Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood #20)(112)

“You have questions,” she said eventually.

“Well, yeah.”

“I am not surprised. It is a lot to comprehend—”

“I’m always waiting for you to leave,” he blurted. And then he clapped his mouth shut as if he’d surprised himself by speaking thus.

“I am sorry.” And in those words, was she not apologizing for so much more than his worry? “Truly.”

“You know, I come to Luchas House and I always expect you to be gone.” He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “And I mean, that’s your right. Totally. Except I feel like we’re… friends. So I don’t want you to go, and if you do, I want a chance to say goodbye to you.”

She went quiet for a bit. Then whispered, “I am not sure how to respond.”

He shrugged and finished his bread and meats. “At least you’re not lying to me and saying you’re staying. But where are you going? And when?”

“That I do not know.”

Nate stared into his empty plate, and she wondered what exactly he was seeing in the plain white china. “Do you have to go?”

“When one does not belong, one is always leaving even whilst staying put.”

“You could belong, though.” His eyes flashed up to hers. “There are people who care about you, who support you. Who want you to stay.”

Ah, but she had been exposed, hadn’t she. With what she had done to him, she had tipped her hand in ways that were going to complicate things. The Black Dagger Brotherhood and their fighting comrades were devoted unto the survival of the species, and though they were males of worth, her power was something they would want in their hands. And beyond them, there were always others who would seek to capture and control her and the magic she possessed.

“Nate, I am always going to be grateful for your friendship—”

He held up his forefinger to stop her. “You know, when I said I’d like to say goodbye, I was kind of hoping it wouldn’t be today.”

She thought back to the Old Country and being hunted by that aristocrat. “My presence is not always welcome.”

“How can you say that? You’re super nice. And you’re… well, really nice.”

His expression tightened as if he wished he had chosen other words. She wanted to tell him it was fine, it was all okay. If there was awkwardness, it was on her side of the table.

“Rahvyn, I don’t want to put anything on you, but I really hope you hang here a little longer because I don’t understand what I am now. And I kind of feel I might learn best from you what this all means.” He put up his hand. “Not that I’m not grateful. I just—so here’s a question… if I jump in front of a speeding train, I don’t die? Is that what this is? If I get shot in the head, do I walk around bleeding for the rest of eternity or do I heal? Do I age? What if I turn into a rotting old guy, you know? I mean, what… happens to me?”

Rahvyn could only shake her head. “You will be as you are now, no matter what is done to you, no matter the passage of time.”

He fidgeted in his chair, as if the enormity of it all was occurring to him and the stress was nearly too much to contain. Thus he shifted the conversation—and she could not blame him. “I talked to Shuli, by the way. He FaceTimed me.”

“He heard then you were hurt, yes.”

“Yeah. He was… I don’t know, maybe he was just drunk still, but he was really emotional.” Nate shrugged. “I was kind of amazed. He’s totally about himself most of the time, you know?”

“He is much bluster—but that can be fun. In his heart, he is pure.”

“He says he’s never going to Dandelion again.”

“It was nice inside. I liked the flowers.” She frowned. “That was one of the last things I said to you, wasn’t it.”

“I just remember stepping outside the club and seeing that man on the ground, the bouncer. You were really nice to him. You knelt down and then came the pops.” Nate shook his head. “It didn’t hurt very much. I thought if you died… it was supposed to hurt.”

“I would not know.”

There was another period of silence. “Rahvyn?”

“Yes?”

“Are you like me? Or, I mean, am I like you?”

She focused on him properly, seeing him for the handsome young male he was—and yet recalling all that had been done to him in that lab. Indeed, she had been inside his brain, not because she had sought to take something from him, but because he had welcomed her with his emotions. In offering empathy to her, he had created a connection that had given his past over.

She had been horrified by all that he had endured.

“In some ways,” she said softly, “I am very much like you.”

He nodded a little. Then looked her straight in the eye. “Promise me you won’t leave without telling me.”

As she considered what she had burdened him with, there was one and only one reply to give him. Reaching across the table, she put her hand on his.

“I promise,” she vowed.





CHAPTER FORTY-THREE




Erika ended up leaving the silver Honda a couple of blocks over from CPD headquarters. Locking things, she took the key, and as she started walking away, she was struck by the fine spring air. Downtown could be nasty as a proverbial armpit—particularly in August, down by the restaurants, when the dumpsters became stews of decaying food—but not today. Even with the trucks rumbling by, and the cars, and the pedestrians who smoked, there was only the smell of earth and growing things.