Prisoner of Night (The Black Dagger Brotherhood #16.5)(56)

Ahmare closed her eyes. There were no words to express how she felt, how grateful she was that he’d come to that realization, how maybe there was a life together for them after all.

“And what about your father?”

Duran took a deep breath. “I’ve wanted to kill him for so long. It’s been my only reason for existence, this vengeance—and you know, when I decided to let my mahmen’s bones go, I realized it was literally a case of my life or all that hatred. I had to release it.”

“Oh, God, Duran.” She shuddered against his warm body. “I’m so glad you’re here and you’re safe.”

His hand resumed its stroking. “I got out through the old duct system, it was more efficient than running through the corridors. I broke out of an air vent with about thirty seconds to spare. I ran as fast as I could so I didn’t get trapped in the collapse.” His eyes traced her face. “And I knew where you would go. I returned to Chalen’s as fast as I could.”

“And you got there just in time.”

“Almost like it was fate.” He inched back and smiled down at her. “As if someone knew what they were doing all along to bring me back to you.”

They both tilted their heads up and looked to the heavens. It was a beautiful night, the galaxies glowing above in the cloudless sky, the stars twinkling clearly. And yet there was also a warning to the east. A glow that was, at present, just a kindling. The fire was coming, however.

“We better go inside,” she said.

On their way in, she picked up the sandwich. And he got the milk.

Teamwork, she thought, was everything in a relationship.



The house was surprisingly big, a five-bedroom place that was almost all glass on the side with the view. The interior was made up of exposed rough beams and gray slate floors, and the rustic furniture was a perfect match. Ahmare learned that the Shadow had built everything from the ground up. The female had needed to do something to keep her busy over the last twenty years, she’d told them on the trip north, and she’d taught herself construction—as well as gotten better at making tables and chairs, evidently.

As the shutters came down over all the windows and doors for the day, Duran went to have a shower and Ahmare decided to go down and check on her brother.

She found the young guard asleep sitting up in an armchair in the lower sitting area. As it was cool in the basement, she took a throw blanket and laid it over him. He woke up immediately, and she put her hand on his knee when he jerked back in surprise.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.”

His eyes were wide and haunted, and she worried about what he saw in his dreams. She could only imagine what life had been like with Chalen, and wondered when she would learn the poor kid’s story.

“You’re never going back, okay?” she told him. “And we’re going to take care of you.”

As he exhaled in relief, she gave him a hug. And also a pillow for his head. Some night, they were going to get him into a proper bed, but she understood his need to be on guard. Who could blame him? Sometimes the worst part about trauma was not going through it. It was the aftermath, when you were free.

And you obsessed about what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten out.

Heading down the hall, she was surprised to hear voices coming from Ahlan’s room.

And then she stopped in his doorway. Her brother was lying back against the pillows of a queen-size bed, his gaunt face and sunken eyes still shocking to see every time she looked at him. His color was so much better, however, and he was getting bathed.

Thanks to Nexi.

The Shadow was cleaning his bruised legs with a washcloth, her braids hanging down, her hands so sure and steady. And Ahlan was staring at the female with a kind of rapturous wonder, as if he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“. . . even the furniture?” he was saying in a raspy voice.

“Yeah, I even made the furniture. The first couple of tries at chairs back in my cabin were not so—” Nexi glanced over to the doorway and flushed. “Oh. Hey. Figured he’d need a, you know, clean. Ing, I mean. Cleaning.”

“She gave me her vein, too,” Ahlan added.

“For medicinal purposes.” The Shadow cleared her throat and put the washcloth she’d been using back in a stainless steel kitchen bowl she’d brought down with her. “Well, this is done. You’re good. I’m going to head upstairs—”

“Will you come back,” Ahlan said as he tried to sit up. “Or I can come upstairs—please.”

Nexi looked down at him. She seemed surprised at the way he stared at her, and Ahmare felt a very sisterly impulse to beg the Shadow not to break his heart.

Male vampires tended to fall hard when they did.

Except then a small, secret smile graced Nexi’s lips. For a split second. But it definitely was there. “Yeah. I’ll be back.”

When the Shadow turned to leave, her face was all composed, all hard-ass, all fighter well-trained and experienced. And Ahmare let her be with that armor.

She had seen what was behind it, however. And had a feeling that a divide had presented itself for the Shadow.

Left alone with her brother, Ahmare crossed over to the bed and sat down. His hands found hers, and they just stared at each other for the longest time.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry I dragged you into all this. I was so fucking stupid.”