Lover Eternal

CHAPTER 23

Rhage stalked around the living room, trying to work off the burn. It had been hard enough to keep his body in check before he'd put his mouth on her. Now that his tongue knew her taste, his spine was on fire, the burn spreading out to every muscle he had. His skin tingled all over, itching so badly he wanted to take sandpaper to it.

As he rubbed his arms, his hands shook uncontrollably.

God, he had to get away from the scent of her sex. The sight of her. The knowledge that he could take her right now because she'd let him.

"Mary, I have to be alone for a little while." He glanced at the bathroom door. "I'm going to go in there. If anyone comes to the house or you hear anything unusual, I want you to get me immediately. But I won't be long."

He didn't look at her as he closed the door.

In the mirror over the sink, his pupils glowed white in the darkness.

Oh, Jesus, he couldn't let himself change. If the beast got loose…

Terror for Mary's safety sent his heart on a sprint that only made the situation worse.

Fuck. What was he going to do? And why was this happening? Why—

Stop it. Just stop the thinking. Stop the panic. Get your internal engine back into idle. Then you can worry all you want.

He put the toilet lid down and sat on it, resting his hands on his knees. He forced his muscles to relax then focused on his lungs. Drawing in breath through his nose and exhaling out his mouth, he concentrated on keeping his respiration good and slow.

In and out with the breath. In and out with the breath.

The world receded until all sounds and sights and smells were shut out and there was only his breath.

Only his breath.

Only his breath.

Only his…

When he'd calmed down, he opened his eyes and lifted his hands. The trembling was gone. And a quick check in the mirror showed that his pupils were black again. He propped his arms on the sink and sagged into them.

Ever since he'd been cursed, sex had been a predicable tool that helped him deal with the beast. When he took a female, he'd become stimulated enough to make it to the release he needed, but the arousal never rose to the level where the beast was triggered. Not by a long shot.

With Mary, though, all bets were off. He didn't think he could control himself enough to enter her, much less make it to orgasm. That damn vibration she called out of him shot his sex drive straight into danger land.

He took a deep breath. The only saving grace appeared to be that he could get himself back under wraps quickly. If he got away from her, if he marshaled his nervous system, he was able to beat the feeling down to a manageable intensity. Thank God.

Rhage used the toilet, then washed his face in the sink and dried off with a hand towel. When he opened the door, he braced himself. He had a feeling that when he saw Mary again, the feeling would return a little.

It did.

She was sitting on the couch dressed in khakis and a fleece. The candlelight amplified the anxiety in her face.

"Hey," he said.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He rubbed his jaw. "Sorry about that. Sometimes I need a minute."

Her eyes widened.

"What?" he asked.

"It's almost six. You've been in there for nearly eight hours."

Rhage cursed. So much for a quick fix. "I didn't know I was gone for that long."

"I, ah, I checked in on you once or twice. I was worried… Anyway, someone called for you. Roth?"

"Wrath?"

"That's the name. Your phone kept ringing and ringing. Eventually I answered it." She looked down at her hands. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I am now."

She took a deep breath and let it out. The exhale did nothing to ease the set of her shoulders.

"Mary, I…" Damn it, what exactly could he tell her that wasn't going to make things harder for her?

"It's okay. Whatever happened, it's okay."

He came over to the couch and sat down next to her.

"Listen, Mary, I want you to come with me tonight. I want to take you somewhere that I know you'll be safe. The lessers, those things in the park, are probably gunning for you, and they'll look here first. You're a target now because you were with me."

"Where would we go?"

"I want you to stay with me." Assuming Wrath let them in the door. "It's too dangerous for you here, and if the slayers are going to come for you, it's going to be soon. We're talking tonight. Come with me for a few days until we figure out what to do."

Longer-term solutions evaded him at the moment, but he would find them. She'd become his responsibility when he got her mixed up in his world, and he wasn't going to leave her undefended.

"Trust me on this. Just a couple days."

Mary packed a bag, thinking she was crazy. Heading to God knew where. With a vampire.

