Lover Unveiled (Black Dagger Brotherhood 19)

As Tallah set the things down, Mae nodded to the far corner of the table, where some kind of display of objects was covered with a threadbare monogrammed towel. “What’s under there?”

Usually, the female kept everything neat as a pin, the minimal amount of stuff out on the counters, tables, shelves, mantels.

“Tell me again what happened last night?” Tallah said as she lowered herself down into her chair and passed a cup and saucer over.

The porcelain twosome rattled in her unsteady grip, and the sound reverberated through Mae’s entire body. It was a relief to take the tea and end both the acoustics and the risk of a total spill, and she covered up her rush by giving a factual this-then-that of everything. Naturally, the report had redacted parts. She cut out the part where she roughed up that human woman in the wait line, and yeah, boy, there was a whole lot of gappage when it came to Shawn.

“The Reverend lied about the Book,” Tallah said as she poured some milk into her tea. “He knows exactly what it is. But perhaps not where.”

“Well, he’s not going to be a resource. He was pretty clear on that.”

As they fell into silence, Mae watched the curl of steam rising from her tea. With the cooling of the Earl Grey, the breadth of it was diminishing.

“Tallah . . .”

“What, dearest one?”

She pictured Rhoger in that cold water. “I don’t know how much more time we have.”

It wasn’t that the body was decomposing—yet. But it would. And more than that, she wasn’t sure how many more nights she could hit that Shell, and buy that ice, and go to that tub to drain the water and refill things . . .

Oh, who was she kidding. She would keep doing the job until there were only pieces of him left, nothing but a body-fluid soup in that bathroom—provided there was hope. And maybe that was what was dying for her at this moment.

She pushed the teacup away. “Tallah, this is hard for me to say.”

“Please.” The older female leaned forward and put her hand on Mae’s arm. “You can tell me anything.”

Mae focused on the flower print of the housecoat’s sleeve, the little yellow and white flowers set off in the sea of blue.

“This Book, whatever it is.” Mae looked into those watery eyes, and tried to keep the demand out of her voice, out of her expression. “I mean, what are we really doing here. I don’t want to doubt you, but I can’t . . . I’m finding it hard to keep going on this goose chase. You said the Reverend was our last hope, and we’ve come up dry. Again.”

Well, and then there was the larger issue of what she’d been told the Book would do for her. She so needed to believe resurrection was possible, but she was beginning to worry that this was how urban legends set up shop and propagated: Someone in a vulnerable state, who needed to believe there was a metaphysical solution for their problems, got served up a hoax.

Desperation could mold truth out of any lie. And even if it was from a well-intended source, there was a cruelty to the false promise of help.

With a nod, Tallah took a sip from her cup. Then she sat back, holding the tea between her gnarled hands as if they were cold. “I thought that my losing my station would be the lowest ebb of my life. But watching all that you have endured these past few years . . . it surmounts even my saddest moments. How could I not help you?”

Mae had never asked for specifics, but at one point, Tallah had been at the highest level of the aristocracy, mated unto a member of the Council. Mae’s mahmen, Lotty, had worked for her as a maid. Something had happened, though, and when Tallah had come here, Lotty had insisted on cleaning the house for free on the side—and soon enough, the whole family was involved in taking care of the older female.

How ironic that that fall from grace had ultimately saved the female’s life. If she had still lived in that grand house? She would have been killed during the raids on the property, just as Mae’s parents had been.

“The Reverend’s real name is Rehvenge,” Tallah said. “He is a member of the glymera—or was. I’m not exactly sure how many are even left the now. As I told you, I knew his mahmen very well. She used the Book herself once, and she told me of its power. That is how I first learned of it. It will provide you with what you need. I swear this on what little is left of mine own life.”

Mae ducked her eyes. “Don’t talk like that.”