J. Ward: Dark Lover

But he was alive. For now.

And he'd stirred to consciousness, even if it was just for a moment.

It was like that for the next two days. He would surface and sink, surface and sink, as if he had to keep checking that she was with him before he went back to the herculean job of healing his body.

Eventually, she had to sleep, so the brothers brought in a more comfortable chair, and someone gave her a pillow and a blanket. She woke up an hour later, still clutching Wrath's hand.

She ate when she was forced to, because Tohrment or Wellsie demanded that she did. And she took a shower in the anteroom. Quickly. When she got back, Wrath's legs and arms were flailing wildly and Wellsie had called for Havers.

The instant Beth took Wrath's hand, he calmed right down. She didn't know how long the waiting would go on. But every time he came back to her, she drew a little strength. She could wait. For an eternity, she could wait for him.

Wrath's mind came back online in a rush of activity. One minute he wasn't aware of anything; the next, his circuits started firing again. He didn't know where he was, and his eyelids were too heavy to open, so he did a quick scan of his body. Lower half felt okay, toes moved, legs were still attached. Whoa, ouch . His stomach felt like it had been punched with a tire iron. But his chest was solid. Neck was burning. Head was achy. Arms were good. Hands-

Beth.

He was used to feeling her palm against his. Where was she?

His eyes flipped open.

She was right beside him, sitting in a chair, her head down on the bed as if she were asleep. His first thought was that he shouldn't wake her up. She was obviously exhausted.

But he wanted to touch her. Needed to.

He tried to reach out with his free hand, but his arm felt like it weighed four hundred pounds. He struggled, willing the limb across his body, dragging it over the bedcovers inch by inch. He didn't know how long it took. Maybe hours.

But then he finally touched a lock of her hair. The silken feel of it was a miracle.

He was alive, and so was she.

Wrath started to cry.

The instant Beth felt the bed shudder, she woke up in a panic. The first thing she saw was Wrath's hand. His fingers were wrapped around a long strand of her hair.

She looked up at his face. Tears were rolling out of his eyes.

"Wrath! Oh, love." She leaned up to him, smoothed his hair back. He was totally distressed. "Are you hurting?"

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He started to panic, his eyes peeling open until the whites showed.

"Easy, love, take it easy. Just relax," she said. "I want you to squeeze my hand, once for yes, twice for no. Are you in pain?"

No.

She gently stroked the tears from his whiskered cheeks. "Are you sure?"

Yes.

"Do you want me to get Havers?"

No.

"Do you need anything?"

Yes.

"Food? Drink? Blood?"

No.

He began to get agitated, his pale, wild eyes imploring her.

"Shhh, it's okay." She kissed his forehead. "Just calm down. We'll figure out what you need. We've got plenty of time."

His eyes fixated on their linked hands and came back to her face. Then his gaze locked on their hands and returned again.

"Me?" she whispered. "You need me?"

He squeezed and wouldn't stop.

"Oh, Wrath… You have me. We're together, love."

Tears poured out of him in a mad rush, his chest quaking from the sobs, his breathing jagged and raw.

She took his face in his hands, trying to soothe him. "It's all right. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to leave you. I promise you. Oh, love…"

Eventually he relaxed a little. The tears slowed.

A croak came out of his mouth.

"What?" She leaned down.

"Wanted to… save you."

"You did. Wrath, you did save me."

His lips trembled. "Love. You."

She kissed him gently on the mouth. "I love you, too."

"You. Go. Sleep. Now."

And then he closed his eyes from exhaustion.

Her vision went blurry as she put her hand over her mouth and started to smile. Her beautiful warrior was back. And trying to order her around from his hospital bed.

Wrath sighed and seemed to sink into sleep.

When she was sure he was resting peacefully, she stretched, thinking the brothers would appreciate knowing that he'd woken up and been well enough to talk a little. Maybe she could find a phone and call the house.

When she peered into the hall, she couldn't believe what she saw.

Right in front of the OR's door, in a great, breathing barrier, the brothers and Butch were sprawled out on the floor. The men were fast asleep, looking as exhausted as she felt. Vishous and Butch were propped up against the wall next to each other, a little TV and two guns between them. Rhage was flat on his back, snoring softly, with dagger in hand. Tohrment had his head balanced on his knees. Phury was lying on his side, clutching a throwing star to his chest as if it soothed him.

Where was Zsadist?

"I'm over here," he said quietly.

She jumped and looked to her right. Zsadist was fully armed, gun strapped on his hip, daggers crossed over his chest, length of chain shifting in his hand. His glittering black eyes regarded her steadily.

"It's my turn to stand guard. We've been taking shifts."

"Is it so dangerous here?"

He frowned. "You don't know?"

"What?"

He shrugged and looked down the hall. One way, then the other. Scanning.

"The brotherhood protects what is ours." His eyes refo-cused on her. "We would never leave you or him undefended."

She sensed he was evading, but wasn't about to press. All that mattered was that she and Wrath were safe as her husband's body healed.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Zsadist looked down quickly.

How he hides from any warmth , she thought.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Four in the afternoon. It's Thursday, by the way." Zsadist brushed a hand over his skull trim. "So, ah, how's he doing?"

"He woke up."

"I knew he'd live."

"Did you?"

His lip lifted in a snarl, as if he were going to make some kind of crack. But then he seemed to catch himself. He stared at her, his scarred face remote.

"Yeah, Beth. I really did. No shotgun's ever going to keep him from you."

And then Zsadist's eyes shifted away.

The others started to stir. A moment later, they were all on their feet, staring down at her. Butch, she noted, seemed right at home with the vampires.

"How's he feeling?" Tohr asked.

"Good enough to try to tell me what to do."

The brothers laughed in a rush. The sound was one of relief. Of pride. Of love.

"Either of you need anything?" Tohr asked.

Beth looked at their faces. Each one was expectant. As if they hoped she would give them something to do.

This really is my family , she thought.

"I think we're okay." Beth smiled. "And I'm sure he's going to want to see all of you soon."

"What about you?" Tohr asked. "How're you holding up? You want to take a break?"

She shook her head and pushed open the OR's door. "Until he can walk out of here on his own two feet, I'm not leaving that bedside."

As the door closed behind Beth, Butch heard Vishous whistle under his breath.

"That is one fine female, true?" V said.

There was a low, affirmative grumble.

"And someone you do not want to mess with," the brother continued. "Man, you should have seen her when we came into that barn. She was standing over his body, ready to take the cop and me on with her bare hands if she had to. Like Wrath was her cub, you feel me?"

"Wonder if she has a sister?" Rhage asked.

Phury laughed. "You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if you ran into a female of worth."