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Lover Released	By : Hoping4More Category: A through F > Black Dagger Brotherhood Views: 3573 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Black Dagger Brotherhood, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 31
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Tru tensed his fingers on the steering wheel of his truck as the familiar scene of his childhood home came into view through the windshield. The driveway seemed longer than usual—the gravity of what he had to do making each inch feel like a mile as he drove slowly over the paved surface. Likewise, the trees bordering the property appeared taller, like silent sentries casting long shadows across the moonlit ground. He swallowed back the sick feeling in his stomach as he pulled the truck to a stop in front of the main entrance. Once he killed the engine all he could hear was the pounding of his heart in his ears like a war drum.
“You don’t have to do this Tru,” Tara said from the passenger seat, breaking the tense silence. Her steady voice, was accompanied by a wave of calm that enveloped him.
“Yes I do,” he replied, turning to face her.
He knew she meant well, but her sympathy wasn’t warranted. Everyone seemed to think that turning his sire over to be interrogated—and likely killed—would be this horrible feat for Tru, but it was disconcertingly easy. Truthfully, he was more concerned about his lack of emotion over the whole thing, than completing the mission. Was there something wrong with him—that he held no sense of compassion or pity for his own sire? Was he going to wake up one morning, days or years later, with a crushing guilt or endless regret? All he could think, while he sat outside of Bharron’s house awaiting the signal to infiltrate, was that the bastard deserved to be brought down.
Growing up in that house, Bharron had always acted as more of an abusive warden, lording it over a prison, than a loving sire raising and caring for his family. Tru could view his own scars and bruises as life lessons and things that made him stronger, but he remembered all too well the black and blue marks on his mahmen’s skin, and the swelling around Kaelyn’s eye after she had refused to mate the male Bharron had picked out for her.
“I’m going to start listening now, so if there’s anything you don’t want me to hear you should think of kittens or something,” Tara said with a forced smile.
“I don’t have anything to hide from you, princess.” Tru reached out and took her smaller hand in his own, drawing strength from the understanding in her eyes.
As challenging as it could be having a mate who could read him like an open book, Tru had come to cherish her gifts. He knew Tara understood exactly how he was feeling without having to stumble over the right words to explain himself.
“I could kill him for ever laying a hand on you,” Tara said, the intensity of her gaze hardening her beautiful face.
“I think you’ll have to get in line for that one,” Tru quipped, running his thumb over the back of her hand.
The familiar heat that stirred to life every time he touched her was simmering just under the surface of his skin, but thanks to Tara, he knew how to restrain the compulsions that came with it. They both needed to keep their heads in the game if Bharron was as dangerous as Tru feared he was.
“Okay, the other’s are here,” Tara said, closing her eyes and furrowing her brow.
“What is it?” Tru asked, looking around them for any signs of a threat.
“Your mahmen is home.”
“We knew that was a possibility coming in here, just stick to the plan and everything will be fine.”
Tara could use her powers of persuasion to convince Lydia that she needed to run errands or visit a friend while Tru talked business with his sire.
“It’s not that. I could be wrong but it feels like he’s…like Bharron is with Saysha in another room.”
“Fucking?” Tru prompted, already knowing the answer.
“Yes…” she paused, shaking her head slowly. “With your mahmen home? That’s revolting.”
“Sorry, I should have warned you.”
“Not the first time I’m guessing?”
Tru shook his head and let his silence speak for him. His sire was always having closed-door meetings with females when Tru was growing up. It wasn’t until he was much older that Tru realized what went on in Bharron’s office.
“We should go in now—while he’s distracted,” Tru suggested, unfastening his seatbelt.
Tara closed her eyes again and stayed quiet for a moment as she communicated with her sire. Her forehead twitched slightly and her eyes moved behind her lids as words passed silently between them. Such an amazing gift she had. The Brotherhood would be much stronger with her in their ranks. His own future with them was still uncertain, but they would be stupid not to accept her.
“We’re good to go,” she said, breaking into his thoughts.
Adrenaline shot through his veins like a live wire, energizing his body and sharpening his senses. He had to contain himself as he walked around the front of the car and opened Tara’s door for her. They had to get inside without Bharron getting suspicious if they were going to get Lydia out of there before the shit hit the fan. It wasn’t beyond his sire to use Lydia as a hostage. Tara’s fingers entwined with his as they walked up the few steps to the front entrance. He took a calming breath and rung the door bell, the sound piercing the erie silence that surrounded them.
