“And who are you?” Brie asked. “And don’t tell me J.D. I know the name on your credit card is fake.”
“And how do you know that?”
The look she gave him clearly said,Do I look stupid?The answer was no. Even tired and bedraggled from their chase and fight, she looked beautiful, and the keen interest in her eyes was far from stupid.
She had a round face; her bottom lip was full and entirely kissable, while her upper lip was slightly thinner. It was an intriguing difference, and he imagined what it would be like to run his tongue across her full lower lip before playfully nipping at it. He swiftly buried the image.
As he took in more details, he noticed the faint white scar that started at her right temple and ran diagonally across her right eyebrow. Another faint scar marked her alluring bottom lip. And though they were faded, the white marks marring her right cheek looked like something had scraped her flesh.
When she rested her fist on the ground before him, her windbreaker pulled up enough to reveal more scars around her wrist. He couldn’t tell what had caused them, but they were darker and more pronounced than the ones on her face.
If she truly was a purebred vampire, something horrible had happened for those scars to linger, or she’d received them before she stopped ageing. Whatever caused them, and whenever she received them, it was obvious she’d endured something horrible at some point.
Unexpected anger over this realization burrowed deep inside him. If whoever had done this to her was still alive, he’d make them pay.
He jolted at the force of the murderous impulses rushing through him. He was a killer; it was what he’d been bred and raised to become, but he’d always killed to keep others safe.
When she continued to stare expectantly at him, Asher relaxed a little as her tender, ochre-colored eyes eased some of his rage. He recalled what they’d been talking about; she’d asked his name.
Was there some way she could use the information against him? He didn’t think so.
Besides, why would she kill him when she’d warned him against returning to the compound before the Savages destroyed it, injected Logan’s mate Elena with their poisonous shit, and destroyed so much of what he loved? It was a good question, but some vamps could be malicious bastards, and this could all be a game for her.
She wasn’t a Savage—he could tell by her smell—but that didn’t mean she wasn’t cruel or somehow toying with him. Her warning should mark her as someone who wasn’t the enemy, but the ropes binding him told a different story.
She was an enigma of a woman, and he hoped to figure her out soon. His life probably depended on it, but he saw no reason not to give her his name.
“I’m Asher Graham,” he said, “and I’d like to know what I’m doing here.”
“I’m not sure what we’re going to do with you, but the Savages were closing in, and we couldn’t leave you there to die. However, I can’t have you interfering in what I have to do, so you’re tied up to keep you from causing any trouble.”
He studied her so intensely that the hairs on Brie’s nape rose. She couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at her like that. She didn’t think it had ever happened. When his gaze shifted to the scars on her face before falling to her wrists, her eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin.
When he met her gaze again, she braced herself for the pity she was sure to see in his eyes. She’d seen it often enough on the faces of others, but she didn’t care. Her scars were her burden to bear, her reminders of past mistakes she’d vowedneverto repeat but might have with this man.
Why did I warn him about the attack?she pondered morosely.
Uneasiness churned in her belly. If she wasn’t careful with him, she’d end up treading the same path that once cost her the lives of those she loved. There was no pity in his eyes, but the curiosity there unnerved her far more than sympathy would have.
She’d lived with these scars for most of her five hundred years. They were as much a part of her as her fingers.
She’d grown accustomed to seeing them on her body and wasn’t ashamed of them, but that didn’t mean the memory of why she endured them had become easier over the years. And it was not a memory she shared.
Brie rose abruptly. “We’ll bring him inside.”
CHAPTERSIX
“Are you sure?”Cabo asked gruffly.
“We can’t leave him in the van.”
“Why not?”
It was a very good question, and one she didn’t have the answer to, but her dumb-ass conscience wouldn’t allow her to leave him out here. She was still considering how to answer it when Zina opened the side door.
“He’s probably hungry and has to use the bathroom,” Brie said.
“We’ll bring food, and I’ll take him to piss. He doesn’t have to go inside.”
