Read Lover Eternal: A Novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood Online
Authors: J. R. Ward
Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction - Romance, #Vampires, #Suspense, #Man-woman relationships, #Romance: Gothic, #Romance - Fantasy, #Love stories, #Fantasy fiction, #Romance - Suspense, #Electronic books
But before he could apologize, she said, "I'm talking about the woman you took to bed last night. I… I waited for you. I wanted to tell you I was sorry… I saw you go into your room with her. Look, I didn't bring this up to guilt you or something."
He shook his head, his voice going flat. He was so tired of explaining himself to her, but he did it out of reflex. "That was the Directrix of the Chosen. We were talking about my feeding, Mary. I wasn't having sex with her."
He stood up. And made damn sure his voice was as tough as she was when he spoke. 'That alarm system in your house will be wired to us. If it gets triggered, I'll"—he corrected himself—"one of us will come running. Vishous will contact you here when it's up and rolling."
Instead he stopped dead in his tracks. Ahead, the moon was rising just above the tree line, and it was full, a fat, luminescent disk in the cold, cloudless night. He extended his arm toward it and squeezed one eye shut. Angling his line of sight, he positioned the lunar glow in the cradle of his palm and held the apparition with care.
The front door flew open, and Mary shot out of the house, jumping off the porch, not even bothering with the steps to the ground. She ran over the frost-laden grass in her bare feet and threw herself at him, grabbing on to his neck with both arms. She held him so tightly his spine cracked.
O lifted the mesh cover off the sewer pipe and shined a flashlight down into the hole. The young male inside was the one they'd caught the night before with the truck. The thing was alive, having survived the day. The storage facility had worked beautifully.
"Not right now, you don't. I want you to visit these members." Mr. X handed over a piece of paper with seven addresses on it. "E-mail check-ins are efficient, but proving somewhat unreliable. I'm getting confirmations from these Betas, but when I talk to their squadrons, I hear reports that no one has seen them in days or longer."
"So this is home now," Mary murmured when Rhage shut the door to their bedroom. She felt his arms come around her waist, and he pulled her back against his body. As she glanced at the clock, she realized they'd left Bella's only an hour and a half ago, but her whole life had changed.
The three boxes lined up against the wall were full of her clothes, her favorite books, some DVDs, a few photos. With Vishous, Butch, and Fritz showing up to help her, it hadn't taken long to pack up some things, get them into V's Escalade, and be driven back to the mansion. Later she and Rhage would return to finish the job. And in the morning she was going to call the law office and quit. She was also getting a real estate agent to sell the barn.
While she stretched out, he took off his trench coat and removed his dagger holster and his gun belt. He eased down next to her, creating a dip in the mattress that sucked her right against him. All the lamps went out at once, the room plunging into ink.
She was on the verge of falling asleep when he said, "Mary, about the arrangements for me to feed. While we were at your house, I called on the Chosen. Now that you're back with me, I'll need to use them."
"If I don't, ah, if I can't handle it—" "I won't force you to watch. It's just… there's an unavoidable intimacy to it, and I think you and I will both be more comfortable if you were there. That way you know ex-actly what's involved. There's nothing hidden or shady about it.""
John checked his watch. Tohrment was coming for him in five minutes, so it was time to head downstairs. He grabbed his suitcase with both hands and headed for the door. He prayed he wouldn't meet the pale man on the way or while he waited, but he wanted to meet Tohrment outside. It felt more equal, somehow.
When he got out to the curb, he looked up at the two windows he'd stared out of for so many hours. He was leaving the mattress and the barbell set behind, as well as his security deposit and last month's rent for breaking his lease. He was going to have to pop back inside for his bike after Tohrment came, but other than that, he was free of the place.
As the Harley growled by, he looked across the street at the Suicide Prevention Hotline's offices. Mary had missed her Friday- and Saturday-night shifts as well, and he truly hoped she was just taking a vacation. As soon as he was settled, he would go see her again and make sure she was okay.
It had been so easy to pull out of his pathetic existence. No one at Moe's cared that he was leaving without notice because busboys were a dime a dozen. And it went without saying that nobody in his building would miss him. Likewise, his address book was clean as a whistle, no friends, no family to call.
Actually, he didn't even have an address book. And how lame was that? John glanced down at himself, thinking how pitiful he must look. His sneakers were so dirty, the white parts had turned gray. His clothes were clean, but the jeans were two years old, and the button-down shirt, the best one he had, looked like a Goodwill reject. He didn't even have a jacket because his parka had been stolen last week from Moe's and he was going to have to save up before he could buy another one.
Headlights swung quickly around the corner off Trade Street and then flashed upward, as if the car's driver were stomping on the accelerator. Which was not good. In this neighborhood, anyone barrel-assing along was usually running from the cops or something worse.