Lover Avenged (Black Dagger Brotherhood 7)

She had to smile, thinking that he wasn't the kind of male who stuttered much. "Take my vein. Let me give you something."

Through his parted lips she saw his fangs elongate, not so much inching as punching out of his skull.

"I'm not sure...whether that would be..." As his breath grew ragged, his voice got even deeper.

She put her hand to her neck and massaged her jugular slowly. "I think it's a great idea."

As his eyes glowed purple, she eased onto her back and cocked her head to the side, exposing her throat.

"Ehlena..." His eyes traveled down her body and returned to her neck.

He was panting and flushed now, a fine sheen of sweat slicking up what portion of his shoulders showed from out of the covers. And that wasn't the half of it. The scent of dark spices flared until it saturated the air, his internal chemistry reacting to the need he had for her and what she wanted to do for him.

"Oh...shit, Ehlena-"

Abruptly, Rehvenge frowned and looked down at himself. His hand, the one that had been tender on her cheek, disappeared under the covers and his expression changed: The heat and the purpose drained right out of it, leaving only a troubling kind of disgust.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "I'm sorry...I can't..."

Rehvenge scrambled off the bed and took the duvet with him, pulling it free from under her body. He moved fast-but not so quickly that she missed the fact that he had an erection.

He was hard. Big, long, hard as a thighbone.

And yet he disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door solidly.

Then locked it.

Chapter THIRTY

John told Qhuinn and Blay he was just going to crash in his room for the night, and when he was sure they'd bought the lie, he slipped out through the staff quarters of the house and went directly to ZeroSum.

He had to work fast, because sure as shit one of the two of them would check in on him and then form a damn search party.

Bypassing the front entrance of the club, he went around to the alley where he'd once seen Xhex crack the head of an ass**le with a big mouth and a fistful of coke. Finding the security camera above the side exit, John tilted up his head and stared into the lens.

When the door opened, he didn't have to look over to know it was her.

"You want to come in," she said.

He shook his head, for once not bothered by the communication barrier. Shit, he didn't know what to say to her. Didn't know why he was here. He just had to come.

Xhex stepped out of the club and put her back against the door, crossing one steel-toed boot over the other. "You tell anyone?"

He met her eyes steadily and shook his head.

"You going to?"

He shook his head.

In a soft tone, one he'd never heard from her or expected to, she whispered, "Why?"

He just shrugged. Frankly, he was surprised she hadn't tried to take his memories from him. Neater. Cleaner-

"I should have taken your memories," she said, making him wonder if she was reading his mind. "I was just f**ked in the head last night, and you left fast and I didn't do it. Of course, now they're long-term, so..."

This was why he came, he realized. He wanted to reassure her that he was going to keep quiet.

Tohr's departure had cemented the decision. When John had gone to talk with the Brother and found the guy had disappeared again, and without word again, something had shifted in him, like a boulder being rolled from one side of his yard to another, a permanent change in the landscape.

John was alone. And therefore his decisions were his own. He respected Wrath and the Brotherhood, but he wasn't a Brother and might well never be one. Sure, he was a vampire, but he'd spent most of his life outside of the race, so the symphath revulsion was something he'd never fully understood. Sociopaths? Hell, that shit started at home, as far as he was concerned, with the way Zsadist and V had acted before they'd mated.

John was not turning Xhex in to the king so she could get deported to that colony. No way.

Now her voice became hard. "So what do you want."

Given the kind of bottom-feeding, opportunistic, desperate people she had to deal with night in and night out, he was not at all surprised by the demand.

Holding her stare, he shook his head and made a cutting motion over his throat. Nothing, he mouthed.

Xhex looked at him with cold gray eyes, and he felt her get into his head, sensing the push against his thoughts. He let her probe to see where he was at, because that more than any words he might have spoken would be what reassured her most.

"You're one in a million, John Matthew," she said quietly. "Most people would leverage the shit out of this. Especially given the kind of vices I can get serviced here at the club."

He shrugged.

"So where you headed tonight? And where are your boys?"

He shook his head.

"You want to talk about Tohr?" As his eyes shot to hers, she said, "Sorry, but he's on your mind."

As John shook his head again, something touched his cheek and he looked up. Snow was starting to come down, little, tiny flakes swirling in the wind.

"First snowfall of the year," Xhex said, standing up away from the door. "And you without a coat."

He glanced down and realized all he had on was jeans and a Nerdz T-shirt. At least he'd remembered to put shoes on.

Xhex put her hand in her pocket and held something out to him. A key. A small brass key.

"I know you don't want to go home, and I have a place not far from here. It's secure and underground. Go there if you want, stay however long you need to. Get the privacy you're looking for until your shit's together."

He was about to shake his head no when she said in the Old Language, "Let me do right by you in this way."

He took the key without brushing her hand and mouthed, Thank you.

After she gave him the address, he left her in that alley with the snow drifting down from the night sky. As he got to Trade, he looked over his shoulder. She was still by the side door, watching him with arms crossed and boots planted solidly on the ground.

The delicate flakes landing in her short dark hair and on her bare, hard shoulders didn't soften her a bit. She was no angel doing a kindness to him for simple reasons. She was dark and dangerous and unpredictable.

And he loved her.

John lifted his hand in a wave and turned the corner, joining a parade of huddled humans who were walking quickly from bar to bar.

Xhex stayed where she was even as John's big body disappeared out of sight.

One in a million, she thought once again. That kid was one in a million.

As she went back in the club, she knew it was only a matter of time before his two buddies, or maybe members of the Brotherhood, showed up to try to find him. Her response was going to be that she hadn't seen him and didn't have a clue where he was.

Period.

He protected her; she protected him.

End of.

She was heading out of the VIP section when her earpiece went off. After her bouncer stopped talking she cursed and lifted up her watch to speak into the transistor. "Take him to my office."

After she was sure the floor was clear of the working girls, she entered the general-population part of the club and watched as Detective de la Cruz was led through the throng of clubbers.

"Yes, Qhuinn?" she said without turning around.

"Christ, you must have eyes in the back of your skull."

She glanced over her shoulder. "And you should keep that in mind."

John's ahstrux nohstrum was the kind of male most females wanted to f**k. And a lot of the guys, too. He had the black-on-black thing rocking, between his Affliction shirt and his biker jacket, but his style was all over the place. Grommet belt and the roll on the cuffs of his beat-to-shit jeans spanked of The Cure. The spiked black hair and the piercing of his lip and the seven black studs working their way up his left ear were emo. Four-inch-soled New Rocks were Goth. Tats on the neck were Hart amp; Huntington-ish.

As for the concealed weapons she knew damn well were packed under his arms? They were straight-up Rambo, and those fists hanging at his sides were all about the MMA.

The whole package, regardless of the derivation of the components, was sex, and from what she'd seen at the club, up until recently he'd capitalized on the appeal. To the point where those private bathrooms in the back had been like his home office.

After getting promoted to John's personal guard, though, he'd slowed his roll. "What's doing," she said.

"John been in here?"