The Thief (Black Dagger Brotherhood #16)(134)

She kissed his palm. “I’m so glad…well. You know.”

“I know.” He grew serious. “Listen, Ghisele is going to come in in a little bit and I’m going to…”

“Jane explained it to me.”

“There is nothing sexual at all in it.”

“I understand.” She smiled. “Save the sex for me, okay?”

“Always,” he growled.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. You rest.”

“I love you. Always and forever.”

“I love you, too, Assail.” She leaned in and kissed him. Then ran her tongue across the points of his canines. “Man, I am so turned on—”

Before he could help himself, he snatched ahold of the nape of her neck and yanked her to his mouth. After he kissed her hard, he set her back so he could meet her eyes.

As the scent of her arousal flared, he knew she was staring at his fangs as they descended from the roof of his mouth.

“I will never hurt you with them,” he said in a guttural voice. “Ever. But if you want them—”

“I do,” she breathed. “I want you to do…whatever you do.”

Without thinking about it—and even though the door was not locked and there were people around—he took her hand and pulled it under the sheets. Placing her palm on his erection, he rolled his hips.

She took over from there. As they kissed, and his hand found her breast through her fleece, she stroked him.

It did not take long. And even though his fresh stitches stung as he worked with her rhythm, the pleasure was so great, he started coming almost immediately—and he didn’t stop.

He didn’t ever want to stop.

“I love you,” he said on a groan, “and I can’t wait to be inside you again.”

“Me, too. God…me, too…”



* * *



—

It was about an hour later when Sola caught a ride to her car with Vishous in the van they used to run her grandmother back home. Assail’s cousins and Markcus had been overjoyed at the reunion, and the three males had fallen in line with marching orders to go to the supermarket.

All was well in the world.

And about to be even better, Sola thought as she got out. “Thanks for the ride.”

“I do not like this.”

“You’ve made that amply clear,” she said dryly.

At that moment, his cell phone went off, and talk about perfect timing. In case it was about Assail, though, she waited.

The vampire cursed. “Goddamn it. Another attack.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You just lucked out, though. I’ve got to go handle this—otherwise, I’d be going with you.”

“I told you, this has to be a solo flight. It’s the principle of the thing.”

The vampire just shook his head. “You have that phone I gave you, true?”

She patted her parka. “Yup.”

“When you’re ready, assuming you live through this, call me and I’ll get you back into the training center.”

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “I mean that. And you know, I’m sorry about the windshield.”

“No, you’re not.”

She laughed. “Fine. I’m not. But will you let me pay for the damage?”

“Never.” He looked over at her. “Just don’t get yourself killed and we’ll call it even. Assail won’t make it without you.”

“I won’t make it without him. So don’t worry, I’m not going to fuck up the good thing I got going.”

With that, she closed the passenger-side door. And as she went to her car, she became so relaxed, she floated over the pavement sure as if her feet did not touch the ground.

Then again, she was in the zone with this one.

Revenge…was a dish best served calmly.





SIXTY-TWO


Some eight hundred miles to the south, on a tract of land that was serene and largely uninhabited, emissaries from the King arrived at a destination that knocked their socks off.

As Saxton, the King’s solicitor, re-formed, he looked around and took a deep, easing breath. “Oh, this is beautiful.”

His beloved mate, Ruhn, materialized beside him and echoed his sentiments. “This is…astounding.”

They each reached for the other’s hand at the same time—and then they stayed where they were, letting the gracious landscape sink in. Up ahead, under a fat moon in a balmy sky, a lovely old white house sat at the culmination of an allée of live oaks. With porches on both the first and second floors, and black shutters, and a hip roof, it was a Southern lady of gracious extraction.

“So he knows we’re coming?” Ruhn said.

“Well…I wouldn’t go that far, precisely.”

When Saxton went to walk forward, his love pulled him back. “Murhder does not know we’re here?”

“I sent him a letter.”

“And his response was?”

“I didn’t actually get one.”

Ruhn was largely a placid and loving soul, a gentle giant with a heart of gold who had lived through more pain and suffering than Saxton could ever understand.