Lover Unbound

Chapter Forty-seven

As night fell John was underground in the gym, lined up with the rest of trainees, a dagger in his right hand, his feet planted in the ready position. When Zsadist whistled through his teeth, John and everyone else began to move through the exercise: Swipe the weapon across the chest, slice back at an angle, step forward, and stab up under the rib cage.
"John, stay sharp!"
Shit, he was fucking this whole thing up. Again. Feeling utterly blind and mostly useless, he tried to find the rhythm in the positions, but his balance was in the crapper and his arms and legs just wouldn't behave.
"Johnjust stop." Zsadist came up behind him and moved his arms around. Again. "Let's do it again. Ladies, back in ready position."
John settled in, waited for the whistle... and screwed it all up. Again.
This time when Zsadist walked over, John couldn't look the Brother in the face.
"Let's try something." Z took the blade and put it in John's left hand.
John shook his head. He was right-dominant.
"Just try it. Ladies? Let's do it."
Another ready position. Another whistle. Another fuckup
Oh, but this time it wasn't. Miraculously, John's body fell into the series of positions like a perfect piano chord. Everything was in sync, all his arms and legs going where they needed to be, the dagger controlled perfectly in his hand, his muscles coalescing and working together.
When the drill was over, he smiled. Until he met Z's eyes. The Brother was staring at him strangely, but then seemed to catch himself. "Better, John. Much better."
John looked down at the blade in his hand. He had a quick, painful memory of walking Sarelle out to her car a couple of days before she'd been killed. As he'd been by her side, he'd wished he had a dagger, had felt like his palm was too light without one. That had been his right hand then. Why the switch after the transition?
"Again, ladies!" Z called out.
They did the sequence twenty-three more times. Then worked on another that had them getting down on one knee and lunging upward. Z patrolled the line, fixing positions, barking out demands.
He didn't have to address John once. Everything just came together, the vein tapped, the gold extracted.
When class was over John headed to the lockers, but Z called him back and led him into the equipment room, over to the locked closet where the training daggers were kept.
"From now on you'll use this." Z handed over one with a blue hilt. "Calibrated for the left hand."
John tried it out and felt even stronger. He was about to thank the Brother when he frowned. Z was looking at him with the same strange expression he'd had out in the gym.
John tucked the blade into the belt of his ji and signed, What? Am I not in good position?
Z rubbed a hand over his skull trim. "Ask me how many fighters are left-handed."
John's breath stopped, an odd feeling coming over him. How many?
"Only known one. Ask me who he was."
Who was he?
"Darius. D was left handed."
John stared down at his left hand. His father.
"And you move like him," Z murmured. "It's eerie as fuck, to be honest. It's like I'm looking at him."
Really?
"Yeah, he was smooth. Like you are. Anyway. Whatever." Z clapped him on the shoulder. "Lefty. Go figure."
John watched the Brother leave, then looked at his palm again.
Not for the first time, he wondered what his father had looked like. Sounded like. Acted like. God, what he wouldn't give for some information on the male.
Maybe someday he could ask Zsadist. But he was afraid of getting emotional.
If only there was another way.
Jane backed her car into her garage and cursed at the time as she cut the engine. Eleven thirty-four. She was two and a half hours late to meet V at her place.
It had been a prime case of delayed departure. She'd had her coat on and her bag packed, but on the way to the door all sorts of medical staff had come up to her with question after question. Then one of the patients had taken a turn for the worse in the chute, and she'd had to examine the woman, then talk to the family.
She'd texted Vishous that she'd gotten tied up. Then again when she had to stay even longer. He'd hit her back saying it was fine. But then she'd called when she'd gotten stuck on a detour on the way home, and she'd gone to voice mail.
She got out of the car as the garage door eased shut. She was excited to see Vishous, but exhausted too. They'd spent the night before doing a whole lot of not sleeping, and she'd had a long day.
As she came in through the kitchen she called out, "I'm so sorry I'm late."
"It's cool," he said from the living room.
She came around the corner... and stopped. Vishous was sitting on the couch in the dark, his legs crossed. His leather jacket was next to him, and so was a wrapped bunch of calla lilies. He was still as a frozen lake.
Shit.
"Hi," she said as she dumped her coat and bag on her parents' dining room table.
"Hey." He uncrossed his thighs and planted his elbows on his knees. "Everything at the hospital okay?"
"Yeah. Just busy." She sat down next to the flowers. "These are lovely."
"Got them for you."
"I'm really sorry"
He stopped her with his hand. "You don't have to be. I can imagine how it is."
As she measured him, she knew he wasn't trying to guilt her or anything; he was just disappointed. Which somehow made her feel worse. If he'd been unreasonable, that was one thing, but this quiet resignation from a man as powerful as him was hard to bear.
"You look tired," he said. "I think the kindest thing I can do is put you in bed."
She leaned back and gently stroked one of the flowers with her forefinger. She liked that he didn't go average with roses or even the white kind of calla lily. These were a deep peach tone. Unusual. Beautiful. "I thought about you today. Alot."
"Did you?" Though she wasn't looking at him, she heard the smile in his voice. "What did you think about?"
