Lover Eternal (Black Dagger Brotherhood 2)

He wished he could find Mary. He'd gone to her house the night before, only to find it dark and locked up. And she hadn't been going to the hotline. It was as if she'd disappeared, and worrying about her was one more reason he was twitchy.

As he approached his building, he saw a truck parked in front. The bed was full of boxes, like someone was moving in.

What a weird time of night to do that, he thought, eyeing the load.

As he saw that there was no one around to stand guard, he hoped the owner came back soon. Otherwise, their stuff was going to get disappeared.

John went into his building and up the stairs, ignoring the cigarette butts and the empty beer cans and the crumpled potato-chip bags. When he stepped off onto the second floor, he squinted. Something was spilled all over the corridor. Deep red...

Blood.

Backing up into the stairwell, he stared at his door. There was a sunburst in the center of it, as if someone had had their head... But then he saw the broken dark green bottle. Red wine. It was just red wine. The drunken couple who lived next door had taken another fight out into the hall.

His shoulders eased.

" 'Scuse me," someone said from above him.

He moved aside and looked up.

John's body seized.

The big man standing over him was dressed in black camouflage pants and a leather jacket. His hair and skin were utterly white, and his pale eyes had an eerie shine to them.

Evil. Undead.

Enemy.

This was his enemy.

"Some kind of mess you got on this floor," the guy said before narrowing his gaze on John. "Something wrong?"

John fiercely shook his head and dropped his eyes. His first instinct was to run to his apartment, but he didn't want the guy knowing where he lived.

There was a deep chuckle. "You look a little pale there, buddy."

John took off, shooting down the stairs and out into the street. He raced to the corner, took a left, and kept going. He ran and ran, until he couldn't go any farther because he'd lost his breath. Squeezing himself into the juncture between a brick building and a Dumpster, he panted.

In his dreams, he fought pale men. Pale men in black clothes whose eyes were soulless.

My enemy.

He was shaking so badly he could barely get his hand into his pocket. Taking out a quarter, he gripped the thing so tightly it dug into his palm. When he had his breath back, he leaned out and peered up and down the alley. There was no one around, no sounds of heavy feet hitting the asphalt.

His enemy hadn't recognized him.

John left the Dumpster's sanctuary and walked quickly to the far corner.

The dented pay phone was covered with graffiti, but he knew it worked because he called Mary from it a lot. He put the quarter in the slot and punched out the number Tohrment had given him.

After one ring, voice mail kicked in with a robotic recitation of the numbers he'd dialed.

John waited for the beep. And whistled.

Chapter Twenty-eight

It was right before dawn when Mary heard male voices out in the hall. As the door opened, her heart skipped in her chest. Rhage filled the frame as another guy spoke.

"Man, that was one hell of a fight as we left the bar. You were a demon out there."

"I know," Rhage muttered.

"You're incredible, Hollywood, and not just with the hand-to-hand. That female you - "

"Later, Phury."

The door shut and the closet light came on. By the sound of clicks and metallic shifting, he was disarming. When he came out, he took a shuddering breath.

Mary faked being asleep as his footsteps hesitated by the foot of the bed and then headed for the bathroom. When she heard the shower come on, she imagined everything he was washing off of himself: Sex. Fighting.

Especially the sex.

She covered her face with her hands. Today she would go home. She would pack her things and walk out the door. He couldn't make her stay; she wasn't his responsibility just because he said so.

The water shut off.

The silence sucked all the air from the room, and she grew out of breath while holding herself in place. Gasping, suffocating... she threw the covers back and bolted for the door. Her hands latched onto the knob and fought to free the lock, jerking, pulling, until her hair whipped around.

"Mary," Rhage said from right behind her.

She jumped and wrestled harder with the door.

"Let me out. I have to get out... I can't stay here in this room with you. I can't be here... with you." She felt his hands come down on her shoulders. "Don't touch me."

She careened around the room until she bounced into the far corner and realized there was nowhere to go and no way to get out. He was in front of the door, and she had a feeling he was keeping the locks in place.

Trapped, she linked her arms over her chest and propped herself up against the wall to keep standing. She didn't know what she would do if he touched her again.

Rhage didn't even try.

He sat on the bed, a towel around his hips, his hair damp. He dragged a hand down his face, across his jaw. He looked like hell, but his body was still the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She pictured the hands of other women grabbing on to those powerful shoulders, just as she had. She saw him pleasuring other bodies as he had hers.

She was torn between wanting to thank God she hadn't slept with him, and being pissed off that after all the women he'd done, he refused to have sex with her.

"How many?" she demanded, the words so hoarse they barely carried. "And tell me, was it good for you? I don't have to ask whether they liked it. I know how talented you are."

"Sweet... Mary," he whispered. "If you'd let me hold you, I would. God, I would kill just to hold you right now."

"You are never coming near me again. Now how many were there? Two? Four? A six-pack?"

"Do you really want the details?" His voice was soft, sad to the point of cracking. Abruptly his head dropped down and hung loosely from his neck. For all appearances, he looked like a ruined man. "I can't... I'm not going out like that again. I'll find another way."

"Another way to get off?" she snapped. "You sure as hell won't be sleeping with me, so are you thinking about using your hand, maybe?"

He took a deep breath. "That design. On my back? It's part of me."

"Whatever. I'm leaving here today."

His head twisted toward her. "No, you aren't."

"Yes, I am."

"I'll give you this room. You won't have to see me. But you aren't going anywhere."

"How are you going to keep me from leaving? Lock me in here?"

"If that's what it takes, yeah."

She recoiled. "You can't be serious."

"When's your next doctor's appointment?"

"That is none of your business."

"When?"

The hard anger in his voice cooled her temper down a little. "Ah... Wednesday."

"I'll make sure you get to that."

She stared at him. "Why are you doing this to me?"

His shoulders rose and fell. "Because I love you."

"Excuse me?"

"I love you."

Mary's control evaporated under a blast of fury so great she was rendered speechless. He loved her? He didn't know her. And he'd been with another... Her outrage boiled over as she pictured him having sex with someone else.

Suddenly Rhage sprang off the bed and came at her, as if he felt her emotions and was energized by them.

"I know you're angry, scared, hurting. Take it out on me, Mary." He grabbed her waist to keep her from running, but didn't stop her from trying to shove him away. "Use me to bear your pain. Let me feel it in my skin. Hit me if you have to, Mary."

Damn her to hell, she was tempted to. Lashing out seemed like the only recourse for the kind of power surging through her body.

But she was not an animal. "No. Now let go of me!"

He took her wrist and she struggled against the hold, throwing her whole body into the fight until her shoulder felt like it was going to pop. Rhage stilled her easily and flipped her hand around so her rigid, curled fingertips faced him.

"Use me, Mary. Let me bear this for you." With a flash of movement, he raked his chest with her nails and then clamped his palms on either side of her face.

"Make me bleed for you..." His mouth stroked against hers. "Let your anger go."

God help her, she bit him. Right on his lower lip. She just sank her teeth into his flesh.

As something sinfully delicious hit her tongue, Rhage moaned with approval and pressed his body against hers. A buzz, like she'd had too much chocolate, hummed through her.