Home > Books > Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood #20)(108)

Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood #20)(108)

Author:J.R. Ward

He checked out her laundry machines, and looked behind the couch even though there was only an inch between it and the concrete wall. Inspected the furnace and the water heater. Even opened the electrical panel.

“My contractor really wanted me to throw some Sheetrock over the mechanicals and put in a proper dropped ceiling.” She shrugged even though his eyes weren’t on her. “But I’m cheap by nature.”

She’d also known about halfway through the painting and flooring that the real goal of the reno was not going to be reached, no matter how many pipes and electrical wires were covered.

“So what’s the plan,” she said.

When he just shook his head, she wasn’t surprised. They’d gone through all the rooms, checked all the closets, and made sure all windows and doors were locked. But his grim expression hadn’t improved and that duffle bag of weapons he’d brought with him suggested he was no more comfortable than he’d been before they’d started clearing each level.

“We’re going to stay down here.” He went over and put the cache of guns by the couch. “Until I get word back from the Brotherhood.”

“The Brotherhood?”

“My buddies.”

She had an image of that goateed male with the tattoos at his temple, and the other stockier one. Then she remembered the shadow from the bookshop.

“Okay. We’ll stay down here.”

He nodded. And then paced over to the washer.

As he turned around, for some reason she realized he still had that towel wrapped around his waist. With the gun in his hand, he looked like a fitness model who had decided to embrace his inner Sons of Anarchy.

And what do you know, now that they were relatively safe, her eyes cased his body and she thought about how it had felt to be under him—which she supposed was proof that procreation was part of the survival instinct: Given the danger they were in, sex should be the last thing on her mind. But humans hadn’t made it five million years as a species because their libidos were shy about attraction, regardless of the circumstance.

Plus… he was a vampire.

Somehow, that little revelation had gotten lost with the threat that had yet to materialize. And shouldn’t that whole different species stuff bother her? Shouldn’t the existence of them make her rethink everything? Shouldn’t the fact that the pair of them had almost had sex shock her?

Nope, she thought as she measured the smooth, hairless expanse of his chest. That would be a big fat nope, at least for the sex part.

Hell, with abs like that, he could have been a Chevy Tahoe and she’d want to jump him.

“Ordinarily,” he said as he turned to the stairs, “I’m not much for rule following. But when it’s a direct order from someone I respect, I’m in.”

“Do you think it’s shadows? Like what was in that bookshop?”

“Can’t say.” He seemed to bite down on his molars, the hollows in his cheeks becoming more pronounced. “Don’t know. And it’s making me mental. I can feel something, I just can’t see it.”

Then he looked at her. Tilted his head. Smiled a little. “You know, you’re handling this really well.”

“Am I?” she murmured, not sure of that at all.

“Absolutely.” He smiled more widely. “Come on, when was the last time you had a vampire in your basement?”

God… he was incredible. He was a strange, mystical presence that was overwhelming and yet not scary. And it was bizarre… she hadn’t known him—consciously known him—for more than a week… but she could not imagine not having him in her life. In contrast to all the people she worked with on her job, the folks she knew in Caldwell, the friends she’d made in college, this man, male, whatever he was, was irreplaceable.

She couldn’t fathom not seeing him. Not having him here in her home—

Erika gasped.

“What is it?” he asked.

When she couldn’t respond, he strode over and took her free hand. “Are you all right.”

She glanced around her pathetically “finished” cellar. Thought of the floor above them with her mismatched furniture. Pictured her bedroom up on the second floor.

Shifting her eyes to him, she had to blink away tears. How could she explain to him that ever since she was sixteen, she had lived in places that she refused to claim? And yet he’d been under this roof for how long?

And he’d turned it into a home.

“Come here,” he said as he drew her in against his bare chest.