Lover Awakened (Black Dagger Brotherhood #3)(69)

Z cursed, thinking of the way Bella had looked at him after he’d chewed up that slayer in front of her. Her eyes had been wide in her pale face, her mouth loose with shock at what he’d done.

The thing was, the Brotherhood’s business of protecting the race was a nasty one. It was messy and ugly and sometimes deranged. Always bloody. And on top of all that, she had seen the killing lust in him. Somehow, he was willing to bet that was what disturbed her the most.

Focus, dumb ass. Come on, get out of your head.

Z poked around some more, shifting under the Explorer. Finally he found what he was looking for: a little cave in the undercarriage. He shrugged out of his windbreaker, wrapped the phone up, and shoved the wad in the hole. He tested the jury-rig to make sure it was in there good and tight, then dematerialized out from under the SUV.

He knew the setup wasn’t going to last long under there, but it was so much better than nothing. And now Vishous would be able to track the Explorer from home, because that little silver-bullet Nokia had a GPS chip in it.

Z flashed over to the edge of the meadow so he could see the back of the farmhouse. He’d done an okay patch job on the busted kitchen door. Fortunately the frame of the thing had still been intact, so he’d been able to close it and reengage the alarm sensors. Then he’d found a plastic tarp in the garage and covered up the monster hole.

Fixed, but not really.

Funny…he didn’t think he’d be any more successful if he tried to rehab Bella’s opinion of him. But—goddamn it—he didn’t want to be a savage to her.

In the distance, two headlights turned off Route 22 and shined down the long private lane. The car slowed as it came up to Bella’s house, then pulled into her driveway.

Was that a Bentley? Z thought. Sure looked like it.

Man, an expensive car like that? Had to be a member of Bella’s family. No doubt they’d been notified that the security alarm had been off for a while and then been turned back on about ten minutes ago.

Shit. Now was not a good time for someone to do a look-see walk-through. Given Z’s luck, the lessers would pick right this moment to come back for their SUV—and decide to do a drive-by of the farmhouse for kicks and giggles.

Cursing under his breath, he waited for one of the Bentley’s doors to open…except no one got out of the car and the engine stayed idling. This was good. As long as the alarm was activated, maybe they wouldn’t think to go inside. Because the kitchen was a mess.

Z sniffed the cold air, but couldn’t catch a scent. Instinct told him, though, that it was a male inside the sedan. Her brother? Most likely. He’d be the one who’d check out the scene.

That’s right, buddy. Look at the front windows. See? Nothing’s wrong. No one’s in the house. Now do us both a favor and get the f*ck out of here.

The sedan stayed put for what seemed like five hours. Then it backed out, did a K-turn in the street, and took off.

Z grabbed a deep breath of air. Christ… His nerves were too tight tonight.

Time passed. As he stood alone among the pines, he stared at Bella’s house. And wondered if she’d be scared of him now.

The wind picked up, the cold getting rough with him and bleeding into his bones. With desperation, he embraced the pain that came with it.





Chapter Twenty-four


John stared across the desk in the study. Sarelle’s head was down as she leafed through one of the ancient books, her short blond hair hanging in her face so that her chin was all he could see. The two of them had spent hours making a list of incantations for the solstice festival. Meanwhile, Wellsie was in the kitchen, ordering supplies for the ceremony.

As Sarelle turned another page, he thought she had really pretty hands.

“Okay,” she said. “I think that’s the last one.”

Her eyes flashed up to his and it was like getting struck by lightning: a shock of heat and then a spacey disorientation. Plus he would have believed he glowed in the dark now, too.

She smiled and closed the book. Then there was a long silence. “So…um, I guess my friend Lash is in your training class.”

Lash was her friend? Oh, terrific.

“Yeah…and he says you have the mark of the Brotherhood on your chest.” When John didn’t respond, she said, “Do you?”

John shrugged and scribbled on the edge of the list he’d made.

“Can I see it?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. Like he wanted her to get a load of his scrawny chest? Or that birthmark that had proven to be such a pain in the ass?

“I don’t think you did it yourself, like they do,” she said quickly. “And, I mean, it’s not like I want to inspect it or something. I don’t even know what one is supposed to look like. I’m just curious.”

She moved her chair closer to his and he caught a whiff of the perfume she wore…or maybe it wasn’t perfume. Maybe it was just…her.

“Which side is it on?”

As if his hand belonged to her, he patted his left pectoral.

“Unbutton your shirt a little.” She leaned over to the side, her head angled so she could look at his chest. “John? Can I please see it?”

He glanced at the doorway. Wellsie was still talking on the phone in the kitchen, so she probably wasn’t going to come barging in or anything. But the study still seemed way public.