Page 48 of Lover Forbidden (The Black Dagger Brotherhood #23)

In her one-bedroom apartment’s living area, Lyric collapsed back against the sofa. Everything was spinning, and her entire body was flushed, and she couldn’t tell whether she was back on planet Earth or still on a trip to the center of the universe. Lifting her head, she opened her lids—

The absolutely magnificent man between her legs swept a hand down his mouth and sat back on his heels. Dev’s dark hair was mussed, his lips parted as he breathed hard, his eyes glowing with heat. Yet as their stares met, he didn’t come closer or keep going.

“What about you,” she asked in a husky voice.

To make her intention absolutely clear, she would have made a move on him, but her body weighed so much it had its own gravitational pull—which had evidently claimed the sofa. And whatever apartment was underneath them. Maybe the whole building and the entire city block the Commodore was on.

“Nah, I’m good…” Dev’s voice was so deep and low, it was nearly inaudible. “Seeing you like this… is all I need.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Her eyes drifted down to the enormous bulge in his jeans. “In fact… I think that’s a lie.”

Dropping his head, he seemed to battle for control, his hands curling into fists, the muscles of his arms flexing against the long sleeves of his pullover.

“I want you,” she purred. “All of you—”

“You don’t know what you’re saying—”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” Lyric shook her head, and was able to speak with the kind of surety she hadn’t had the night before. “I’m not looking past this moment. And neither should you.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“So talk to me, Dev.” She pulled her shirt together, and sat up. “Help me understand why it isn’t.”

“I have to go.” He looked at the windows behind the couch like he was thinking about jumping out of them. “I just… have to go.”

A shaft of pain penetrated her sternum, but she was not going to beg him. “Okay. So leave.”

When he didn’t move, she leaned forward so that they were face to face. “I don’t know what’s got you locked up, but whatever it is, it’s on your side of things, not mine.”

“I’m not looking for… this.” Dev rubbed his hair, his palm sweeping back and forth like he was trying to polish the thoughts in his head. “This… cannot happen. Between you and me.”

In the silence that followed, she became even more resolute. “Well, I’m not asking for more than right here and now.”

“And that’s my problem,” he said harshly.

“What is.”

“I’m afraid if I have you, I’ll never be free of you.”

As his words registered, she thought… Well, hell. For all the reasons he was right about them not having any kind of future, she was suddenly flushed at the idea that he could want her that much.

“You can always walk out the door afterward.” She wanted to touch his face, but resisted. “You’re free to go now, too.”

“Just because you leave someone doesn’t mean you can forget about them,” he countered bitterly.

“Who hurt you, Dev. Tell me.”

Instead of answering her, he got to his feet, and from his great height, he stared down at her for the longest time. She could sense the retreat in him, and wondered where in his mind he had gone. It was a dark place, wherever it was, given the stark lines of his ex-pression.

“I want to go to that convention with you,” he said grimly. “Unless you want to end this right here.”

Lyric recoiled a little. Then again, he had a habit of surprising her, didn’t he.

“All right.” She cleared her throat. “Meet me at the loading dock of the convention center tomorrow night at six p.m. It’s around in the back, and I’ve been told there’s only one.”

“I’ll be there.”

Dev nodded briskly, like that was that, and as he turned away, she was reminded of being out in the middle of Market Street the night before last, picking up his helmet.

This evening, she was not going after the man.

Staying where she was, she listened to him walk down to the door. There was a clicking sound and then the subtle creak as things were opened and closed behind him.

The deflation in the aftermath was real, and so was the chill that shot through her skin and into her bones. Except what did Mary always say? Don’t take other people personally.

“Easy advice,” she muttered. “Until you’re sexually frustrated even after you’ve had three orgasms.”

Or was it four.

Getting up, she went down to the exit he’d put to use and locked things up.

Then she walked through to the bedroom, where she paused for a moment to mourn all the perfectly pressed sheets and pristine duvet.

In the bathroom, she was somewhat surprised to find the toiletries she usually used at home stocked in the drawers and the shower, down to her brand of toothpaste.

