Where Winter Finds You (Black Dagger Brotherhood #18)- J.R Ward Page 0,9

restaurant.

Every time she told herself to let it go, let it fall, be done with it… at the last minute, her hand refused to release. How in the hell could a symbol of everything that had betrayed her be her talisman? It made no damn sense.

Still, she had had no success arguing with her emotions around it up to this point.

Grabbing her bag, she bolted for the door, stepped out, and locked things. As she proceeded to the stairs, she kept her head down, her hands in her pockets, and her arm clamped down on her purse. The smells were awful. Old cigarettes, drugs she didn’t know the names of but nonetheless now recognized, and old meat that might have also been rotting human skin.

Her feet were fast as she entered the stairwell, and she moved quick on the stairs. If a human male ever aggressed on her, she could take him in a fight even though she was hardly trained for any kind of physical conflict. But that was only if he didn’t have a weapon. A knife? A gun? She would find herself in trouble fast.

At the bottom, she punched out a fire door and strode into the grungy lobby. Someone called after her, but it was not her name that they used, and she was not responding to the rude term. It was a relief to get outside, and that was saying something considering it was arctic cold and snowing.

Heading around the side of her building, she batted the falling snow out of her face and tried to ignore the wail of sirens and the sound of someone screaming far off in the distance. There was also a troubling, repeating banging sound, the kind of thing that she prayed was not a head going into a hard wall.

Closing her eyes, she thought of her shadow lover and it all went away. The memory of him made her feel as safe as if he were actually with her—and yet, as always, when she was fully awake, she couldn’t picture anything about him. Not his face, not his body, not his scent… only his existence was known to her conscious mind, not any of the details that she saw so clearly when she was asleep.

If I just knew his name, she told herself. It would change everything.

That was what was on her mind as she dematerialized, and it was a relief to scatter into a loose group of molecules and ghost away to a safer place. As she resumed her corporeal form behind Salvatore’s Restaurant, she released the breath she had been holding and stepped forward in the foot-deep snow. The parking lot was mostly empty, only staff cars crowded up by the rear entry of the building, and a plow was trying to keep ahead of the storm, pushing more of what was coming down from the sky into piles at the edges.

It was going to be a quiet night because of the weather, and that was probably why her absence had been noted, but fairly well tolerated. The grace period wasn’t going to last long, however. She had already been late once before because she’d overslept.

Stupid humans. Always pounding around above her.

Crazy dream. That wouldn’t leave her in peace.

On the approach to the back door, she stood up the collar on her parka, like that somehow might make her look less late than she was. Which was ridiculous. Pushing her way into the unadorned concrete hall, she stomped most of the snow off her boots and then hurried to the staff locker room. Peeling off her coat, she tossed it and her purse in her locker—

“Are you okay?”

She spun around at the sound of the male voice. Emile Davise was six feet four inches of human male, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a kind smile. Right from the beginning, he had showed her the ropes and a lot of patience—even though he had no idea what he was dealing with, or who he was working for. Sal’s was vampire-owned and -run, although humans were employed. Members of the species kept things very discreet, however.

“Oh, God, Emile.” She sat down and unlaced her boots. “I slept through my alarm again. They’re going to fire me.”

“They will not. I will quit if they do.” He held out a pressed half apron. “I got your tables ready.”

She stopped what she was doing and looked up. “Emile.”

“I had extra time.” He jogged the apron. “Come on, service is starting. We