When he came back he went to the other side of the bed, and the mattress dipped down as he stretched out on top of the duvet. Crossing his arms over his chest and his feet at the ankles, he shut his eyes.
One by one the candles went out around the room. When there was just a single wick that burned, he said, "I'll leave that going so you can see."
She looked at him. "Zsadist?"
"Yeah?"
"When I was..." She cleared her throat. "When I was in that hole in the ground, I thought of you. I wanted you to come for me. I knew you could get me out."
His brows went down even though his lids were lowered. "I thought of you, too."
"You did?" His chin moved up and down, and still she said, "Really?"
"Yeah. Some days... you were all I could think of."
Bella felt her eyes stretch wide. She rolled toward him and propped her head up on one arm.
"Seriously?" When he didn't reply, she had to press. "Why?"
His big chest expanded and he blew out his breath. "Wanted to get you back. That's all."
Oh... so he'd just been doing his job.
Bella dropped her arm and turned away from him. "Well... thank you for coming for me."
In the silence she watched the candle burn on the night-stand. The tear-shaped flame undulated, so lovely, so graceful...
Zsadist's voice was quiet. "I hated the idea that you were frightened and alone. That someone had hurt you. I couldn't... let it go."
Bella stopped breathing and glanced over her shoulder.
"I didn't sleep for those six weeks," he murmured. "All I could see when I shut my eyes was you, calling out for help."
God, even though his face was harsh, his voice was so soft and beautiful, like the candle flame.
His head swiveled toward her and his eyes opened. His black stare was full of emotion. "I didn't know how you could have survived that long. I was so sure you were dead. But then we found the place and I lifted you out of that hole. When I saw what he'd done to you..."
Bella slowly turned over, not wanting to startle him into a retreat. "I don't remember any of it."
"Good, that's good."
"Someday... I'm going to need to know. Will you tell me?"
He closed his eyes. "If you really have to have the details."
They were silent for a time, and then he shifted toward her, rolling onto his side. "I hate to ask you this, but what did he look like? Can you remember anything specific about him?"
Plenty, she thought. Too much.
"He, ah, he colored his hair brown."
"What?"
"I mean, I'm pretty sure he did. Every week or so he'd go into the bathroom and I could smell the chemicals. And he'd get rooty in between. A little line of white right at his scalp."
"But I thought paling out was good because it meant they'd been in the Society longer."
"I don't know. I think he had... or has... a position of power. From what I could hear from the hole, the other lessers were careful around him. And they called him 'O.'"
"Anything else?"
She shivered, going back into the nightmare. "He loved me."
A growl vibrated out of Zsadist, low and nasty. She liked the sound of it. It made her feel protected. Gave her the strength to keep talking.
"The lesser, he said he... loved me, and he did. He was obsessed with me." She released a breath slowly, trying to calm her fluttering heart. "In the beginning I was terrified of him, but after a while I used his feelings against him. I wanted to hurt him."
"Did you?"
"Sometimes, yes. I made him... cry."
Zsadist's expression took on the oddest cast. As if he were... envious. "What did that feel like?"
"I don't want to say."
"Because it was good?"
"I don't want you to think I'm cruel."
"Cruelty is different from retaliation."
In a warrior's world, she imagined that was true. "I'm not sure I agree."
His black eyes narrowed. "There are those who would ahvenge you. You know that, right?"
She thought about him going out into the night to hunt the lesser and couldn't bear the idea that he would get hurt. Then she pictured her brother, all angry and prideful, ready to tear into the slayer, too.
"No... I don't want you doing that. You or Rehvenge or anyone else."
A draft shot through the room, like a window had been thrown open. She looked around and realized the frigid wave had come out of Zsadist's body.
"Do you have a mate?" he asked abruptly.
"Why do you... Oh, no, Rehvenge is my brother. Not my mate."
Those big shoulders eased up. But then he frowned. "Have you ever?"
"Had a mate? For a little while I did. But things didn't work out."
"Why?"
"Because of my brother." She paused. "Actually, that's not true. But when the male couldn't stand up to Rehv, I lost a lot of respect for him. And then... then the guy let the details of our relationship out to the glymera and things got... complicated."
Actually, they got awful. The male's reputation had stayed intact, of course, whereas hers got shredded to pieces. Maybe that was why she was so attracted to Zsadist. He didn't care what anyone thought of him. There was no subterfuge, no courtly manners to hide his thoughts and instincts. He was honest, and that candor, even if it just served to reveal his anger, made it safe to trust him.
"Were you two..." His voice trailed off.
"Were we what?"
"Lovers?" In a harsh rush, Zsadist cursed. "Never mind, that's none of my - "
"Ah, yes, we were, Rehv found out, and that was when the problems started. You know how the aristocracy is. A female who lays with someone she's not mated to? You'd swear she was tainted for life. I mean, I've always wished I'd been born a civilian. But you can't opt out of your bloodline, can you?"
"Did you love the male?"
"I thought so. But... no." She thought of the skull next to Zsadist's pallet. "Have you ever been in love?"
The corner of his mouth lifted into a snarl. "What the f**k do you think?"
As she recoiled, he closed his eyes. "Sorry. I mean, no. That would be no."
So why did he keep that skull? Whose was it? She was about to ask when he cut the question off. "Your brother thinks he's going after that lesser?"
"Undoubtedly. Rehvenge is... Well, he's been head of my household since my father died when I was very young, and Rehv is very aggressive. Extremely so."
"Well, you tell him to sit tight. I'm going to ahvenge you."
Her eyes shot to Zsadist's. "No."
"Yes."
"But I don't want you to." She couldn't live with herself if he got killed in the process.
"And I can't stop myself." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Christ... I can't breathe for knowing that bastard is out there. He has to die."
Fear and gratitude and something altogether warm squeezed her chest. On impulse, she leaned in and kissed him on the lips.
He jerked back with a hiss, eyes wider than if she'd slapped him.
Oh, hell. Why had she done that? "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I - "
"No, it's cool. We're cool." He rolled onto his back and lifted his hand to his mouth. His fingers rubbed back and forth across his lips, like he was wiping her off him.
When she sighed good and hard, he said, "What's the matter?"
"Am I so distasteful?"
He dropped his arm. "No."
What a lie. "Maybe I'll get you a washcloth, how about that?"
When she would have shot out of bed, his hand clamped on her arm. "That was my first kiss, okay? I just didn't expect it."
Bella stopped breathing. How was that possible?
"Oh, for chrissakes, don't look at me like that." He let go and went back to staring at the ceiling.
His first kiss... "Zsadist?"
"What."
"Will you let me do that again?"
There was a long, long pause. She inched over to him, pushing her body through the sheets and blankets.
"I won't touch you anywhere else. Just my lips. On yours."
Turn your head, she willed him. Turn your head and look at me.
And then he did.
She didn't wait for an engraved invitation or for him to change his mind. She pressed her lips to his lightly, then hovered over his mouth. When he stayed where he was, she dipped down again and this time stroked at him. His breath sucked in.