Lover Mine (Black Dagger Brotherhood #8)(157)

The breath Xhex hadn't been aware of holding slowly eased out of her

lungs, a singing relief elevating her mood sure as if her heart had been put on a rocket to the moon. And Doc Jane had been right about staying. As soon as Xhex got involved listening and seeing and learning, the panic receded until it was just a quiet hum that she could control. And it was fascinating, the way the body was put together.

Okay? John mouthed.

"Yup, Doc Jane got the bullet out just fine--"

John shook his head. You? Okay?

God . . . damn, she thought. He was such a male of worth.

"Yeah," she said roughly. "Yeah, I am . . . and thanks for asking."

Staring down at him, she realized that she hadn't allowed herself to

think too much about how she'd saved his life.

Man, she'd always known she was good with a blade. But she'd never

thought that skill would matter as much as it had during that split second in that nasty-ass farmhouse.

A blink of an eye later and . . . no John. For anyone, anymore.

Ever.

The mere thought of that made her panic come back full force, her

palms getting sweaty, her heart not so much beating as flipping out in her chest. She knew they were going their separate ways after all this was over . . . but that didn't seem to matter in the slightest when she considered a world in which he didn't breathe or laugh or fight or do the sort of kindnesses he shared with all around him.

What, he mouthed.

She shook her head. "It's nothing."

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J. R.Ward

Yeah, what a lie that was.

It was everything.

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J. R.Ward

FIFTY-NINE

They used the carriage that had been left by the stables to transport the female back to her family's home. Tohrment took the reins up front and Darius stayed in the cabin with the female, wishing there was some comfort to give her and knowing there was little to offer. The trip was long and the thundering hooves up in front and the creaking of the seat and the clanging of tack were very loud and precluded much discussion.

Although Darius knew well that even if their mode of transport had been whisper quiet and still as water in a goblet, their precious cargo would have uttered nothing. She had refused drink and sustenance, and did naught but focus on the landscape as they sped through farmland and village and forest.

As they proceeded in a southerly direction, it occurred to him that the symphath must have chained her mind in some way following her initial capture, assuming this carriage was the manner in which the pair had gone up to that stone manse--otherwise she would have been at risk for dematerializing free from the rushing confines.

Tragically, such an egress was not a worry now because she was so weak--although he had to wonder. Given her expression of painful

forbearance, he had the distinct impression that she felt imprisoned even though she had regained her freedom.

The temptation had been to send Tohrment ahead to tell her mother and father the good news that she'd been rescued, but Darius held back. A lot could happen during the trip and he needed Tohrment to drive the horses whilst he minded the female. Given the threats from humans and lessers and symphaths , both he and Tohr had their weapons out, and still, he wished he had more backup. If only there was a way to get in touch with the other Brothers and call them forth. . . .

It was just on the verge of dawn when the exhausted horse pulled

them into the village that came afore the female's home.

As if recognizing where they were, she lifted her head and her lips moved, her eyes growing wide and tearful.

Leaning forward and holding out his palms, Darius said, "Be of ease .

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J. R.Ward

. . it shall be--"

As her eyes shifted to his, he saw the scream she held within her soul.

It shall not be , she mouthed.

Then she dematerialized right out of the carriage.

Darius cursed and pounded on the side panel with his fist. As

Tohrment brought the horse to a clattering halt, Darius leaped out--

She didn't make it far.

The flash of her white nightgown appeared in the field to the left and he followed her suit, flashing over to her as she started to run. Lacking any true vigor, her weaving gait was that of the desperate but injured and he let her go for as long as she could.

Later, he would reflect that it was then when he knew for sure, during that mad rush she put upon them both: She couldn't go home. It wasn't what she had been through . . . it was what she was carrying forth from her ordeal.

When the female tripped and fell to the ground, she did nothing to shield her belly.

And verily, she clawed at the ground to keep going but he simply

couldn't bear to watch the struggle anymore.

"Arrest your exertions," he said, pulling her up from the cold grasses.

"Arrest thee now . . ."

She fought him with all the strength of a fawn and then fell still in his arms. In the frozen moment between them, her breath came out hard from her mouth and her heart raced--he could see her flickering jugular in the moonlight, could feel the quiver in her veins.

Her voice was weak, but she meant truly what she uttered. "Do not take me back there--not even to the start of the drive. Do not render me returned."

"You cannot mean what you say." With gentle hands, he pulled her hair back from her face and abruptly remembered seeing the blond strands in the brush in her room. So much had changed since she'd last sat before her vanity mirror and readied herself for a night with her blooded family.