The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood #13) - J. R. Ward Page 0,131

himself against her, forcing her to take a step back or fall off her heels. And another. And another.

Until she was up against the wall.

And held there by his body.

“You might want to rethink your conclusion, Chosen.”

Layla found it difficult to breathe, but not because he was putting any direct pressure on her chest. “I know something else.”

“And what might that be.”

She thought back to over-hearing what Blay and Qhuinn had said about the night before, about how Rhage, V, and the twins had gone out to where the Band of Bastards had stayed.

“I know that you had yet another chance to kill them. I know they went to the house you had been living in, and you didn’t leave anything behind that could hurt them. You could have either ambushed them there, or set up some kind of offensive, and you did not.”

At that, he broke off from her.

It was painful to watch him limp around, see his bloodstained, torn clothes, witness the exhaustion.

Grimly, she said, “So I’m not exactly feeding the enemy anymore, am I?”

Eventually, he stopped before the fire. Putting one hand upon his hip, he stared down at the flames and seemed curiously defeated.

“Just go,” he said.

“Why would you choose to hide what for me is good news?” The idea that he might not be trying to kill the Brotherhood or Wrath anymore would be a tremendous relief. “Why?”

“If we did not have our arrangement, would you come and see me.”

Layla felt a strange warmth come over her, and she was dimly aware that they were, once again, approaching some kind of divide.

All of their nights thus far had been a dance defined by the role of manipulator and victim.

And there had been a perverse safety for her in the position she took.

It meant she could hide behind doing a duty for the Brotherhood.

It meant she could pretend that she was forced into this.

The truth … was far more complicated than that.

An image of him from the night before, standing where he was now before the hearth, made her want to take off her fleece; if she had been hot before, she was now afire.

Xcor looked over his shoulder. As the flickering light filtered over his features, his facial deformity seemed even more prominent. And yet though he might have been ugly to some … he was not to her.

She tried to picture him without his clothes on.

“So,” he taunted. “Would you still come here? And do not worry about hurting my feelings. The very female who birthed me did not want me. I am well familiar with feminine disregard.”

After further silence, he slashed his arm through the air. “I believe that is your answer, then—”

“I would,” she said forcefully. “I would come to see you.”

She found herself putting her hands to her swollen belly, and wishing she could spare her unborn young this reality.

His eyes flared in shock. Then narrowed. “Why.”

His voice was strident, a demand that challenged her to speak some other truth.

“I don’t know why.” She shrugged. “But reasoning doesn’t change the fact, does it.”

There was another long silence.

When Xcor spoke next, it was so softly that she was unsure what he said. But it sounded like, “I wasn’t looking to be transformed.”

She didn’t bother to ask him to repeat whatever it was. No doubt, if he had intended her to hear the words, he would have made things louder.

“Take my vein.”

In issuing the order, she knew there was no going back. Having crossed into this realm that lacked pretense and was all about choice, she was very aware that her destiny was changing. But at least it wasn’t through some random and irrelevant decision to go left or right.

This was conscious. So conscious that it was as if the cozy room in this picturesque little cottage had been bolded with color and infused with scents more vivid than her nose could handle. Her hearing, too, was acute to the point of pain, every crackle from the fire or breath from her mouth or his resonating into some great canyon’s echo.

This time, when he came over to her, it was not fast and it was not with aggression.

His eyes were on her, but they were wary, as if the predator was now in fear of his prey.

Stepping in beside her, Xcor offered his forearm. When she just looked at it, he said, “I saw them once do this. A gentlemale to a female of worth?”

“Yes,” she said roughly. “It is done thusly.”

After she