But the thing about Rhage was, she had faith in him. He was too honest to lie and too smart to underestimate the threat. Besides, her appointments with the specialists didn't start up until Wednesday afternoon. And she'd taken the week off from work as well as been discharged from the hotline. There was nothing she would miss.

When she came back down to the living room, he turned toward her, swinging the duffel over one shoulder. She eyed his black suit jacket, seeing bulges in it she hadn't thought were significant before.

"Are you armed? she asked.

He nodded.

"With what?" When he just looked at her, Mary shook her head. "You're right. Probably better that I don't know. Let's go—"

They drove in silence down Route 22 into the dead zone between Caldwell's rural edges and the beginnings of the next large town. This was hilly, woodland country with nothing but long stretches of forest between the occasional rotting double-wide at the side of the road. There were no streetlights, few cars, and a lot of deer.

About twenty minutes after they'd left her house, he turned off onto a cramped one-laner that took them on a gradual ascent. She scanned what the headlights revealed, but couldn't discern where they were. Oddly, there didn't seem to be any identifying features to the forest or the road. In fact, the landscape had a fuzzy quality to it, a buffering that she couldn't explain and couldn't override no matter how much she blinked.

From out of nowhere a set of black iron gates appeared.

As Mary jumped in her seat, Rhage hit a garage door opener, and the heavy gates split in half, allowing them just enough space to squeeze through. Immediately they confronted another set. He put down his window and punched a code into an intercom. A pleasant voice welcomed him and he looked up and to the left, nodding to a security camera.

The second pair of gates parted and Rhage accelerated up a long, ascending drive. When they rounded a corner, a twenty-foot-tall masonry wall materialized in the same conjured-up manner of the first gateway. After going under an archway and passing through yet another set of barricades, they came into a courtyard with a fountain in the middle.

To the right, there was a four-story mansion made of gray stone, the kind of place you'd see in promos for horror films: Gothic, gloomy, oppressive, with more shadows than a person felt safe being around. Across the way, there was a small, one-story house with the same Wes Craven feel.

Six cars, mostly of expensive European flavors, were parked in an orderly fashion. Rhage plugged the GTO into a spot between an Escalade and a Mercedes.

Mary got out and craned her neck up at the mansion. She felt as though she were being watched, and she was. From the roof, gargoyles stared down at her, and so did security cameras.

Rhage came over, her overnight bag in his hand. His mouth was tight, his eyes intense.

"I'm going to take care of you. You know that, right?" As she nodded, he smiled a little. "It's going to be fine, but I want you to stick close by me. I don't want us separated. That clear? You stay with me no matter what happens."

Reassurance coupled with a command, she thought. This was not going to be fine.

They walked up to a pair of weathered bronze doors and he opened one side. After they'd stepped into a windowless vestibule, the great panel clamped shut with a reverberation that came up through her shoes. Directly ahead there was another massive set of doors, these made of wood and carved with symbols. Rhage punched a code into a keypad and there was the shifting sound of a lock coming free. He took her arm firmly and opened the second door into a vast foyer.

Mary gasped. How… magical!

The lobby was a rainbow of color, as unexpected as a garden blooming in a cave. Green malachite columns alternated with ones made of claret marble, the lengths rising up from a multi-hued mosaic floor. The walls were brilliant yellow and hung with gold-framed mirrors and crystal-strung sconces. The ceiling, three stories up, was a masterpiece of artwork and gold leafing, the scenes depicting heroes and horses and angels. And up ahead, centered among all the grandeur, was a broad staircase that ascended to a balconied second floor.

It was Russian-tsar beautiful… but the sounds of the place were not exactly formal and elegant. From the room on the left, hard-core rap music pumped and deep male voices carried. Pool balls cracked into each other. Someone yelled, "Go long, cop!"

A football sailed into the foyer and a muscular man came shooting out after it. He leaped up and just had his hands on the thing when an even bigger guy with a lion's mane of hair slammed into him. The two of them went down to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, sliding hard into the wall.

"I got you good, cop."

"But you don't have the ball yet, vampire."