His heartbeat seemed to grow louder and faster as the seconds ticked by. The door swung to the side to reveal a pleasantly surprised Lydia. She was surprised to see them; Tru could tell that much by her expression, but she was poised and polished as usual—a true beauty that Bharron didn’t deserve.
“Intrudehr! Tehrrify! It’s so lovely to see you both. What a wonderful surprise,” Lydia said with a radiant smile. She began to open her arms for a hug, but caught herself, dropping them to her sides.
Tru felt a sickening in his stomach for the rift he had torn in his relationship with his mahmen. He knew that now was not the time, but one day soon he was going to make it up to her. He only hoped that she would forgive him for what he was about to do. He stepped forward and brought her into a tight embrace, dwarfing her petite frame within the cage of his arms. He felt as well as heard her sigh of relief.
Tru stepped back and Lydia clasped both of Tara’s hands in greeting, gushing over how elegant she looked in the knee-length A-line dress she was wearing. Tru had to agree that Tara looked stunning in the little black number that Ty had custom made for her. What made it even hotter was knowing that hidden in the boning of the fitted bullet-proof bodice were several stiletto blades, and that under the flowing skirt there was a Beretta 92G Elite XXI strapped to her thigh.
Tara wasted no time, quickly explaining their impromptu visit as a hopeful search for her mahmen’s lost bracelet she had been wearing the last time they were at the house. Lydia bought the lie and stepped aside to invite them in. Tru took out his cellphone and prayed to the Scribe Virgin that his sister had her phone on her. He sent out his hail Mary as Tara and Lydia looked under the cushions in the sitting room.
I NEED YOUR HELP. NO QUESTIONS ASKED? TELL MAHMEN YOU NEED HER TO COME OVER RIGHT AWAY.
He held his breath, waiting for her reply. A moment later his screen lit up.
DONE.
And that was one of the many reasons he loved his sister. She always had his back, just as she knew he would always have hers. Tru didn’t know what her reaction was going to be to his betrayal of their sire, but he hoped she would understand—the Virgin knew she had her own reasons to hate the bastard. His thoughts were interrupted by his mahmen’s phone ringing. She glanced at the display and answered it immediately. He watched her face carefully as she struggled with her need to help her daughter and the compulsion to stay with him and Tara. Tru nodded at Tara for her to work her magic.
If you didn’t know what to look for you wouldn’t have any clue that Tara was doing anything but looking around the room for her bracelet, but Tru could see the slight stiffness in her movements and the way her eyes dilated as they focused on things he could not see. Lydia tucked away her phone and turned to Tru, guilt written on her features.
“Kalyn needs you?” Tru prompted.
“I don’t have to go right away,” she replied, anxiously ringing her hands.
“Of course you do. Don’t worry mahmen we will come back for dinner later this week and look around then.” Tru rested his hand on the small of her back and began to subtly lead her toward the opposite end of the house, where she could access the garage. Her shoulders relaxed and her pace picked up—no doubt thanks to Tara channelling eagerness and resolve into the female.
They had her tucked into the back of her silver Rolls-Royce Ghost—one of her doggen appearing immediately to chauffeur the elegant sedan—and driving down the driveway within a minute. Tru took a relieved breath as her taillights disappeared from view. He turned abruptly and pulled Tara in for a scorching kiss. The air around them crackled as he ran his hand down her back; the cool material like soft snake skin beneath his eager hands. He pulled back before his super-charged libido could wreak havoc on them both. Tara’s kiss swollen lips curved up slowly into a sultry smile, made all the more tempting by the fire in her eyes.
“You are going to finish that later,” she purred, arching a perfect brow in challenge.
“Multiple times,” he retorted, giving her ass a light tap as he passed her on the way back into the house.
They left both the garage door and the interior door open for the Brothers to use as their infiltration point. Tru cracked his neck to release some of the tension that was building the closer he got to the wing of the house that housed his sire’s office and private sitting room. Tara’s heels clicked rhythmically on the hardwood floors like the ticking of a clock as they passed through the silk wallpapered hallways. When they finally reached the mahogany clad sound-proof door to Bharron’s office, it was left slightly ajar, letting out some of the noises they were making on the other side. This office was also Bharron’s safe room and if that door was left open, Tru knew it was intentional. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to throw open the door and beat the living shit out of his sire. Righteous anger for his mahmen, for Kaelyn, hell even for his own defenceless pre-trans self had him re-thinking the whole stealth approach. Tara’s hand landing on his shoulder calmed him immediately.
