’Ex smiled a little—which was worse than his full-on grin. “So you and your brother have been busy.”

“You already said that.”

“I’ve paid you a couple of visits here. Nothing special—just a flyby or two. The pair of you haven’t been hanging here lately. Busy with the females?”

“Working.”

“Night and day, then. Wow … worried about money? Do you need a loan?”

“Not from you. I can’t afford the vig.”

“Too right.” Black eyes narrowed on his own. “So where are you.”

“Around. Here now, obviously.”

“I don’t think you live here anymore.”

“Then why are you sitting on something I own.”

“I’ll bet if I go in your room, the closet’s empty.”

“And I assume breaking and entering is part of your ‘flybys’—unless you’ve changed your style.”

s’Ex eased back and crossed his arms under his robes. “Now how rude would I be if I did something like get in here and sniff around. It would be unthinkable.”

“You’re saying you haven’t done that.” iAm rolled his eyes. “Really.”

“No. Or I could be lying. Kind of like you are about living here anymore.”

“Maybe you’ve just come while we’ve been out.”

“Okay, let’s look at tonight. Why are you in your coat? Why are the spoons on the counter clean? Oh, and that magazine? Last month’s. And yet it’s been open like you’ve been ‘reading’ it.” He even did the air quotes. “And one, already-opened bag of chips does not a full pantry make.”

Goddamn it. “Isn’t GQ contraband in the Territory?”

s’Ex smiled again. “Her Royal Highness likes to keep me happy. What can I say.”

Either that or the queen herself was scared of the guy.

iAm lowered his lids to half-mast. “Talk to me.”

“I thought I was. Or were we using sign language and I missed it?”

Except the enforcer got serious, frowning into his mug, going still.

And the longer the silence lasted, the stranger things got. s’Ex didn’t waste time, and he had no patience—ordinarily, the f**ker was as decisive as a chain saw.

iAm waited things out for two reasons: One, what other choice did he have. And two, he was used to that by now.

Thanks to Trez’s shit, he’d had a master class in nothing-I-can-do.

s’Ex’s eyes shifted back over. “The high priest is coming to tell you that Trez’s time is up. The queen wants what she’s been promised and the daughter is ready to receive him. Any delay from this point on is going to have measurable repercussions. So, no lie, if you’ve got any way of making your brother toe the line, do it. Now.”

“She’s going to get you to kill him, isn’t she,” iAm said grimly.