Grunts, laughter, and juicy curses carried up to that ornate ceiling as the men fought for the football, flipping each other over, sitting on each other's chests. Two more huge guys in black leather jogged out to check on the action. And then a little old man dressed in tails emerged from the right, carrying a bouquet of fresh flowers in a crystal vase. The butler stepped around the wrestling match with an indulgent smile.

Then everything went silent as they all noticed her at once.

Rhage shuffled her behind his body.

"Son of a bitch," someone said.

One of the men came at Rhage like a tank. His dark hair was clipped into a military brush cut, and Mary had the oddest sense she'd seen him before.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Rhage spread his stance, dropped her bag, and brought his hands up to chest level. "Where's Wrath?"

"I asked you a question," the other guy snapped. "What are you doing, bringing her here?"

"I need Wrath."

"I told you to get rid of her. Or do you expect one of us to do your job?"

Rhage met the man chin-to-chin. "Careful, Tohr. Don't make me hurt you."

Mary glanced behind her. The door to the vestibule was still open. And right now waiting in the car while Rhage sorted things out seemed like a really good idea. Stick-together rule notwithstanding.

As she backed away, she kept her eyes on him. Until she bumped against something hard.

She wheeled around. Looked up. And lost her voice.

What was blocking her escape had a scarred face, black eyes, and an aura of stone-cold anger.

Before she could bolt in fear, he took her arm and spun her away from the door.

"Don't even think about running." Flashing long fangs, he measured her body. "Funny, you're not his usual type. But you're alive and pants-pissing terrified. So you'll do fine for me."

Mary screamed.

Every head in the foyer turned. Rhage lunged for her, pulling her away, bringing her tight against his body. He spoke harshly, in the language she didn't understand.

The scarred man narrowed his eyes. "Easy there, Hollywood. Just keeping your little plaything in the house. You going to share her or be selfish like you usually are?"

Rhage looked as if he were about to lash out when a woman's voice cut him off.

"Oh, for God's sake, boys! You're scaring her."

Mary glanced around Rhage's chest and saw a woman coming down the stairway. She looked completely normal: Long black hair, blue jeans, white turtleneck. A black cat was purring like a sewing machine in her arms. As she marched through the thicket of men, they all got out of her way.

"Rhage, we're glad you made it home safely. And Wrath is coming down in a minute." She pointed to the room the men had come out of. "The rest of you head back in there. Go on, now. If you're going to crack some balls, do it on the pool table. Dinner's in a half hour. Butch, take the football with you, okay?"

She shooed them from the foyer like they weren't hard-nosed badasses. The only guy who stayed was the one with the brush cut.

He was calmer now as he looked at Rhage. "This is going to have repercussions, my brother."

Rhage's face hardened and they broke into their secret language.

The black-haired woman came up to Mary, all the while stroking the cat's throat. "Don't worry. Everything's going to be okay. I'm Beth, by the way. And this is Boo."

Mary took a deep breath, instinctively trusting this lone feminine outpost in what was a jungle of testosterone.

"Mary. Mary Luce."

Beth offered her the petting hand and smiled.

More fangs.

Mary felt the floor underneath her shift.

"I think she's going over," Beth shouted while reaching forward. "Rhage!"

Strong arms came around her waist as her knees buckled.

The last thing she heard before blacking out was Rhage saying, "I'm taking her up to my room."

As Rhage laid Mary out on his bed, he willed on a soft light. Oh, God, what had he done, bringing her to the compound?

When she stirred and opened her eyes, he said, "You're safe here."

"Yeah, right."

"I'll make it safe for you, how about that?"

"Now I believe you." She smiled a little. "Sorry about going over like I did. I'm not usually a fainter."

"It's perfectly understandable. Look, I have to go meet with my brothers. You see that steel lock on the door? I'm the only one who has a key, so you'll be secure here."

"Those guys were not happy to see me."

"That's their problem." He brushed her hair back, tucking it behind both her ears. He wanted to kiss her, but stood up instead.

She looked so right in his big bed, nestled in the mountain of pillows he insisted on sleeping with. He wanted her there tomorrow and the day after and…

This wasn't a mistake, he thought. This was right where she belonged.

