Lover Eternal (Black Dagger Brotherhood 2)

She hadn't meant for it to happen, she thought. The falling or the telling.

But she would take neither of them back.

"I'm not sure," she murmured, taking in the brute strength of his shoulders and arms. "But I think it was something along the lines of 'I love you.' Yeah, that was it. I, ah, I love you."

Now, that was lame. She could do a hell of a lot better.

Mary grabbed his face, planted a good hard one on his mouth, and looked him straight in the eye.

"I love you, Rhage. I love you something fierce."

Those heavy arms wrapped around her and he buried his head in her neck. "I didn't think you ever would."

"Am I that hardheaded?"

"No. I'm that undeserving."

Mary pulled back and glared at him. "I don't want to hear you say that again. You are the very best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Even with the beast?"

Beast? Sure, she'd sensed something else was in him. But a beast? Still, Rhage was looking so worried, she humored him.

"Yeah, even with him as well. Only can we do it without all the metal next time? I'm very confident that you won't hurt me."

"Yeah, I think we can lose the chains."

Mary urged him back into the crook of her neck and found herself focusing on the Madonna and Child across the room.

"You are the oddest miracle," she whispered to him, looking at the picture.

"What?" he said into her throat.

"Nothing." She kissed the top of his blond head and went back to staring at the Madonna.

Chapter Forty-six

Bella took a deep breath and smelled dirt. God, her head hurt. And her knees were killing her. They were jammed against something hard. And cold.

Her eyes flew open. Darkness. Blackness. Blindness.

She tried to lift a hand, but her elbow ran into a bumpy wall. There was another wall at her back and in front of her and to the sides. She banged around in the small space, panicking. Opening her mouth until it gaped, she found she couldn't breathe. There was no air, only the smell of damp earth, clogging... nose... she -

Screamed.

And something above her moved. Light blinded her as she looked up.

"Ready to come out?" a man's voice said softly.

It all came back: the race for her house across the meadow, the fight with the lesser, the blacking out.

With a quick jerk she was lifted by a chest harness from what she realized was a pipe in the ground. As she looked around in terror, she had no idea where she was. The room was not large and the walls were unfinished. There were no windows, just two skylights in the low ceiling, which were both covered with black cloth. Three bald lightbulbs hung from wires. The place smelled sweet, a combination of fresh pine boards and the lesser's baby-powder scent.

When she saw a stainless-steel table and dozens of knives and hammers, she trembled so badly she started to cough.

"Don't worry about all that," the lesser said. "That's not for you as long as you behave."

His hands burrowed into her hair and fanned it out over her shoulders. "You're going to take a shower now, and you're going to wash this. You're going to wash this for me."

He reached over and picked up a bundle of clothes. As he pressed them into her arms, she realized they were her own.

"If you're good, you get to put these on. But not until we get you clean." He pushed her toward an open door, just as a cell phone started to ring. "Into the shower. Now."

Too disoriented and petrified to argue, she stumbled into an unfinished bathroom that had no toilet. Like a drone, she shut herself in and turned the water on with hands that shook. When she pivoted around, she saw the lesser had opened the door and was watching her.

He put his hand over the bottom of the cell phone. "Take off the clothes. Now."

She glanced over at the knives. Bile rose in her throat as she stripped. When she was finished, she covered herself with her hands and shivered.

The lesser hung up and put the phone down. "You do not hide from me. Drop your arms."

She backed up, shaking her head numbly.

"Drop them."

"Please, don't - "

He took two steps forward and slapped her across the face, sending her into the wall. Then he grabbed her.

"Look at me. Look at me." His eyes glittered with excitement as she met his stare. "God, it is so good to have you back."

He put his arms around her, holding her close. The sweet smell of him overwhelmed her.

Butch was one hell of an escort, Mary thought as they departed the Saint Francis oncology suite. Wearing a black wool coat, a 1940s-style hat, and a terrific pair of aviator sunglasses, he looked like a very chic hit man.

Which was not deceiving. She knew he was armed to the teeth, because Rhage had inspected the man's weapons before he'd let the two of them out of the house.

"You need anything before we go back?" Butch asked when they were outside.

"No, thanks. Let's head home."

The afternoon had been grueling and inconclusive. Dr. Delia Croce was still conferring with her partners and had ordered Mary to have an MRI as well as another physical. More blood had been drawn also because the team wanted to recheck a couple of liver functions.

God, she hated that she was going to have to come back tomorrow and had yet another night of not knowing to go through. As she and Butch went over to the open lot and got into the Mercedes, she was that horrible combination of wired and tired. What she really needed to do was go to bed, but she was so anxious, sleep was not in her future.

"Actually, Butch, will you take me by my house on the way home? I want to pick up some medicine I left there." Those low-dose sleeping pills were going to come in handy.

"I'd like to avoid heading over there if we could. Any chance you could pick up what you want at a CVS or something?"

"They're prescription."

He frowned. "All right. But you make it quick, and I'm coming in with you."

Fifteen minutes later they parked in her driveway. In the golden glow of the setting sun, her place looked deserted. There were leaves blown up against the front door, her chrysanthemums were half-dead, and there was a tree limb down in the yard.

She hoped whoever bought it would love the place as much as she had.

When she walked into the house, a cold gust shot through the living room, and it turned out that the window over the kitchen sink was cracked about three inches. As she shut it, she assumed V must have left it open when he'd come over to work on the alarm system before she'd moved out She locked the thing and then went upstairs to get the Ambien.

Before they left, she paused at the rear sliding door and looked at her backyard. The pool was covered with a patina of leaves, the surface dull. The meadow beyond was an undulation of pale grass -

Something was flashing over at Bella's house.

Her instincts flared. "Butch, do you mind if we check that out?"

"Not a chance. I need to get you home."

She slid the door back.

"Mary, it's not safe."

"And that's Bella's. There shouldn't be anything moving at her house this time of day. Come on."

"You can call her from the car."

"I'll do it from here." A moment later she hung up and headed back for the door. "No answer. I'm going over."

"The hell you are - Mary, hold up! Christ, don't make me throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here."

"You pull something like that and I'll tell Rhage you had your hands all over me."

Butch's eyes flared. "Jesus, you're as bad a manipulator as he is."

"Not quite, but I'm learning. Now, are you coming with me or am I going it alone?"

He let out a juicy curse and palmed a gun. "I don't like this."

"Duly noted. Look, we'll just make sure she's okay. Shouldn't take more than ten minutes."

They walked through the meadow, Butch scanning the field with hard eyes. As they got closer to the farmhouse, she could see Bella's back French door swinging in the wind and catching the sun's last rays.

"Stay tight with me, okay?" Butch said as they walked onto the lawn.

The door bounced open again.

"Oh, shit," he muttered.

Its brass lock had been splintered and several panes had been broken.

They stepped cautiously inside.

"Oh, my God," Mary breathed.

Chairs were strewn about the kitchen along with broken plates and mugs and a shattered lamp. Burn marks streaked the floor and so did some kind of black, inklike substance.