Black Dagger Brotherhood - Lover Eternal Part 59

"Your name?"

"Mary. She named me after the Virgin Mary."

Rhage's breath caught. And then he laughed softly."What's so funny?"

His eyes were a bright, shining teal blue. "Just that V... well, Vishous is never wrong. Oh, Mary, my beautiful virgin, will you let me love you for as long as I live? And when I go unto the Fade, will you come with me?"

"Yes." She stroked his cheek. "But does it bother you that I can't have your children?"

"Not in the slightest. I have you, that's all that matters."

"You know," she murmured, "there's always adoption. Do vampires ever adopt?"

"Just ask Tohrment and Wellsie. I can already tell they think of John as their own." Rhage smiled. "You want a baby, I'll get you one. And you know, I might be okay as a dad."

"I think you'll be more than okay."

When she bent down to kiss him, he stopped her. "Ah, there's just one other thing."

"What?"

"Well, we're stuck with the beast. I kind of bargained with the Scribe Virgin-"

Mary pulled back. "You bargained?"

"I had to do something to save you."

She stared at him, stunned, and then closed her eyes. He had set the wheels in motion; he had saved her.

"Mary, I had to trade something-"

She kissed him hard. "Oh, G.o.d, I love you," she breathed.

"Even if it means you're going to have to live with the beast? Because the curse is perpetual now. Set in stone. Forever."

"I told you, that's fine with me." She smiled. "I mean, come on. He's kind of cute, in a G.o.dzilla sort of way. And I'll look at it as a two-for-one kind of deal."

Rhage's eyes flashed white as he rolled her over and put his mouth on the side of her neck.

"I'm glad you like him," he murmured, his hands tugging up her shirt. "Because the two of us are yours. For as long as you'll have us."

"That would be eternally," she said as she let herself go.

And reveled in all the love.

Turn the page for a sneak peak at the story of Zs.a.d.i.s.t, the darkest vampire brother in the Black Dagger Brotherhood... Look for his book Lover Awakened in September 2006.

Twelve hours after having been rescued from the lessen by the Brotherhood, Bella looked around the opulent bedroom she'd been given and felt as if she had to transcribe what she was seeing. The safety she was surrounded by now seemed like another language, one she had forgotten how to speak or read.

She couldn't believe she'd really been saved. Or that she'd been brought to the Brotherhood's compound to recover.

In the corner of the room, the grandfather clock chimed. Now it was thirteen hours, she thought. Thirteen hours since the brothers had come for her and taken her from the earth back into the air.

She pulled the silk robe more tightly around her.

After G.o.d only knew how many weeks in that pipe in the ground, being free was alarming. It had been what she'd prayed for, and then given up any hope of, and she felt as though she should be rejoicing. The problem was that everything around her felt fake and insubstantial, especially given the luxury of this room: The heavy velvet drapes, the canopied bed, the museum-quality antiques should have been grounding in their stately beauty. Instead it was all papier-mache to her.

Only one thing felt real. And she had to find him.

Bella opened the door and put her head out. The hall was empty.

Which was perfect. She didn't want to be seen.

Slipping from the room, she glided over the oriental runner, making no sound at all in her bare feet. When she got to the head of the grand staircase, she paused, trying to remember which way to go.

The corridor with the statues, she thought, remembering another trip down that hall so many, many weeks ago.

She walked quickly and then ran, clutching the lapels of the robe and holding the slit on the bottom closed over her thighs. She pa.s.sed statues and doors until she remembered the right combination of the two.

As she stopped, she didn't bother to collect herself because she was uncollectible. She was loose, ungrounded, in danger of disintegration. She knocked loudly.

Through the door came a growl. "f.u.c.k off. I've crashed."

She turned the k.n.o.b and opened.

In the light from the hall, she watched as Zs.a.d.i.s.t sat up on a pallet of blankets that lay on the floor in the corner. He was naked, his muscles flexing, his nipple rings flashing silver. His fearsome face, with that scar, was full of aggression.

"I said, f.u.c.k off-Bella?" He covered himself with his hands. "Jesus Christ. What are you doing?"

Good question, she thought as her courage dimmed. "Can-can I stay here with you?'

He frowned as if she'd lost her mind. "What are you-No, you can't." He grabbed something off the floor and held it in front of his hips as he stood up. She drank in the sight of him: the tattooed slave bands around his wrists and neck, the plug in his left earlobe, his black eyes, his skull-trimmed hair. His body was as starkly lean as she remembered, all striated muscles and hard-cut veins. And he threw off raw power like a scent.

To her, he was utterly beautiful.