"Rhage, why are you doing all this for me? I mean, you don't really owe me anything, and you hardly know me."

Because you're mine, he thought.

Keeping that little ditty to himself, he bent down and stroked her cheek with his forefinger. "This won't take long."

"Rhage—"

"Just let me take care of you. And don't worry about a thing."

He shut the door behind him and turned the lock before going down the hall. The brothers were waiting at the head of the stairs, Wrath at the front of the group. The king looked grim, black eyebrows buried behind his sunglasses.

"Where do you want to do this?" Rhage asked.

"My study."

After they'd filed into the formal room, Wrath went behind the desk and sat down. Tohr followed him, standing behind him and to his right. Phury and Z settled against a silk-covered wall. Vishous sat in one of the wing chairs next to the fireplace and lit up a hand-rolled.

Wrath shook his head. "Rhage, man, we got serious problems here. You violated a direct order. Twice. Then you drag a human into this house, which you know is forbidden—"

"She's in danger—"

Wrath slammed his fist into the desk, making the whole thing jump off the floor. "You really don't want to interrupt me right now."

Rhage worked his molars, grinding, biting. He forced the words of respect he usually offered freely. "I meant no offense, my lord."

"As I was saying, you disobeyed Tohr, and compounded the offense by showing up with a human. What the hell are you thinking? I mean, shit, you're not an idiot, in spite of how you're behaving. She's from the other world, so she's rank exposure for us. And you have to know her memories are both long-term and traumatic by now. She is permanently compromised."

Rhage felt a growl condense in his chest and he just couldn't suck it back. The sound permeated the room like an odor. "She will not be killed over this."

"Yeah, see, that's not your call. You made it mine when you brought her onto our turf."

Rhage barred his fangs. "Then I'll leave. I'll leave with her."

Wrath's brows popped up over his wraparounds. "Now's not the time for threats, my brother."

"Threats? I'm dead fucking serious!" He calmed himself down by rubbing his face and trying to breathe. "Look, last night the two of us were jumped by multiple lessers. She got jacked and I left at least one of those slayers alive while trying to save her. She lost her purse in the process, and if any of those lessers survived, you know they've picked up the damn thing. Even if I wipe her memories clean, her house is not secure and I'm not going to let her be taken out by the Society. If she and I can't stay here, and the only way I can protect her is by disappearing with her, then that's what I'm going to do."

Wrath frowned. "You realize you're choosing a female over the Brotherhood."

Rhage exhaled. Jesus. He hadn't expected the situation to come down to that. But he guessed it had.

Unable to stay in place, he went over to one of the windows that ran from floor to ceiling. Looking outside, he saw the terraced gardens, the swimming pool, the vast rolling lawn. But he didn't focus on the manicured landscape. What he saw was the protection the compound offered.

Security lights illuminated the vista. Cameras mounted in trees recorded every passing moment. Motion sensors monitored each colorful leaf that fell to the ground. And if anyone tried to surmount that wall, they'd do a meet-and-greet with 240 volts of good night, Grade.

This was the safest environment for Mary. Bar none.

"She's not just any female to me," he murmured. "I would have her as my shellan, if I could."

Someone cursed while several others inhaled sharply.

"You don't even know her," Tohr pointed out. "And she's a human."

"So."

Wrath's voice was low, insistent. "Rhage, man, don't pull out of the Brotherhood over this. We need you. The race needs you."

"Then it looks like she's staying here, doesn't it?" When Wrath muttered something vile, Rhage turned to him. "If Beth were in danger, would you let anything stand in your way of protecting her? Even the Brotherhood?"

Wrath rose from the chair and came around the desk in a full stalk. He stopped when they were chest-to-chest.

"My Beth has nothing to do with the choices you've made or the situation you've put all of us in. Contact with humans is to be limited and on their territory only, you know that. And no one lives in this house except brothers and their shellans, if they have them."

"What about Butch?"

"He's the sole exception. And he's only allowed because V dreams of him."

"But Mary won't be here for forever."

"How you figure that? You think the Society's going to give up? You think humans will suddenly become tolerant as a race? Get real."