“Stick to the plan Tru,” she whispered. “We need answers before blood, and you said yourself that we won’t get in that room by force.”
Tru nodded and brought his fist up to the door, knocking with three decisive raps of his knuckles against the hard wood. There was a long silence before the door was thrown aside.
“This had better be…” Bharron cut himself off the moment he saw Tru.
The older male looked the part of the cut-throat business mogul as he dominated the doorway in a three-piece grey suit the colour of his eyes and a cold glare that used to make the hairs on Tru’s arms stand on end. If Tru didn’t know better, he never would have guessed that he had just been fucking his assistant. She on the other hand had not recovered so quickly. Her blonde hair was mussed, her lipstick smeared, and she was still adjusting the skirt of her fitted red business suit when she caught sight of Tru. The panic in her eyes shifted immediately to a heated invitation. He had to look away as bile rose in his throat. He couldn’t believe he had ever let her lay a hand on him. Saysha was a beautiful female, but next to Tara, all he could see was the ugliness that rested beneath her skin.
“Intrudehr,” Bharron said in a controlled voice—giving nothing away as to how he felt about the prodigal son showing up twice in one week. He glanced casually over Tara’s body, the way Tru would check out another male’s ride. Tru’s bonding scent began to permeate the air around them, causing Bharron to focus once again on his son.
“Bharron,” Tru replied, subtly stepping in front of Tara. “We need to discuss something with you.”
Bharron raised one brow and stared into Tru’s eyes, no doubt trying to get a read on him. Tru held his ground, a neutral expression on his face. Bharron’s scrutiny shifted to Tara who would give him more than he was expecting for sure.
The older male stepped to the side, allowing them entrance into his office and personal sanctuary. As soon as they crossed the threshold Tara was supposed to send word to her sire. As her heels silenced on the carpet of the room Tru took a steadying breath. Show time.
Tara reached out to Thrett with her mind and gave him the green light to move in. Her heart was beating a mile a minute as she cased the room. There were no windows, typical of a vampire safe room, but everything else about the space seemed better suited for the top floor of a New York skyscraper than in the heart of an old money mansion. The room was much larger than she had expected, with four distinct areas dividing it up. A large chrome and glass desk dominated the space from the far corner, with a high-back leather office chair sitting vacant across from two conference chairs—clearly Bharron’s throne of sorts. There was a granite bar lined with chrome bar stools facing a wall stocked with every type of alcohol Tara could think of immediately to her left, and a black leather three-piece sitting area that had clearly just been used for Bharron’s not so professional activities to her right. Everything was done up in shades of black and grey save for a bright red area rug that grounded the seating area. Opposite the desk was a floor to ceiling fireplace in grey and white stone, with two black wing-back chairs facing the open flames.
There were no other exits that she could see—unless one of the walls hid a secret door that Tru didn’t know about—so getting entrance through the main door had indeed been their only option. The Brothers would be bearing down on them any minute and it was their job to make sure that door stayed open. Tara brought her attention back to the odd couple in front of her, and the hackles rose on the back of her neck at the look Saysha was giving Tru. The female’s lust was a burning stench in her nose. Tara’s mind was suddenly clouded with one thought; Mine.
“Saysha, you don’t need to be here,” Tru said bluntly, staring down the petite female in obvious disdain.
Tara smiled at the rejection and reminded herself that she had to be careful with her shields down. Who knew what she had been projecting. Saysha bristled and straightened her spine, tilting her chin up slightly before speaking.
“That’s for your sire to decide, Intrudehr.”
Bharron looked the three of them over and smiled slightly before strolling over to the large desk and taking a seat behind it.
“If this is about business, she stays,” he said nonchalantly, motioning to the conference chairs that faced him on the other side of the desk. “You’re here instead of in the sitting room, so I can only assume it is.”
He moved his fingers deftly over the glass surface, opening and closing windows while he simultaneously watched to see how Tru would respond.
Tara personally didn’t care if the bitch became collateral damage, but if there was any possibility of her compromising their mission, she had to be removed. Tara slipped into Saysha’s mind all too easily and planted a simple idea that would distract her, albeit only temporarily.
“On second thought, I will step out for a minute to use the washroom. If you don’t mind sir?” Saysha asked hesitantly, as if she really did need to ask his permission to pee.
Tara looked again at Bharron, who seemed truly irritated by the request. He waved her off with a dismissive motion as Tara and Tru sat in the chairs he had offered them. The control he had over Saysha was really creepy. Tara felt almost bad for her…almost. It didn’t stop her from slipping into her mind again to make sure that she left the door open on her way out.
