Free Lover Eternal: A Novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood by J. R. Ward Page A

is?"
     
"It's a facility."
     
"A facility."
     
"You know, for training."
     
Yeah, but for what kind of training ? "Are these folks of yours with the government or something?"
     
"Oh, no. No."
     
John signed, This doesn't look like a martial-arts academy .
     
Yeah, no kidding.
     
"What did he say?" Bella asked.
     
"He's as curious as I am."
     
Mary turned back to the door, opened it, and stuck her head out into the hall. When she heard a rhythmic sound, she stepped from the room, but didn't wander.
     
Footsteps. No, a shuffling. What the—
    A tall blond man dressed in a black muscle shirt and leather pants lurched around a corner. He was unsteady on His bare feet, with one hand on the wall and his eyes focused downward. He seemed to be watching the floor carefully, as if he were relying on his depth perception to balance himself.
    He looked drunk or maybe sick, but… good lord, he was beautiful. In fact, his face was so dazzling she had to blink a couple of times. Perfectly square jaw. Full lips. High cheekbones. Broad forehead. Hair was thick and wavy, lighter in the front, darker in the back where it was cut short
And his body was just as spectacular as his head. Big-boned.
     
Thickly muscled. No fat. His skin was golden even under the fluorescent lights.
     
Suddenly he looked at her. His eyes were an electric teal blue, so bright, so vivid, they were almost neon. And they stared right through her.
     
Mary sank back just the same and thought the lack of response wasn't a surprise. Men like him didn't notice women like her. It was a fact of nature.
     
She should just go back into the room. There was no sense in watching him not acknowledge her as he passed. Trouble was, the closer he got, the more mesmerized she became.
     
God, he really was… beautiful.
    Rhage felt like holy hell as he weaved down the corridor. Every time the beast came out of him and his vision headed off for a little vacation, his eyes took their own sweet time in getting back to work. The body didn't want to play, either, his legs and arms hanging like heavy weights off his torso, not exactly useless, but damn close.
And his stomach was still off. The very idea of food made him nauseous.
    But he'd had it with being stuck in his room. Twelve hours flat on his back was enough wasted time. He was determined to get to the training center's gym, hop on a recumbent bike, and loosen himself up a little—
He stopped, tensing. He couldn't see much, but he knew for sure he was not alone in the hall. Whoever it was stood close beside him, to his left. And it was a stranger.
    He spun around and yanked the figure out of a doorway, grabbing it by the throat, forcing the body into the opposite wall. Too late he realized it was a female, and the high-pitched gasp shamed him. He quickly eased up on his grip, but he did not let go.
The slender neck under his palm was warm, soft. Her pulse was frantic, blood racing through the veins that came up from her heart. He leaned down and drew a breath through his nose. Only to jerk back.
     
Jesus Christ, she was a human. And she was sick, maybe dying. "Who are you?" he demanded. "How did you get in here?"
     
There was no answer, just quick breathing. She was utterly terrified of him, the smell of her fear like wood smoke in his nose.
     
He softened his voice. "I'm not going to hurt you. But you don't belong here, and I want to know who you are."
     
Her throat undulated under his hand, as if she were swallowing "My name… my name is Mary. I'm here with a friend."
     
Rhage stopped breathing. His heart skipped a beat and then slowed.
     
"Say that again," he whispered.
     
"Ah, my name is Mary Luce. I'm a friend of Bella's… We came here with a boy, with John Matthew. We were invited."
    Rhage shivered, a balmy rush blooming out all over his skin. The musical lilt of her voice, the rhythm of her speech, the sound of her words, it all spread through him, calming him, comforting him. Chaining him sweetly.
He