Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood 20) - Page 62

She stopped dead there. And as the silence continued for a minute, V knew her human brain was trying to make sense of things that she’d seen and heard that did not fit in with her species’ version of what was real.

“This shadow appeared,” she said eventually. “I don’t know where it came from, I don’t know what it was… and he started shooting at it. Then he shot the old man behind the cash register in the face. But it wasn’t an old man. It was a woman—look, I know this all sounds crazy.”

“Keep going,” Xcor said gently.

“The woman got ahold of me somehow. Without touching me. I don’t know what she did, but I couldn’t breathe, I had no control over myself and she was taking me with her—but then he…” The human swallowed hard. “He came after me, to save me. He confronted her, and that was when he put the knife to his throat. He told her…”

“What did he tell her,” V prompted.

“That he wasn’t… sleeping with her anymore.” As V cursed, the woman looked up, her eyes imploring him, but about what, he wasn’t sure. “They were arguing, it was hard for me to follow. And he told her he was going to kill himself to save me. That someone… Lassiter?… was going to protect me. After that, he…” She put her hands to her face, covering her eyes like she wished she couldn’t re-see it all. “He sliced his own throat open.”

“What did the female look like?” V asked as Xcor started to say a prayer in the Old Language.

“She was beautiful. With long brunette hair. She somehow managed to—I know this sounds crazy, but she killed the shop owner, I know she did. He was on the floor, dead, in the storeroom. And then… she became him for a while.” The woman rubbed her forehead. “You have to believe me—”

“We do,” V said. “Every word.”

Lowering her arms, her bloodshot eyes lifted to meet his again. “I feel so insane.”

“What happened next.” He asked this even though he knew exactly where they were heading—and at least everything was making sense now, even if she was confused as hell. “Tell me what happened next.”

“There was… a light, out in the main part of the shop. It came into the storeroom and then a man was there—I was blacking out at that point, but I can picture him in my mind clear as day. He glowed… like an angel, he glowed. He and the brunette argued and she left. Then he took my hand and gave me this ball of… energy.” She looked down at her palm. “Just holding it made my whole body feel better. He left, too, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, but then I crawled over and I put it… to where the bleeding was.”

“That explains the healing,” Manny said in a quiet way.

Closing her eyes, she exhaled with defeat. “I’m trying to make sense of this all, and the thing is, I dreamed about a shadow last night. Just like the one I saw in the bookshop, that he fought. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up. But I’m not going to, am I?”

“You don’t have to worry about any of this.” V made a move to get a hand-rolled out of his leather jacket, but there was no smoking in the surgical unit—and definitely not when there was pure oxygen being pumped into a Bastard. “Not any of it. It’s not about you.”

Those exhausted eyes met his own. “Are you going to take my memories like he did? Because he has. I know he has.”

“What did you say your name is?”

“I didn’t. But that doesn’t matter, does it. Who are you?” She moved her hand around. “What is this? Where am I.”

“Caldwell, New York,” Vishous murmured. “Where do you think.”

That stare of hers moved to Manny. Then to Xcor. Finally, it settled on Balz as he lay on the table. Slowly, she shook her head.

“This is not my Caldwell.” Her face became a mask of composure, like she was trying to accept some really bad news. “It’s yours, isn’t it.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Inside the club named after a weed with a cheerful sunny thatch roof upon its stem, Rahvyn ducked her eyes as another round of pink lights spun around the open area of the meadow-themed establishment. When she had first arrived, she had been a bit taken by the decor. Flowers were everywhere, hanging from the ceiling, arranged in vases mounted on the walls—depicted in framed photographs and amateur art down a serving area that was so long, she could not see the terminus of it. But then she realized the blooms were silk, the leaves plastic, and in spite of the large footprint of the building, things were very, very crowded.

Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy
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