Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“I just want to know what I’m angry about.” His eyes moved up and over her head. “I don’t know what it is. That’s a problem.”
Bitty tilted her head and studied the hard cut of his jaw. “You don’t know?”
“No. But it comes out sometimes.”
“When,” she said grimly. Even though she could guess. “It’s when you’re killing lessers, isn’t it… at the end, right before you stab them back to Lash.”
His brows popped and he recoiled a little.
“It’s okay. You can tell me about it.” When he stayed quiet, she reached out and put her hand on his forearm. “I’m not afraid of what you do, no matter how ugly it gets. Violence for protection’s sake does not scare me.”
His eyes searched her face. “You keep surprising me. I don’t get surprised.”
A flush went through her. “It’s just because you think you know me and you don’t. If you knew… where I come from, you would know that I’ve survived so much worse than the truth you live in and what you do to keep us all safe.”
Those eyebrows sank down low, making him look positively evil. “Who hurt you.”
Not a question. And she had the very clear thought that if her birth sire were still alive, L.W. would have hunted the male down and hurt him. Very badly.
“He’s dead.” She kicked her chin up. “My father killed him.”
“Good.”
“You don’t mean that,” she chided.
L.W. seemed surprised again. Then he laughed in a low rumble. “Are you always so honest?”
“Only when people try to hide. And you are too strong a male to have to take cover behind falsities.”
“Even if they’re for someone else’s benefit?”
“Not mine,” she countered. “You don’t have to buffer any kind of truth for me. I will say it again. I am not afraid of you.”
L.W. crossed his arms over his chest, his pecs flexing underneath his skintight muscle shirt. As the hollows under his cheekbones undulated, it was clear he was grinding his molars.
“You’re right,” he said after a moment. “I wish whoever hurt you was still alive.”
“So you could take him to his grave yourself.”
“Yeah.” He reached out and stroked back a streamer of hair from her face. “People like you shouldn’t be hurt.”
Dearest Lassiter, he was so close, and the proximity made her feel like she was seeing him for the first time. He was as his father was, as her adoptive sire was, as the members of the Black Dagger Brotherhood had always been: A killer. A predator.
Under the veil of what civilized him to some degree was an animal.
“No one should be hurt,” she intoned gravely.
His lips flattened in disagreement. “That’s a dangerous lie, Bitty. And if you know what I’m like and what I do, you know I’m right—”
All at once, her body stiffened, and her vision went dark as her eyes rolled back. The last thing she was aware of was her own voice, speaking in the Old Language:
“Be of care with thine anger, Little Wrath. Your wrath shall be the death of us all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I thought I’d check on you.”
As Nalla’s mahmen spoke up, Rahvyn backed off into the living room. And the female must have gone down to the basement because there was a clicking sound as a door was shut.
“Fresh cookies?” Bella asked as she hovered in the archway. “How nice. May I have one?”
Oddly, Nalla noticed the wool coat first. It was red and black, the colors alternating in big squares that shouldn’t have worked, but really did, especially with the red scarf around her neck and her black slacks. Her hair, which was a rich chestnut, was shiny and bouncy, cut in a long bob that no doubt would be left to grow out so that come spring it would be down between her shoulder blades and ready to be pulled back for the summer’s heat.
The female was tired. There were shadows under those blue eyes, and sadness in them, too.
Coming to attention, Nalla cleared her throat and pushed the plate forward on the counter. “Of course. There’s plenty.”
“They smell so good.”
Bella came forward and peeled off her coat. Laying the folds on the back of one of the chairs at the long table, she rubbed her bare hands together and seemed to force a smile.
“It’s cold tonight,” she said as she inspected the plate. “My cheeks are windburned and I wasn’t out on the porch for long at all.”
When her mahmen was done choosing, Nalla took a cookie for herself. So her fingers had something to futz with. “Winter’s gotten serious.”
“Sure has.” Bella broke her Toll House in half and took a test bite. “Oh, perfection—”
“I’m okay,” Nalla cut in, more brusquely than she’d intended. “They just need me to chip in here a little bit. It’s busy.”
Bella nodded. “Someone’s on maternity leave, right? I heard Mary talking about it the other night.”