"Bella, get out of here, okay? This is not the place for you."

She ignored the command in his eyes and his voice. Because although her bravery was gone, desperation gave her strength. Now her voice no longer faltered.

"When I was so out of it in the car, you were behind the wheel." When he didn't respond, she said, "Yes, you were. That was you.

You spoke to me. You were the one who came for me, weren't you?"

He flushed. "The Brotherhood came for you."

"But you drove me away from there. And you brought me here first. To your room." When he stayed silent, she said, "Let me stay.

Please."

"Look, you need to be safe-"

"I am safe only with you. You saved me. You won't let them get me again."

"No one's getting you here. This place is wired like the G.o.dd.a.m.ned Pentagon."

"Please-"

"No," he snapped. "Now get the h.e.l.l out of here."

She started to shake, fear surging. "I can't be alone. Please let me stay with you. I need to..." She needed him specifically, but didn't think he'd respond well to that "I need to be with someone."

Zs.a.d.i.s.t ran his hand over his head. A number of times. Then his chest expanded.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't make me go."

He cursed. "I have to put some pants on."

That was as close to a yes as she was going to get, she thought.

Bella stepped inside and closed the door, lowering her eyes only for a moment. When she looked up again, he'd turned away and was pulling a pair of black nylon sweats up his thighs.

His back, with its streaks of scars, flexed as he bent over. Seeing the evidence of old wounds, she was struck with the need to know exactly what he'd been through. All of it. Each and every lash. The idea that he knew what it was like to be at the mercy of someone cruel was a powerful common thread.

He'd survived. So had she. They were... linked.

Zs.a.d.i.s.t walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back. Then he stood to one side. Awkwardly.

"Get in," he told her.

As she came forward, she noticed that he wore something around his neck- Oh, my G.o.d...

"My necklace. You're wearing my necklace."

She reached out to touch it against his skin, but he flinched away and removed the thing.

He dropped it in her hand. "Here. Take it back."

She looked down at the fragile gold and the little diamonds that were set every couple of inches. Diamonds by the Yard. By Tiffany. She'd worn it for years and now couldn't remember what it felt like against her throat.

Such a symbol of the normal life she'd led, she thought. And an opportunity to get back to herself.

She put it into the pocket of the robe, hiding it.

"Have you eaten?" he asked.

She moved a little closer to him. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the floor.

"Yes, Phury brought me food."

A flicker of expression pa.s.sed over Zs.a.d.i.s.t's face. But it was gone so fast she couldn't read it.

"Are you in pain?" he demanded.

"Not particularly."

Please look at me, she thought.

Except he didn't, so she got into the bed. When he leaned down, she scooched over to make room for him.

All he did was pull the covers over her and then go back to the corner, to the pallet on the floor.

Bella closed her eyes for a few minutes. Then she grabbed a pillow, slid out of the bed, and went over to him.

"What are you doing?" His voice was high. Alarmed.

She dropped her pillow next to him and lay down, easing onto the floor beside his big body. His scent was so much stronger now, smelling of evergreen and pine and distilled male power, and she sought the heat of him, inching closer until her forehead hit the back of his arm. He was so hard, like a stone wall that had been warmed by the sun.

Her body relaxed. Next to him she was able to feel the weight of her own bones, the hard floor underneath her, the currents in the room as the heat came on. His presence somehow helped her connect to the world around her again.

She pushed herself forward with her feet until she was flush against the side of him, from breast to heel.

As he trembled, she recalled that he couldn't bear to be touched, but she couldn't help herself. Not this day. Maybe tomorrow.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I need this from you. My body needs..." You. "Something warm."

Z shifted, moving away until he hit the wall. Then he abruptly leapt to his feet.

Oh, no. He was going to kick her out."Come on," he said gruffly. "We're going to the bed. I can't stand the idea of you on the floor."

J.R. Ward DARK LOVER.

The Debut Novel in the Black Dagger Brotherhood Series In the shadows of the night in Caldwell, New York, there's a deadly turf war going on between vampires and their slayers. There exists a secret band of brothers like no other-six vampire warriors, defenders of their race.

Yet none of them relishes killing more than Wrath, the leader of The Black Dagger Brotherhood.

The only purebred vampire left on earth, Wrath has a score to settle with the slayers who murdered his parents centuries ago.

But, when one of his most trusted fighters is killed-leaving his half-breed daughter unaware of his existence or her fate-Wrath must usher her into the world of the undead-a world of sensuality beyond her wildest dreams.

0-451-21695-4.

"A midnight whirlwind of dangerous characters and mesmerizing erotic romance. The Black Dagger Brotherhood owns me now.