J. Ward - Lover Eternal

John was a problem. A serious problem.

She couldn't believe she hadn't recognized him for what he was right off the bat. Then again, he hadn't gone through the change yet. And why would a vampire be hanging out in Mary's backyard?

Bella nearly laughed. She hung out in Mary's backyard. So why couldn't others like her do the same?

Putting her hands on her hips, she stared at the floor. What the hell was she going to do? When she'd searched John's conscious mind, she'd found nothing about his race, his people, his traditions. The boy didn't know a thing, had no idea who he really was or what he was going to turn into. And he honestly didn't know what those symbols meant.

She did. They spelled out TEHRROR in the Old Language. A warrior's name.

How was it possible he'd been lost to the human world? And how long did he have before his transition hit? He looked as if he was in his early twenties, which meant he had a year or two. But if she was wrong, if he was closer to twenty-five, he could be in immediate danger. If he didn't have a female vampire to help him through the change, he was going to die.

Her first thought was to call her brother. Rehvenge always knew what to do about everything. The problem was, once that male got involved in a situation, he took over completely. And he tended to scare the hell of everyone.

Havers—she could ask Havers for help. As a physician, he could tell how long the boy had before the transition. And maybe John could stay at the clinic until his future was clearer.

Yeah, except he wasn't sick. He was a pretransition male, so he was physically weak, but she'd sensed no illness in him. And Havers ran a medical facility, not some kind of rooming house.

Besides, what about that name? It was a warrior's—

Bingo.

She went out of the kitchen and into the sitting room, heading for the address book she kept on her desk. In the back, on the last page, she'd written a number that had been circulating for the last ten years or so. Rumor had it, that if you called, you could reach the Black Dagger Brotherhood. The race's warriors.

They would want to know there was a boy with one of their names left to fend for himself. Maybe they would take John in.

Her palms were sweaty as she picked up the phone, and she half expected either for the number not to go through or to have it answered by someone telling her to go to hell. Instead, all she got was an electronic voice repeating what she had dialed and then a beep.

"I… ah, my name is Bella. I'm looking for the Brotherhood. I need… help." She left her number and hung up, thinking less was more. If she was misinformed, she didn't want to leave a detailed message on some human's voice mail.

She looked out a window, seeing the meadow and the glow of Mary's house in the distance. She had no idea how long it would take for someone to get back to her, if at all. She should probably go back and find out where the kid lived. And how he knew Mary.

God, Mary . That awful disease was back. Bella had sensed its return and had been debating how to handle what she knew when Mary had mentioned she was going in for her quarterly physical. That had been a couple of days ago, and tonight Bella had planned to ask how things had gone. Maybe she could help the female in some small way.

Moving quickly, she went back to the French doors that faced the meadow. She'd find out more about John and—

The phone rang.

So soon? Couldn't be.

She reached across the counter and picked up the kitchen's extension. "Hello?"

"Bella?" The male voice was low. Commanding.

"Yes."

"You called us."

Holy Moses, it worked.

She cleared her throat. Like any civilian, she knew all about the Brotherhood: their names, their reputations, their triumphs and legends. But she'd never actually met one. And it was a little hard to believe she was talking to a warrior in her kitchen.

So get to the point , she told herself.

"I, ah, I have an issue." She explained to the male what she knew about John.

There was silence for a moment. "Tomorrow night you will bring him to us."

Oh, man . Just how would she pull that off?

"Ah, he doesn't speak. He can hear, but he needs a translator to be understood."

"Then bring one with him."

She wondered how Mary would feel about getting tangled up in their world. "The female he's using tonight is a human."

"We'll take care of her memory."

"How do I get to you?"

"We will send a car for you. At nine o'clock."

"My address is—"

"We know where you live."

As the phone went dead, she shivered a little.

Okay . Now she just had to get John and Mary to agree to see the Brotherhood.

When she got back to Mary's barn, John was sitting at the kitchen table while the female ate some soup. They both looked up as she approached, and she tried to be casual as she sat down. She waited a little bit before throwing the ball out.

"So, John, I know some folks who are into the martial arts." Which wasn't exactly a lie. She'd heard the brothers were good at all kinds of fighting. "And I was wondering, would you have any interest in meeting them?"

John cocked his head and moved his hands around while looking at Mary.

"He wants to know why. For training?"

"Maybe."

John signed some more.

Mary wiped her mouth. "He says that he can't afford the cost of training. And that he's too small."

"If it were free would he go?" God, what was she doing, promising things she couldn't deliver? Heaven knew what the Brotherhood would do with him. "Listen, Mary, I can take him to a place where he can meet… tell him it's a place where master fighters hang out. He could talk to them. Get to know them. He might like to—"

John tugged on Mary's sleeve, signed some, and men stared at Bella.

"He wants to remind you that he can hear perfectly well."

Bella looked at John. "I'm sorry."

He nodded, accepting the apology.

"Just come meet them tomorrow," she said. "What do you have to lose?"

John shrugged and made a graceful movement with his hand.

Mary smiled. "He says okay."

"And you'll have to come, too. To translate."

Mary seemed taken aback, but then stared at the boy. "What time?"

"Nine o'clock," Bella replied.

"I'm sorry, I'll be working then."

"At night. Nine o'clock at night."

Butch walked into One Eye feeling like someone had pulled the stoppers out of a number of his internal organs. Marissa had refused to see him, and though he wasn't surprised, it still hurt like a bitch.

So it was time for some Scotch therapy.

After sidestepping a drunken bouncer, a knot of floozies, and a pair of arm wrestlers, Butch found the troika's regular table. Rhage was in the far corner behind it, up against the wall with a brunette. V was nowhere in sight, but a glass filled with Grey Goose and a knotted drink stirrer were in front of a chair.

Butch was two shots in and not feeling much better when Vishous came out from the back. His shirt was untucked and wrinkled at the bottom, and right on his heels was a black-haired woman. V waved her off when he saw Butch.

"Hey, cop," the brother said as he sat down.

Butch tipped his shot glass. "What's doing?"

"How—"

"No go."

"Aw, hell, man. I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

V's phone went off and he cocked it open. The vampire said two words, put the thing back in his pocket, and reached for his coat.

"That was Wrath. We've got to be back at the house in a half hour."

Butch thought about sitting and drinking alone. That plan had bad idea written all over it. "You want to poof it or ride back with me?"