Lover Unveiled (Black Dagger Brotherhood 19)

“Help me find the Book.”

Sahvage opened his mouth. Shut it.

“Please,” she said. “I know I haven’t been easy to get along with, and I apologize. I’ll do better with that, I promise. But the reality is . . . I do need your help. You’re right. I was wrong.”

When he looked away, and then stayed silent, she shook her head. “You came to that cottage tonight to help me, and now you won’t? After you followed me here, too?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You accused me of being a danger to you, remember? And you think I’m in a big hurry to play Good Samaritan just ’cuz you’ve had a come-to-Jesus revelation.”

“For what it’s worth,” she said dryly, “I do not think you’re Jesus.”

“And I may be in over my head as well. I’m not some magic solution to this.” He nodded to the closed door of the garage. “We’re facing shit even I haven’t seen before.”

“But you knew about the salt. And you know about other things, don’t you.” She took a deep breath. “Because you’re a member of the Black Dagger Brotherhood, aren’t you.”

Sahvage’s face froze into an absolute mask. “No. I’m not.”

“I saw the star-shaped scar on your pec. After you took your shirt off. I didn’t put it together right away, but that’s what the marking is, isn’t it.” She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t comment. “My brother used to study the Brotherhood. He told me about the scarification that every Brother has. I thought it was part of your injuries, but it’s not. And your name fits, too—”

“I’m not a member of the Brotherhood.”

“I don’t see why you can’t admit it.”

“Easy. Because it’s not true.” He shrugged. “I’m not lying to you, and besides, after that shadow attack, don’t you think I would have called in backup if I had it?”

Mae flattened her mouth. Then said, “Are you in or out with me.”

He stayed silent for a very long time, and though his eyes were on her, she had a feeling he wasn’t seeing her.

Just as she was deflating, as she had the sense that she had made too many mistakes with him, he said gruffly, “I’m in.”

“Thank God—”

“With one caveat.”

Mae narrowed her eyes and wondered how far he was going to go. “And what exactly is that.”

Are you sure we can’t pick up anything for you from where you stay?”

As Rhage made the offer to the female in the hooded robe, Nate was ready to volunteer for that trip, wherever it took him. Cross the state? Yeahsurefine. Cross the country? Yupsurething. The only trouble? He had a feeling that Elyn had no things to pick up. Or no place safe to get them from.

“No, thank you,” she said softly with that beautiful accent.

Elyn was sitting on a sofa that was so brand-new, the pillows were still in plastic—and she was as self-contained as those still-packed cushions. With her perfectly straight back, and her legs crossed at the ankles, and her hands linked in her lap, she was as proper a female as any in the glymera, her posture transforming that rough cloak into a ball gown.

Oh, and her hair wasn’t blond. In the true light, it was snow white, without any pigment at all, the long ends curling naturally as they drifted out of the hood’s confines.

“I’m really glad you’ll come stay with us at Safe Place today.” Mrs. Mary glanced at the social worker and looked back at Elyn. “And then I think Luchas House will fit your needs. We just need another twenty-four hours to get things set up and we’ll be ready for you.”

“Thank you,” Elyn said. “You have been most generous to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger.” Mrs. Mary shook her head. “We take care of people in the race who need help.”

“I do not know how I will pay you back.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

Well, Nate sure as hell would have volunteered to give his wages over. And he’d decided that one good bene about being on the sidelines of this conversation was that he had an excuse to stare at Elyn without being a creeper. The not-so-hot thing? He’d studied her expressions over the last half hour, and he knew that she was not buying into this housing plan as much as Mrs. Mary thought.

They might get one night out of her at Safe Place. Here, though? She wasn’t comfortable with that, even though she’d been assured there would be social workers and staff always around: He could tell by the way she did not meet Mrs. Mary’s eyes whenever Luchas House came up. At the moment—and tragically—Elyn was exhausted and hungry and cold. But she was going to run at nightfall tomorrow, and none of them were going to see her again.

“So let’s get going, shall we?” Mrs. Mary said as she stood up. “I’ll drive you to Safe Place—and hey, it’s cookie night.”