Rhage dropped his voice, but not his eyes. "She's sick, Wrath. She's got cancer. I want to take care of her, and not just because of this lesser nightmare."

There was a long silence.

"Shit, you've bonded with her." Wrath put a hand through his long hair. "For God's sake… You just met her, my brother."

"And how long did it take you to mark Beth as your own? Twenty-four hours? Oh, right, you waited two days. Yeah, good tiling you gave it some time."

Wrath let out a short laugh. "You gotta keep bringing my shellan into it, don't you?"

"Look, my lord, Mary is… different to me. I'm not going to pretend I understand why. All I know is, she's a pounding in my chest that I can't ignore… hell, that I don't want to ignore. So the idea of leaving her at the mercy of the Society is simply not an option. When it comes to her, every protective instinct I have goes into overdrive and I can't push that shit aside. Even for the Brotherhood."

Rhage fell silent and minutes passed. Hours. Or maybe it was just a couple of heartbeats.

"If I allow her to stay here," Wrath said, "it's only because you see her as your mate and only if she can keep her yap shut. And we still have to deal with the fact that you violated those orders from Tohr. I can't let that go. I've got to bring it to the Scribe Virgin."

Rhage sagged in relief. "I'll accept any repercussions."

"So be it." Wrath went back to the desk and sat down. "We've got some other things to talk about, my brothers. Tohr, you're up."

Tohrment came forward.

"Bad news. We heard from a civilian family. Male, ten years out of his transition, disappeared last night from the downtown area. I've sent a blast e-mail to the community informing everyone that they should use extra caution when going out and that anyone who's missing needs to be reported to us immediately. Also, Butch and I have been talking. The cop's got a good head on his shoulders. Any of you have a problem if I bring him in on a little of our business?" When there were a number of shaking heads, Tohr focused on Rhage. "Now tell us what happened last night in the park."

After Rhage left, and when she felt steady enough to stand, Mary slid off the bed and checked the door. It was locked and solid, so she felt fairly safe. When she saw a light switch to the left, she hit it, illuminating the room.

Holy… house of Windsor.

Silk drapery hung from the windows in swaths of red and gold. Satin and velvet adorned a huge antique Jacobean bed, the posts of which must have been made out of whole oak trunks. There was an Aubusson rug on the floor, oil paintings on the walls—

Good lord, was that Madonna and Child really a Rubens?

But it wasn't all Sotheby's stuff. There was a plasma-screen TV, enough stereo equipment to carry off a Super Bowl half-time show, a NASA-worthy computer. And an Xbox on the floor.

She wandered over to the bookshelves, where leather-bound volumes in foreign languages stood straight and proud. She scanned the titles with appreciation until she ran into a collection of DVDs.

Oh, the humanity.

The Austin Powers boxed set. Aliens and Alien. Jaws. All three Naked Guns. Godzilla. Godzilla. Godzilla… wait, the rest of this whole shelf was Godzilla. She went one lower. Friday the 13th, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street. Well, at least he hadn't bothered with the sequels to those. Caddy-shack. The Evil Dead boxed set.

It was a wonder Rhage hadn't blinded himself with all that pop culture.

Mary went into the bathroom and flipped on the lights. A Jacuzzi the size of her living room was set into the marble floor.

Now that's a true thing of beauty, she thought.

She heard the door open and was relieved when Rhage called her name.

"I'm in here checking out your tub." She walked back to the bedroom. "What happened?"

"Everything's cool."

You sure about that? she wanted to ask. Because he was tense and preoccupied as he went into a walk-in closet.

"Don't worry, you can stay here."

"But…?"

"No buts."

"Rhage, what's going on?"

"I need to go out with my brothers tonight." He came back without his suit coat on and led her over to the bed, pulling her down next to him as he sat. "The doggen, our servants, know you're here. They're incredibly loyal and friendly, nothing to be scared of. Fritz, who runs this house, will be bringing you up some food in a little bit. If you need anything, just ask him. I'll be back at dawn."

"Am I going to be locked in here until then?"

He shook his head and stood up.

"You're free to move around the house. No one will touch you." He took a piece of paper out of a leather box and wrote on it. "Here's my cell number. You call me if you need me and I can be back in a moment."