"Everything. Nothing. How much I wish I were sleeping next to you every night."
She didn't tell him she'd turned down the Columbia opportunity. Letting that go didn't sit right, but then, trying for a position in New York City where she'd have even more responsibility just didn't seem like a smart thing to do if the goal was to spend more, not less, time with V. She still wanted to be in charge, but you had to sacrifice things in life to get what you wanted. And the idea that you could have it all was such a fallacy.
A yawn sprang up her throat and opened her mouth. Shit, she was tired.
V stood and put out his hand. "Up you go. You can sleep next to me for a while."
She let herself be led upstairs, stripped, and pushed into the shower. She waited for him to join her, but he shook his head.
"If I start with that shit, I'm going to keep you up for the next two hours." His eyes latched onto her breasts and flashed with light. "Oh... Christ... I'll just... Fuck, I gotta wait for you outside."
She smiled as he shut the glass shower door and his big black shape stalked off into the bedroom. Ten minutes later she came out, scrubbed, flossed, brushed, and in one of her nightshirts.
Vishous had straightened the duvet, arranged her pillows, and folded the sheets back. "In," he commanded.
"I hate taking orders," she murmured.
"But you'll do it from me. On occasion." He swatted her butt lightly as she slid in. "Get comfortable."
She arranged everything where she wanted it to be as he went around and lay down on top of the bed. When he pushed his arm under her head and cuddled up close, she thought, God, he smelled good. And that soothing hand running up and down her waist was divine.
After a while she said into the darkness, "So, we lost a patient today."
"Shit, I'm sorry."
"Yeah... there was no saving her. Sometimes you just know, and with her? I knew it. We still did everything we could, but all along... yeah, all along I knew we weren't going to bring her through."
"That must be hard."
"Awful. I was the one who told the family she was slipping, but at least they got to be there when she passed, which was good. Like my sister? Hannah died alone. I hate that." Jane pictured the young woman whose heart had given out in the chute. "Death is weird. Most people think it's an on/off kind of thing, but more often it's a process, really, kind of like closing up a shop at the end of the day. For the most part things fail in a predictable manner, until finally the last light in the place goes out and the door is shut and locked. As a doctor I can jump in and stop the progression by sealing up wounds or giving more blood or forcing the body to regulate its functions with drugs. But sometimes... sometimes the shopkeeper just leaves, and you can't stop him no matter what you do." She laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, don't mean to get morbid."
He brushed his hand down her face. "You're not. You're amazing."
"You're biased," she said, before yawning so wide her jaw cracked.
"I'm right." He kissed her forehead. "Now sleep."
She must have followed orders, because sometime later she felt him moving away. "Don't go."
"Have to. I'm patrolling downtown."
He stood up, a giant of a maner, male, his dark hair catching the dim light from the street lamps out in front of the condo.
A wave of sadness came over her, and she closed her eyes.
"Hey," he said, sitting down next to her. "None of that. We're not sad. You and me? We're not sad. We don't do sad."
She laughed with a choking sound. "How did you know what I was feeling? Or do I look that pathetic?"
He tapped his nose. "I can smell it. Spring rain is what the scent's like."
"I hate this good-bye shit."
"Me, too." He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead. "Here." He shrugged out of his long-sleeved shirt, balled it up, and put it under her cheek. "Pretend this is me."
She breathed in deep, caught the bonding scent, and was calmed a little. As he stood, he looked so strong in just a muscle shirt, invincible, like a superhero. And yet he breathed.
"Please... be careful."
"Always." He bent over and kissed her again. "I love you."
As he pulled away, she reached out and grabbed his arm. Words failed, but the silence said enough.
"I hate the leaving, too," he replied roughly. "But I'll be back. I promise."
He kissed her again and then headed for the door. As she listened to him go downstairs to get his coat, she cradled his shirt to her face and closed her eyes.
With perfectly fucking bad timing, the garage door of the condo beside hers started to rumble up. Halfway through, it got stuck, the motor whining loud enough to make her headboard vibrate.
She punched the pillow and rolled over, ready to scream.
Vishous was not a happy camper as he pulled on his dagger holster. He was distracted, vaguely pissed off, achy as shit, in desperate need to have a smoke and collect his marbles before he went downtown. He felt totally off center, like he had a heavy duffel bag hanging off one shoulder.
"Vishous! Wait!" Jane's voice came from upstairs just as he was going to dematerialize, "Wait!"
Her footsteps bounded down the stairs and she whipped around the corner, his shirt dwarfing her, the tails hanging down almost to her knees.
"What"
"I have an idea. It's crazy. But it's also smart." With high color in her cheeks and her eyes lit with purpose, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. "What if I moved in with you?"
He shook his head. "I want you to, but"
"And functioned as the Brotherhood's private surgeon."
Holy... shit... "What?"
"You really should have one on-site. You said there are complications with that Havers guy. Well, I could solve them. I could hire a nurse to assist, upgrade the facilities, and be in charge. You said there are at least three to four injuries a week within the Brotherhood, right? Plus, Bella's pregnant and there well probably be more babies in the future."