There were even changes of clothes in her size, as well as underwear, and shoes, in the walk-in closet.

Fritz Perlmutter was not paid enough, no matter how much he earned.

The impulse for a shower turned out to be a good one. Standing under the spray, she closed her eyes and pulled herself together—and when she failed, at least she had clean hair and a rosy glow.

It wasn’t until she was toweling off that she decided where to go, and after she dressed and blew out her hair, she returned to the sofa. The throw pillow that she’d shoved off the arm was hard to put back in place. In doing so, it was like she was erasing what had happened from her timeline.

Still, she was never again going to look at this couch without remembering what had happened on it.

God, she hoped that wasn’t true for all couches, everywhere.

Sitting down, but keeping her back stick straight, she settled her hands in her lap and closed her eyes.

She wasn’t exactly sure how this was supposed to work, or even if she would be granted an audience in the Sanctuary by Lassiter the fallen angel.

Compared to all the things going on in the vampire world, her little corner of chaos was nothing.

But you were supposed to be able to ask for spiritual guidance if you needed it, right?

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in… breathe out…

Was it like dematerializing? she wondered. Or something else?

As the drift of the heating system crossed her face, she heard voices out in the hall and the ding of the elevator. Somewhere above, someone was playing music on a very good sound system, the thumps subtle but not muddled—

At first, she thought the spinning was an effect of the HVAC system blowing air, but then she realized it was actually her, even as she didn’t shift her position—

The next thing Lyric knew, the breeze on her forehead and cheeks disappeared and so did the sensations of the cushions beneath her and her bare feet on the carpeted floor.

Abruptly, she felt like she was floating, but it was no float she’d ever felt before, her weightless body suspended on what surely was a molecular level in…

She opened her eyes and gasped.

Stretching out before her, a rolling green lawn rose to various Greco-Roman temples and structures, and in the distance, a shimmering pool glowed like an aquamarine jewel.

Clutches of colorful tulips popped up here and there, like bouquets ready for picking, and at the horizon, a solid forest of trees was a friendly boundary, no shadows lurking anywhere.

She glanced over her shoulder with a sense of awe and wonder.

A marble colonnade was beside her, and from its airy confines, she heard the chirping of songbirds and the tinkling fall of a fountain.

There was also another temple, this time with a set of closed cathedral-like doors—and she had the sense that that building was quite large, even though she couldn’t see how far back it went.

As she tilted her head up, the sky above was like nothing she had ever seen before, a dense, blue cover preventing her from seeing anything beyond it… except she had a feeling there was nothing to see there.

“Dearest… Lassiter,” she whispered.

The Sanctuary was indeed on its own plane of existence, one that she recognized instinctually as being outside the reach of time and entropy, and as she stood on the hallowed ground, she knew without a doubt that the lore of the species was all true.

Vampires had come to be when the mahmen of the race had exercised her single act of creation, and her brother, the Omega, had been so consumed by jealousy of the grace she’d been granted that he had resolved to kill her precious young.

Thus the Lessening Society had come into being, and the war commenced.

And even though the Scribe Virgin was now gone and the Omega also eradicated, others had taken their places…

and so it was all a direct line right up to what had happened last night, when her brother, the heir to the throne, and their best friend had been out behind an apartment building, fighting slayers in the midst of humans.

Proof that time was infinite for history. Mortals were the ones just passing through for brief periods, embers flaring only momentarily before going dark.

As she massaged the sad center of her chest, she glanced around at all the temples. She could see no people, sense no movement.

It was like a stage set for Claymation.

Annnnnnnnnnnd now what, she wondered—

At first, she thought she was hearing things. And then she realized she was. Off in the distance, there was some kind of music playing. Not a band, no. More like… a cheap, tinny speaker?

She waited around for a minute, then figured what the hell.

Taking a step forward, and another, and another—she had to stop. The weightlessness and the lack of any breeze whatsoever, coupled with the perfect seventy-degree temperature, made her feel like she was walking through bathwater. And you would have thought that was perfection.

Instead she felt carsick.