The Viper – Black Dagger Brotherhood – Prison Camp Read Online J.R. Ward

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
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And spun the wheel hard right.

At the very moment the vehicle shot off the road, he dematerialized out of the interior, sending himself off in a scatter, beelining for the hunting cabin. With every foot of distance he covered in the ether, his strength got sucked away by the arriving day—and he had a thought that he had waited until too late.

Except then he knew he was in the right place, his sense of direction undiminished by the sunlight.

Re-forming with momentum, he came back into his physical body in a run. As he barreled forward, racing in between the two bodies on the ground that were already smoking from the sun, he took a leap at the hunting cabin’s open door, going parallel to the ground with his arms outstretched. He meant to land in a roll, but he was too busy looking to the hearth, to the far corner.

She wasn’t there—

With a thunderous bang, he landed facedown, and there was no skidding because the floorboards were rough. Cursing, he didn’t care as the breath was kicked out of his lungs and one of his hips sang with pain.

Twisting on his side, he looked around.

Nadya was gone.

* * *

Back when that wolven had been driving away from the prison camp like a bat out of hell, Apex had had to dematerialize off the roof of that car. Strong as he was, he hadn’t been able to hold on anymore, and when the wind shear had peeled him free of the panels, he’d let himself go. For a moment, he’d just hung in midair, the rushing wind keeping him aloft, his eyes trained on the infinite sky above the earth.

Too bad that coast couldn’t last.

And the pursuing car full of guards was going to be the worst possible landing pad.

Closing his lids, he dematerialized just as he felt a bullet nick the side of his leg. The strike wasn’t enough to slow him down, but he didn’t have a destination.

So when he re-formed, it was… anywhere.

No, that was a lie. It was back at the fortified garage, the one the wolven had taken them to, where they’d gotten the stretchers for Kane and Mayhem, and more ammo and weapons.

Checking the exterior out for a second time, he found it such an unassuming structure, and he approved of the camouflage. And back when they’d be reconnoitering, before they’d headed up the mountain, the wolven had given them all the combination, so he let himself in.

Standing over the battered Monte Carlo, he replayed the escape as he breathed in the gas and oil fumes that still lingered, thick as if the car had just been driven. On a hunch, he bent down. Yup, something was leaking, like the vehicle had joined the injured ranks along with the rest of them.

With so many near-misses, they shouldn’t have made it out at all.

Where the hell was that wolven?

Not that he’d come here to wait for the male or anything.

As the skin on the back of his neck tingled in warning, he glanced out the milky glass of the window over the work bench. He was going to have to hunker down for the day and here was as good a place as any. He could only hope Kane and that female were okay wherever they were.

Looking around, he spaced for a second about how to get underground. Then he remembered the wolven going over to that bench and flipping something under the upper shelf—

“Thank fuck.”

As he repeated the male’s actions, a wooden toolbox nearly the size of a car left its seat and swung aside to reveal a set of stairs. There was no sound from its well-oiled hinges, no clue that it was anything other than it appeared. Lights went on when he began to descend into the darkness, and at the bottom, he was greeted by a sight that had stirred him the first time: Stacked against the smooth concrete walls, in boxes, bags, and various containers, there was an arsenal of weapons and ammunition. Dried food in drums. Water jugs. Flak jackets, winter coats, and snowshoes. Medical supplies.

It was all so well thought out, so organized, so useful, needed, and valuable.

The male who had assembled the collection of necessaries was a clear, practical thinker who wasn’t going to be taken unawares. He was prepared. Thorough. Defensive when he had to be, aggressive when it was warranted.

Looking away, because in a weird sense, Apex felt like he was ogling the wolven himself even though he was just checking out the stuff the guy had, he measured the shower and toilet, which were out in the open, and the two cots that were off to one side.

But the admiration came back. If he had designed a space for a bolt-hole, he couldn’t have done a better job.


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