"Jesus... you would give up the hospital, though?"
"Yeah, but I'd get something in return."
He flushed. "Me?"
She laughed. "Well, yeah. Of course. But there's something else."
"What?"
"The chance to systematically study your race. My other great love is genetics. If I got to spend the next two decades fixing you boys up and cataloging the differences between humans and vampires, I'd say my life had been well served. I want to know where you came from and how your bodies work and why you don't get cancer. There are important things to be learned, Vishous. Things that could benefit both races. I'm not talking about you guys as guinea pigs... Well, I guess I am. But not in a cruel way. Not in the detached way I was thinking of before. I love you and I want to learn from you."
He stared at her and did a whole lot of not breathing.
She winced and said, "Please say y"
He crushed her against his chest. "Yes. Yeah... if it's okay with Wrath and you're cool with it... yes."
Her arms went around his waist and squeezed hard.
Holy shit, he felt like he was flying. He was whole, complete, solid in his head and his heart and his body, all his little boxes arranged properly, that Rubik's Cube in out-of-the-wrapper, perfect condition.
He was about to get sappy when his phone went off. With a curse he undipped it from his belt and barked, "What. Jane's. You want to meet me here? Right now? Yeah. Fuck. Okay, see you in two, Hollywood." He clipped the RAZR shut. "Rhage."
"You think we'll be able to swing a move-in for me?"
"Yeah, I do. Frankly, Wrath would be much more comfortable if you were in our world." He ran his knuckles down her cheek. "And so would I. I just never thought you'd give up your life."
"Not giving it up, though. Living it a little differently, but not giving it up. I mean... I really don't have many friends." Except Manello. "And there's nothing tying me downI was prepared to leave Caldwell for Manhattan anyway. Plus... I'm just going to be happier with you."
He looked her face over, loving the strong features and the short hair and the piercing forest green eyes. "I never would have asked you, you know... to blow everything you have here away for me."
"That's only one of the reasons I love you."
"Will you tell me the others later?"
"Maybe." She slipped her hand between his legs, shocking the shit out of him and making him gasp. "Might show you, too."
He covered her mouth with his and pushed his tongue into her as he backed her up against the wall. He didn't care if Rhage waited on the front lawn for an extra
His phone went off. And kept ringing.
V lifted his head and looked through the window by the front door. Rhage was on the front lawn, phone to his ear, staring back. The brother made a show of checking his watch, then flashing his middle finger at V.
Vishous pounded a fist into the Sheetrock and stepped off from Jane. "I'm coming back at the end of the night. Be naked."
"Wouldn't you rather undress me?"
"No, because I'd shred that shirt, and I want you sleeping in it every night until you're in my bed with me. Be. Naked."
"We'll see."
His whole body throbbed at the disobedience. And she knew it, her stare level and erotic.
"God, I love you," he said.
"I know. Now run along and kill something. I'll be waiting for you."
He smiled at her. "Couldn't love you more if I tried."
"Ditto."
He kissed her and dematerialized out front to Rhage's side, making sure some mhis was in place. Oh, great. It was raining. Man, he'd so much rather be cozied up with Jane than out with his brother, and he couldn't help but shoot a short-stack glare at Rhage.
"Like another five minutes would kill you?"
"Please. You start down that road with your female and I'll be here until summer."
"Are you"
V frowned and looked at the condo next to Jane's. The garage door was jammed halfway up, the glow of brake lights revealed. There was a slam of a car door then on the breeze the faintest scent of sweetness drifted over, like powdered sugar had been sprinkled in the cold wind.
"Oh... God, no."
At that very moment Jane threw open her front door and came running out, his leather jacket in her hand, his shirt flowing behind her. "You forgot this!"
It was a hideous hole in one, a revelation of all the pieces he'd seen only fragments of: The dream had arrived in real life.
"No!" he screamed.
The sequence played out in a series of seconds that lasted centuries: Rhage looking at him as if he were crazy. Jane running over the grass. Him dropping the mhis as fear overwhelmed him.
A lesser ducking out from under the garage door with gun drawn.
The shot made no sound on account of the silencer that was in place. V lunged for Jane, trying to shield her body with his. He failed. She was hit in the back, and the bullet came out the other side, busting through her sternum, going into his arm. He caught her as she fell, his own chest blazing with pain.
As they crumpled to the ground, Rhage tore off after the slayer, not that V really noticed. All he knew was his nightmare: Blood on his shirt. His heart screaming in agony. Death coming... but not for him. For Jane.
"Two minutes," she said between gasps as her hand flopped onto her chest. "Got less than two... minutes."
She must have been hit in an artery and knew it. "I'm going to"
She shook her head and grabbed his arm. "Stay. Shit... not going... to..."
Make it... were the words she was going to say. "Fuck that!"
"Vishous..." Her eyes watered, her color draining fast. "Hold my hand. Don't leave me. You can't... Don't let me go alone."
"You're going to be fine!" He started to pick her up. "I'm taking you to Havers's."
"Vishous. Can't fix this. Hold my hand. I'm leaving... oh, fuck..." She started to weep while gasping. "I love you."
"No!"
"I love..."
"No!"