Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood #20)(92)

Like destiny.

And fate.

He was back in Caldwell. He didn’t know how much time he had, what his life span was, what kinds of powers he could marshal.

He was his father’s son, however.

Picturing Wrath, son of Wrath’s face, the male started to smile.

His purpose couldn’t be any clearer—although it would not be to honor the entity who’d brought him into existence, failed him, and then resurrected him. Finishing what he had started before things had gotten off course would be for his own satisfaction.

“Thank you, father mine,” Lash growled into the night, “I’ll take it from here.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR




As Erika led Balthazar down into her basement, she held her breath. She’d turned the light on before she’d started the descent and the good news was that there were no interior walls in her cellar. Just steel supports that were four inches in diameter.

Easy to look around.

And there was nothing behind the open staircase or through the doorway into the utility bath.

“It’s clear,” she said. Not that that was necessary.

While he cased the place for himself, she saw the subterranean square footage with fresh eyes and was glad she’d finished it—well, sort of finished things with carpeting and some furniture and a fresh coat of paint. When she’d done the renovation, about two years ago, it had seemed like an unnecessary extravagance considering the only thing she did on the lower level was her laundry. But back then she’d been recently promoted to homicide, she’d had a little extra money, and she’d figured as long as she didn’t get precious about her choices, it was affordable. And maybe she’d been trying to turn the townhouse into a proper home. Which had seemed like a healthy thing to do.

Yeah, total failure on that one. No amount of Benjamin Moore was going to morph the three levels and a roof into a “home.” It was still her apartment, her camp-out, her tent. Her temporary, rather than her permanent.

He checked out her laundry machines, and looked behind the couch even though there was only an inch between it and the concrete wall. Inspected the furnace and the water heater. Even opened the electrical panel.

“My contractor really wanted me to throw some Sheetrock over the mechanicals and put in a proper dropped ceiling.” She shrugged even though his eyes weren’t on her. “But I’m cheap by nature.”

She’d also known about halfway through the painting and flooring that the real goal of the reno was not going to be reached, no matter how many pipes and electrical wires were covered.

“So what’s the plan,” she said.

When he just shook his head, she wasn’t surprised. They’d gone through all the rooms, checked all the closets, and made sure all windows and doors were locked. But his grim expression hadn’t improved and that duffle bag of weapons he’d brought with him suggested he was no more comfortable than he’d been before they’d started clearing each level.

“We’re going to stay down here.” He went over and put the cache of guns by the couch. “Until I get word back from the Brotherhood.”

“The Brotherhood?”

“My buddies.”

She had an image of that goateed male with the tattoos at his temple, and the other stockier one. Then she remembered the shadow from the bookshop.

“Okay. We’ll stay down here.”

He nodded. And then paced over to the washer.

As he turned around, for some reason she realized he still had that towel wrapped around his waist. With the gun in his hand, he looked like a fitness model who had decided to embrace his inner Sons of Anarchy.

And what do you know, now that they were relatively safe, her eyes cased his body and she thought about how it had felt to be under him—which she supposed was proof that procreation was part of the survival instinct: Given the danger they were in, sex should be the last thing on her mind. But humans hadn’t made it five million years as a species because their libidos were shy about attraction, regardless of the circumstance.

Plus… he was a vampire.

Somehow, that little revelation had gotten lost with the threat that had yet to materialize. And shouldn’t that whole different species stuff bother her? Shouldn’t the existence of them make her rethink everything? Shouldn’t the fact that the pair of them had almost had sex shock her?

Nope, she thought as she measured the smooth, hairless expanse of his chest. That would be a big fat nope, at least for the sex part.

Hell, with abs like that, he could have been a Chevy Tahoe and she’d want to jump him.

“Ordinarily,” he said as he turned to the stairs, “I’m not much for rule following. But when it’s a direct order from someone I respect, I’m in.”

“Do you think it’s shadows? Like what was in that bookshop?”

“Can’t say.” He seemed to bite down on his molars, the hollows in his cheeks becoming more pronounced. “Don’t know. And it’s making me mental. I can feel something, I just can’t see it.”

Then he looked at her. Tilted his head. Smiled a little. “You know, you’re handling this really well.”

“Am I?” she murmured, not sure of that at all.

“Absolutely.” He smiled more widely. “Come on, when was the last time you had a vampire in your basement?”