Page 12 of Lover Forbidden (The Black Dagger Brotherhood #23)

At the end of the night, after the meet and greet was over, and the crowd dispersed, and the Trash Panda owner and reps swept off in a limo, Lyric walked through the club, and regarded the place through fresh eyes.

Well, “fresh” was a stretch. Her peepers were way past whatever expiration date they were stamped with, each blink like she was in a sandstorm, her lids heavy as garage doors, her mascara flaking off and adding to the problem.

It was also a stretch for poor old Bathe. All the interior lights were on, the music was off, the rest of the patrons gone to wherever their last-call decisions had taken them.

When it was dimmed out and packed with people, the beat bumping and drinks flowing, there was always an electrical charge in the air, a sizzling, buzzy excitement.

Like this? It was downright depressing, the scuffs on the black floor and the scrapes on the black walls, the smell of bleach as surfaces were cleaned, the worn-out staff counting bottles behind the mile-long bar, the kind of behind-the-curtain that reminded you image was not everything.

No shit , she thought with exhaustion—

“You did a good job tonight.”

Lyric glanced over her shoulder. Even Marcia was subdued, but sure as the sun would set over Caldwell again in another fifteen hours, the Energizer media manager would be back on her A game soon enough.

Maybe she plugged herself in like a cell phone on her time off.

“Thanks,” Lyric murmured as she refocused on the club’s front exit.

“You serious about ending all this?” The woman paused as they finally got to the main door. “You’re a natural, and you’re just starting to get real traction.”

She tried to remember any part of the event. A conversation. A person. A glance. Hell, she was even blanking on her father and brother stopping by. But they had come… hadn’t they?

Lyric rerolled the sleeve on the construction worker’s coat. “I am serious, yes. But I appreciate everything you did for me, especially tonight.”

“You’re welcome.” Marcia shrugged as she opened things, the cold rushing in. “And I’ll do what I can to get you out of the Resolve2Evolve thing. No promises.”

“Something tells me you’ll make it happen.” Lyric offered a smile as they stepped out. “You can get things done, for sure.”

“It’s my only virtue—at least according to my mother, who wanted me married three years ago and working on baby number two by now.” Marcia glanced around at the empty, snowy street. “Where’s your car?”

“Oh, that’s okay.” She looked up to where the billboard had been mounted. Tendrils of the scaffolding were still in place, metal whiskers on the building’s square head. “I’m taken care of.”

The woman looked pointedly at the heavy coat. “Better not let your boyfriend see you in that.”

Lyric’s stare drifted to the construction site as she brought the rough lapels in closer to her throat. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

There was a pause. And then Marcia’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to take that thing back to him tonight. Aren’t you.”

Before Lyric could pull a response out of her butt, a forefinger was right in front of her face.

“Now, listen, you have to be careful in this big city. A split-second lifesaver doesn’t make him a saint.

Do you have Mace? Of course you don’t.” Marcia rummaged around in her purse and shoved a tube forward.

“Here, you take this. Don’t be afraid to use it.

It’s not legal, but who cares—and don’t go back to that construction site. ”

“It’s his coat.”

“Put it in the back of your closet and let it be a memento of tonight. Or what your career could have been.”

“I’m just going to do the right thing—”

“No, you’re looking for an excuse to get killed.” Marcia got her keys out and started striding away while she talked over her shoulder. “Call an Uber and go home. Woman like you, out on the street this late? Nothing good comes of it. Don’t you get the news on your phone? Jesus Christ…”

One block down, the lights on an Audi flashed.

Lyric waited where she was in the cold wind as Marcia got into the SUV, started the car, and took off down Market, a lone set of red taillights disappearing around a skyscraper.

“Annnnd that’s all she wrote.” She looked down at the little canister. “Oh, bear repellent.”

In case you didn’t pick the man, evidently.

Wonder what MAR-see-ah would’ve thought if she knew she’d given the stuff to a vampire—

The unsettled wind whipped around her, like it was looking to have another crack at taking her out with a projectile, and she had a sudden foreboding that made her want to be home already.

Running her hands up the coarse fabric, she took a deep breath.

The scent of the man was still on the material, and as it registered in her nose, she stepped off the curb like her name had been called.