“Where is your mahmen?” Bharron asked, sitting back in his chair to cross his arms over his large chest.
“She had to go help Kay with something,” Tru answered with a shrug.
“So, what is it that you want from me Intrudehr?”
“I want for you to own up to what you’ve been doing. It would make it a whole lot easier on all of us,” Tru said casually, matching his sire’s stance.
Tara focused on Bharron and tested his natural mental defences. Some people, especially warriors, seemed to build their own protective shields in their minds without knowing they needed them. Most likely from years of practice controlling their thoughts and focusing their minds. Bharron was no exception, and Tara didn’t want to force her way in and risk exposing herself and her talents. Her sire’s gift was well known and as a former WIT Bharron would no doubt have found his own defences against such a weapon—though she doubted his best attempt could thwart her if she really wanted in, which she did. Still, the longer her gift was a secret, the better. Tara cultivated a sense of calm in her mind and channeled it toward the older male. A weak spot formed and she slipped in.
“I know how much you hate the Brotherhood,” Tru continued. “The question is, how much?”
“And you’re an us now?” Bharron questioned, indignantly.
Tara heard more than his tone, she followed his thoughts as they jumped from annoyance, to fear at being discovered, to suspicion over their real purpose for being in his office. He even briefly thought of whether he could flip Tru over to his side and use him as a double agent. Tara was shaken a little at the thought. She had never even considered the possibility of Tru siding with his sire.
“Yes, and is that going to be a problem for you?” Tru asked.
Tara felt Tru’s resolve and the sense of unease lifted from her. He was almost as dedicated to the Brotherhood as he was to her.
“Be mindful of your allies Intrudehr. Times are changing and you don’t want to end up on the losing side of the battle.”
Bharron gave a self-satisfied grin and did exactly what Tara had been waiting for; he compared the Brotherhood to his own supporters in his mind. He was cataloguing those that would stand with him to reassure himself of his strength—giving Tara a mental list of the resistance, and the evidence she needed to signal his arrest.
“You’ve been out of the game a long time Bharron,” Tara said calmly getting to her feet, with the Beretta now in her right hand pointed squarely at his chest. “You have no idea what we are capable of.”
Tru rose quickly from his seat and rounded the desk, pulling a pair of handcuffs from his waistband at the small of his back. He seemed to take pleasure in forcing Bharron’s hands behind his back and into the metal restraints.
“You would betray your own bloodline?!” Bharron shouted, fighting against Tru’s hold.
Tru had him face down on the floor within seconds; his knee pressed firmly into his spine and his large hands rendering Bharron immobile. Tara couldn’t help her smile as she watched such an obvious show of Tru’s strength. His muscled forearms flexed with each attempt at escape, but Bharron didn’t get an inch.
Thrett burst into the room, followed by Huhnter, Stehlth, and four males that Tara assumed were the Brothers sent by the king. Huhnter had a bloody lip and one of the other Brothers was limping slightly, but they seemed otherwise unharmed.
“Sorry for the delay,” Thrett said. “The guards patrolling the perimeter called in backup.”
“Not a problem. As you can see we have things under control here,” Tara said, motioning to the males on the floor.
“Did you get Saysha?” she asked Thrett.
“Yes, Tyrahnt has her in the other room,” he answered.
“Good, she’ll need to be brought in for questioning too,” Tara explained.
She had gotten mostly thoughts of the sexual variety from the female since meeting her, but Tara had gotten glimpses that spoke to a deeper involvement with the rebellion.
As the Brothers took Bharron into custody and Tru rounded the desk toward her, Tara relaxed and had a moment of thinking that things had gone surprisingly well, before something fisted in her gut and had her curling in on herself. Tru was speaking to her, asking what was wrong, but she couldn’t focus on him. The blood in her veins seemed to tremble—an echo of a pain not her own. Dhayne…
“Oh sweet Virgin, no!” she exclaimed.
Another searing pain trembled through her and she collapsed to her knees. Mel. She reached out through the connection of her blood and found them both in excruciating pain. Something was horribly wrong. Suddenly the images of her gruesome dream flashed before her eyes, and she was running blindly out of the office toward the nearest exit. She barely registered the distant voices of Tru and Thrett pursuing her as her heals clacked swiftly over the tiled foyer and out onto the gravel driveway. The moment the night air caressed her skin she focused on the draw of her blood and released her corporal form, throwing herself toward the siren of their pain.
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