Lover Awakened (Black Dagger Brotherhood #3)(22)

Patting her hand around, she found something covering her shoulders and pulled it closer. Leather. And it smelled…not at all like the cloying sweetness of a lesser. It was the scent of a male of her race. She took more breaths in through her nose. When she caught the baby-powder scent of the slayers, she was confused until she pressed her nose into the seat. Yes, in the upholstery. This was a lesser’s car. But then why was a male vampire’s sweat on what she was wearing? And there was something else, another smell…a dark musk with an evergreen spice.

Bella started to tremble. She remembered the scent well, remembered it from the first time she had gone to the Brotherhood’s training compound, remembered it from later, when she had been to their mansion.

Zsadist. Zsadist was in the car with her.

Her heart pounded. She struggled to open her eyes, but either her lids refused to obey or maybe they were already open and it was just too dark for her to see.

Am I rescued? she asked. Did you come for me, Zsadist?

Except no sound came out of her mouth, though she moved her lips. She formed the words again, forcing air through her voice box. A hoarse groan was released, nothing more.

Why weren’t her eyes working?

She started to thrash around and then heard the sweetest sound that had ever reached her ears.

“I got you, Bella.” Zsadist’s voice. Low. Full of strength. “You’re safe. You’re out of there. And you’re never going back.”

He had come for her. He had come for her….

She started to sob. The car seemed to slow, but then their speed redoubled.

Her relief was so great, she slid into blackness.





Zsadist kicked open the door to his room, busting the lock mechanism clean off. The crack of sound was loud, and Bella stirred in his arms, moaning. He froze as her head turned from side to side in the crook of his arm.

This was good, he thought. This was very good.

“Come on, Bella, come back to me. Wake up.” But she didn’t regain consciousness.

He went over to his pallet and laid her down where he slept. When he glanced up, Wrath and Phury were in his doorway, the two huge males blocking out most of the light from the hall.

“She needs to go to Havers’s,” Wrath said. “She needs to be treated.”

“Havers can do what he has to here. She’s not leaving this room.”

Z ignored the long silence that followed, totally caught up in watching Bella breathe. Her chest was going up and down in a regular pump, but it seemed so shallow.

Phury’s sigh was one he’d know anywhere. “Zsadist—”

“Forget it. He’ll see her here. And no one is touching her without my permission or my presence.” When he glared up at his brothers, Wrath and Phury seemed totally dumbfounded. “For chrissakes, you want me to say it in the Old Language in case you two forgot English? She goes nowhere.”

With a curse, Wrath flipped open his cell phone and spoke fast and hard.

When he closed the thing, he said, “Fritz is already in town, and he’s going to pick the doctor up. They’ll be here in twenty.”

Z nodded and looked at Bella’s eyelids. He wished he could be the one to take care of what had been done to them. He wanted her to be relieved now. Oh, God… How she must have suffered.

He became aware that Phury had come over, and he didn’t like it as the brother knelt down. Z’s instinct was to barricade Bella’s body with his own, preventing his twin, Wrath, the doctor, any male from seeing her. He didn’t understand the impulse, didn’t know its origin, but it was so strong he nearly launched himself at Phury’s neck.

And then his twin reached out his hand as if to touch her ankle. Z’s lips peeled off his fangs, a growl launching out of his mouth.

Phury’s head snapped up. “Why are you acting like this?”

She’s mine, Z thought.

Except the instant the conviction came to him, he pushed it aside. What the f*ck was he doing?

“She’s hurt,” he muttered. “Just don’t mess with her, okay?”

Havers arrived fifteen minutes later. The tall, thin doctor had a black leather suitcase in his hand and looked like he was ready to do his business. But as he came forward, Z sprang up and intercepted the male into the wall. Havers’s pale eyes popped wide behind his tortoiseshell glasses, and his case clattered to the floor.

Wrath cursed. “Jesus Christ—”

Z ignored the hands trying to pull him off and pegged the doctor with a glare. “You treat her better than you would your own blood. She suffers one unnecessary flinch and I will take it out of your hide a hundred times over.”

Havers’s slender body trembled, his mouth working silently.

Phury gave a good pull and got nowhere. “Z, go easy—”

“Stay out of this,” he snapped. “We clear, Doctor?”

“Yes…yes, sire.” When Z released him, Havers coughed and pulled at his bow tie. Then frowned. “Sire…? You bleed. Your leg—”

“You don’t worry about me. You worry about her. Now.”

The male nodded, fumbled with his suitcase, and went over to the pallet. As he got down on his knees beside Bella, Z willed lights on in the room.

Havers’s harsh inhalation was probably as close to a curse as the refined male could get. Under his breath he murmured in the Old Language, “To do this to a female…merciful Fade.”