With choppy strides, she crossed the slushy lanes and thought of Rhamp.

She could only imagine what her brother would say about her new security blanket—she’d never hear the end of it.

One more reason to give the thing back to its rightful owner—

Lyric slipped and pulled some bad dance moves to keep on her feet. As she recovered her balance, she stopped, even though she wasn’t anywhere near the mile-high snowbank she’d been gunning for.

“Well… crap.”

The worksite appeared to be shut down. There were still bright lights shining around the exterior, and the equipment and debris were in the same chaotic disarray.

No men, though. Maybe they were inside? She doubted it.

Unlike before, the interior of the building was dark and there were no sounds of work, no machines grinding on, no hammering or banging. No voices.

And her keen hearing would have picked up on all of that in spite of the wind.

Continuing onward, she arrived at the mini-mountain created by the city plows, and picked her way up and over the summit, using the predetermined footholds countless pedestrians had turned into steps.

On the other side, she stared up the flank of the building—

The sense that she was being watched leveled her head and twisted her around. Bathe’s light-show entry had been turned off, and in spite of the familiar streetscape and all the lampposts, she suddenly felt like she was in the middle of nowhere.

Alone.

The reality of her isolation blew through her, an arctic gust from a different compass point, and it was as she shivered that she saw the shadow lurking in the alley by the club’s emergency exit.

If she’d had human eyes, she wouldn’t have seen whoever it was, but her vampire retinas were especially good at night.

A big, hulking shape. A male? A man?

She was upwind, so there was no scent, and surely if it was someone she knew, they would have called out. Heart pounding, she took a step back—

Binnng … binnng … binnnng …

As the radar-like noise registered, she looked down. That the peculiar sound was coming from her left ovary was a shocker for so many reasons—at least until she shoved her hand into the pocket of the construction jacket and took out a cell phone.

While the binging continued, she glanced over at the alley again. The figure was gone and she scented the air. The wind was still coming at her back, so no information there, but given the tingle of warning at her nape, she knew she had to get out of—

“So there’s my phone.”

Lyric jerked around. “Oh! It’s you.”

Her savior had come out of nowhere for a second time, and he’d had a shower and changed since she’d seen him last. Now sporting a SUNY Caldwell hoodie, a black parka, and hair that was wet, she focused on his face—and the fact that she didn’t recognize it made her really worry about the way her brain worked.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Ah, here, sorry.” She held his cell out. “And I want to give you back your jacket—”

He took the phone. “I told you to keep it. Did you come over here just to return that old thing?”

“And your phone.” Even though she hadn’t known it was in the pocket. “Everyone needs their phone. I was returning the phone.”

Shut up , she told her mouth as she rechecked the alley.

His brows lowered and he glanced around. “And you’re going home now, right.”

“Yes.”

“Good. This city is dangerous at night.”

“For sure.” Her eyes returned to the club again. “You never know what can fall on a person. Billboards. Maybe a piano or two. Cars…”

What the fuck was she saying.

He glanced toward Bathe. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing. I… it doesn’t matter.”

She swung her eyes back to him, and as his stare met her own, there was a long, quiet moment.

“Go home,” he told her. “You need to go home.”

Good advice. The problem? She didn’t want to leave this stranger undefended against whatever the hell had been over there.

Assuming it hadn’t actually left. Just relocated to another position.

Standing over the blonde, Dev had to be amazed by her. Somehow, she managed to suck him in again: What the hell business of his was it where she went. Stay here, go home… head to the North-fucking-Pole to join an elf colony. Who gave a shit.

Yet here he was, worried about what was going to happen to her if he took off and left her here.

“You got a car nearby?” he heard himself ask as he put his phone into his parka.

“Yes, sure. I mean, yes.”

Interesting dichotomy, the beauty with this shy hesitancy thing, which did not seem like an act. Usually the two didn’t go together, because blondes who wore shimmering dresses and came with cell phone entourages didn’t operate in a world where insecurity was any kind of hallmark.

“Where’s your ride.” When she paused, he shook his head. “Why is this so hard? I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I was going to call an Uber.”

“Okay. I’ll wait until it shows up.” He cocked a brow. “What kind of man would I be if I left a lady out here all alone.”