The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood #13) - J. R. Ward Page 0,66

with her disease had been keeping it a secret. Then, when she was around others, she could pretend that she was just like them, with a long life expectancy, and priorities that involved normal things like work, and sleep, and food.

Now? Everyone was going to know.

There was no privacy in the mansion—and that was fine. The people were lovely and supported one another. It was just … it had taken her years and years to come to terms with her illness.

The others were going to catch up with her reality quick, and she did not want to be pitied.

Going over to the head of the hall of statues, she paused at the discreet door to the left. Opening it with a shaking hand, she confronted yet another set of stairs, and had to wait a moment to gather her strength.

She ended up taking them slower than the main stairs. Then again, there was less of an imperative to run and hide. The only other people who used these were the First Family, who lived in a triple-locked and insulated space that no one but Fritz was allowed access to … and iAm and Trez.

iAm’s bedroom door turned out to be wide-open, a lamp glowing in the far corner illuminating the tidy, empty space with its antiques and fine fabrics.

Trez’s was shut.

Selena knocked, and then put her ear to the panels. When there was no response, she knocked again.

Maybe he hadn’t come up here?

She knew he had dealings in the human world, but he’d seemed so exhausted as he’d left the clinic. It seemed only reasonable that—

“Yeah?”

Swallowing hard, she said, “It’s me.”

Long silence. So long that she wondered whether he’d cracked a window and dematerialized out of the room just to avoid her.

But eventually his voice came again: “Are you okay?”

“May I…?”

“Hold on.”

A minute later the door opened, and she had to step back. He was so big … and so very naked—although it wasn’t like he was showing anything. He’d put a robe on, the bare, dark skin of his chest revealed in the V between the lapels.

It was impossible not to imagine what the rest of him looked like under there.

“Are you all right?” he repeated.

For some reason, she got frustrated by his concern. Which was insane. He was being polite and solicitous … it just made her feel like all she was was this disease inside of her.

“I, ah…” She glanced around. “May we do this privately?”

In lieu of answering, he moved aside and indicated the way in with his arm. After she was over the threshold, she heard the door lock click into place.

“I want to apologize.” She stopped at the windows and turned around. “I’m sorry. My emotions are raw right now, and my candor got away from me.”

Trez crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the exit. His face was inscrutable, his dark eyes grave, his brows down.

As the silence stuck around, she cleared her throat. Shifted her weight back and forth. Filled the time looking at the messy bed. The black clothes draped over the chaise longue. The shoes that had been kicked off over by the closet. The towel hanging off the top of the open door into the marble bathroom.

“So…” She cleared her throat. “That is what I came here to say.”

Dearest Virgin Scribe, was this it between them?

“How long?” he asked roughly.

“I’m sorry?”

“How long do you have? Until the next … whatever it is. When was the last one?”

Two weeks … or actually thirteen days. “A month ago. Maybe longer.”

His shoulders eased up. “I meant to ask that before.”

Again he went quiet.

“Trez, I really am sorry—”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re just where you’re at. I’m not offended, and I’m not going to try to change your mind about how you feel.”

“You seem offended.”

“I’m not.”

“Trez—”

“How are you doing?”

“Fine,” she snapped. And then reeled in her temper. “I’m sorry. I just … it’s like you’re freezing me out.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not talking to me.”

“Then why are my lips moving.”

“How is this happening again,” she muttered as she mirrored his pose, crossing her arms over her own chest. “I just want things to be … normal between us.”

“They are.”

“Bullshit! You’re standing over there like a statue—that’s my job, okay? I’m the one who’s supposed to be frozen. Why can’t you be real, and tell me to screw off, or that I was a bitch, or—”

“You want me to be honest?”

“Yes! Damn it.” God, she was sounding less and less like a