Lover Awakened - By J.R. Ward Page 0,48

was concerned, David could go to hell right this minute; she just didn't want anyone she loved risking their lives to send him there.

"No, I don't want to go home. Not until I'm completely healed. And I'm so very tired..." Her voice drifted off as she glanced at the pillows.

After a moment Phury got up. "I'm right next door if you need me."

"Would you like your coat back?"

"Oh, yeah... let me see if there's a robe in here." He disappeared into a closet and came back with black satin draped over his forearm. "Fritz stocks these guest rooms for males, so this is probably going to be too big."

She took the robe and he turned away. When she shrugged out of his heavy leather coat the air chilled her, so she quickly wrapped the satin around herself.

"Okay," she said, grateful for his discretion.

As he pivoted back to her, she put the leather into his hands.

"I'm always saying thank-you to you, aren't I?" she murmured.

He looked at her for a long time. Then in slow motion, he lifted his coat to his face and breathed in deeply.

"You're..." His voice trailed off. Then he dropped the leather to his side and an odd expression hit his face.

Actually, no, that wasn't an expression. It was a mask. He'd gone into hiding.

"Phury?"

"I'm glad you're with us. Try to get some sleep. And eat some of what I brought you, if you can." The door shut behind him without a sound.

The drive back to Tohr's house was awkward, and John spent the time staring out the side window. Tohr's cell phone rang twice. Both conversations were in the Old Language, and the name Zsadist kept reappearing.

When they pulled into the driveway there was an unfamiliar car parked in it. A red Volkswagen Jetta. Yet Tohr didn't seem surprised as he eased past the thing and went into the garage.

He killed the Range Rover's engine and opened his door. "By the way, classes start the day after tomorrow."

John looked up from undoing his seat belt. So soon? he signed.

"We had the last trainee sign up tonight. We're good to go."

The two of them walked in silence through the garage. Tohr was in front, his big shoulders moving with the long steps he took. The man's head was down, as if he were looking for cracks in the concrete floor.

John stopped and whistled.

Tohr slowed, then halted. "Yeah?" he said quietly.

John took out his pad, scribbled something, and held it out.

Tohr's brows came down as he read. "There's nothing to be sorry for. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

John reached out and squeezed the man's biceps. Tohr shook his head.

"It's all right. Come on, I don't want you to catch cold out here." The man glanced over when John didn't move. "Ah, hell... I'm just... I'm there for you. That's all."

John put his pen to the paper. I don't doubt that for a moment. Ever.

"Good. You shouldn't. Straight up, I feel like I'm your..." There was a pause as Tohr rubbed his thumb back and forth across his forehead. "Look, I don't want to crowd you. Let's go inside."

Before John could beg him to finish the sentence, Tohr opened the door into the house. Wellsie's voice drifted out... and so did another woman's. John frowned as he came around the corner into the kitchen. And then stopped dead as a blond female looked over her shoulder.

Oh... wow.

Her hair was cut off at her jawline and her eyes were the color of new leaves. Those hip-hugger jeans she was wearing were so short-waisted... God, he could see her belly button and about an inch of flesh underneath. And her black turtle-neck was... Well, he could tell exactly how perfect her body was, put it like that.

Wellsie grinned. "You guys got here just in time. John, this is my cousin Sarelle. Sarelle, this is John."

"Hi, John." The female smiled.

Fangs. Oh, yeah. Look at those fangs... Something traveled like a hot breeze over his skin, leaving him tingling from head to foot. Out of confusion, he opened his mouth. Then thought, uh-huh, right. As if anything was coming out of his useless piehole?

While flushing to all hell and gone, he lifted his hand in a wave.

"Sarelle's helping me with the winter festival," Wellsie said, "and she's going to stay for a bite to eat before dawn breaks. Why don't you two set the table?"

As Sarelle smiled again, that funny tingling thing got so strong, he felt as if he were levitating.

"John? You

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