"You got a transporter hiding somewhere around here?"

Rhage looked at her and disappeared.

Not as in left-the-room-really-fast disappeared. But poof! disappeared.

Mary leaped off the bed, holding in a shout of alarm with her hand.

Rhage's arms came around her from behind. "In a moment."

She grabbed on to his wrists, squeezing the bones to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

"That's a hell of trick." Her voice was thin. "What else do you have under your hat?"

"I can turn things on and off." The room plunged into darkness. "I can light candles." Two of them flared on his dresser. "And I'm handy with locks and stuff."

She heard the latch on the door click back and forth, and then the closet opened and shut.

"Oh, and I can do something really great with my tongue and a cherry stem."

He dropped a kiss on the side of her neck and headed into the bathroom. The door shut and she heard the shower come on.

Mary stayed frozen in place, her mind skipping like a needle on an LP record. Eyeing the DVD collection, she decided there was something to be said for escapism. Especially when a person had had too much weirdness, too many reorientations to reality, too much… everything.

When Rhage came out a while later, shaved, smelling of soap, a towel around his hips, she was propped up on the bed, Austin Powers Goldmember on the TV.

"Hey, this is a classic." He smiled and watched the screen.

She forgot all about the movie as she looked at those wide shoulders, the muscles of his arms, the towel following the form of his ass. And the tattoo. That twisting, fierce creature with the white eyes.

" Twins, Basil, twins, " Rhage said with perfect timing and intonation.

He winked at her and went into the closet.

Against her better instincts, she followed after him, and leaned on one of the jambs, trying to look casual. Rhage's back was to her as he pulled on a pair of black leather pants, commando. The tattoo moved with him as he did up the fly.

A soft sigh escaped her mouth. What a man. Vampire. Whatever.

He glanced over his shoulder. "You okay?"

Actually, she was feeling hot all over.

"Mary?"

"I'm fine and dandy." Dropping her eyes, she took consuming interest in the collection of shoes lined up on the floor. "Actually I'm going to self-medicate with your movie collection until I'm in a culture coma."

As he bent down to put his socks on, her eyes latched back onto his skin. All that bare, smooth, golden—

"About the sleeping arrangements," he said. "I'll just crash on the floor."

But she wanted to be in that big bed with him, she thought.

"Don't be silly, Rhage. We're both adults. And that thing is wide enough to sleep six."

He hesitated. "All right. I promise not to snore."

And how about not keeping your hands to yourself, either?

He pulled on a black short-sleeved shirt and pushed his feet into a pair of shitkickers. Then he paused, eyeing a floor-to-ceiling metal cabinet that was set into the closet wall.

"Mary, why don't you go back outside? I need a minute. Okay?"

She flushed and turned away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy—"

He took her hand. "It's not that. You just might not like what you see next."

As if there was much left that could shock her after today?

"Go ahead," she murmured. "Do… whatever."

Rhage stroked her wrist with his thumb then opened the metal cabinet. He took out an empty black leather chest holster and put it on across his shoulders, securing it under his pecs. A wide belt was next, like the kind cops wore, but as with the holster, there was nothing in it.

He looked at her. And then brought out the weapons.

Two long, black-bladed daggers, which he sheathed at his chest, handles down. A shiny handgun that he checked for bullets with fast, sure movements before anchoring it at his hip. Flashing martial-arts stars and matte-black ammunition clips that he tucked into the belt. Another, smaller knife he hid somewhere.

He took his black leather trench coat off a hanger and swung it on, patting the pockets. He pulled out another handgun from the weapons cabinet and assessed it quickly before burying it in the leather folds. He put a few more throwing stars in the coat's pockets. Added another dagger.

When he faced her, she backed away.

"Mary, don't look at me like I'm a stranger. It's still me under, all this."

She didn't stop until she hit the bed. "You are a stranger," she whispered.

His face tightened and his voice grew flat. "I'll be back before dawn."

He left without any hesitation.

Mary didn't know how long she sat and stared at the carpet. But when she looked up, she went over and grabbed the phone.