Where Winter Finds You

by J. R. Ward

  New Year’s Eve, Two Weeks Later

  Upstairs, in the little Cape Cod house, Therese stepped out of the shower—and stopped. On the counter, by the toothpaste she shared with Trez, there was a small wrapped gift. It was nothing big in terms of size—which mean it had to be jewelry.

  She immediately looked to the open doorway. “I thought we agreed,” she called out. “No presents!”

  When she didn’t get an answer, she rolled her eyes and smiled. Wrapping a towel around herself, she picked up the little box with its bow. There was a tag on it that read, “Open Me Now.”

  Laughing, she held the present to her heart. Took a deep breath. And counted her blessings.

  After the fire at the rooming house, thanks to Trez’s blood and the Brotherhood’s excellent medical care, she had bounced back to health within a week. Which, even being fully fed by her mate, and having a vampire’s incredible healing capabilities, had been faster than anyone could have expected, given the seriousness of her injuries.

  They’d been so extensive. And the recovery had been very painful.

  Also, if it wasn’t for the fact that vampires healed without scars as long as they weren’t exposed to salt, she would have been permanently disfigured.

  So, yes, it was the longest seven days of her life, and she was still going to physical therapy, but dear God, it could have been so much worse.

  And Trez, along with her father and her brother—and her mahmen in spirit from her own hospital stay—had been there the whole time. Or rather Rosen and Gareth had gone back and forth between the two clinics, ferried by Fritz, the Perfect Butler, as she had taken to thinking of him as. And she and her mahmen had FaceTimed a lot.

  After which, she had come home to this wonderful little house.

  To her mate.

  She looked down at the little box and marveled at Fate.

  During the fire, something had happened, something that had shifted her internally—and her new perspective was not just the result of her appreciating life so much more after such a close brush with death. No, whatever it was went even deeper than that. She had an awareness of some other part of herself, something that had always been, she now recognized, just under her surface. Not a separate identity, no. It was more… like a prism of her identity, another facet that enhanced the colors she saw and the people she now knew—especially Trez.

  She was just… utterly at peace with him. As if some kind of answer had been given to her. And Trez felt the same.

  Somehow, the discord, the strife, the confusion about who she was to him and who he was to her had all washed away. And anytime her mind was tempted to return to the angst, the warmth in her soul, her happiness, shooed away any doubts. All she knew, all she needed to know, was that she was exactly where she needed to be.

  With exactly who she needed to be with.

  Trez was likewise. As her discharge from the Brotherhood’s clinic had approached, the two of them had talked things out and decided that they would take things slowly. And then they had promptly moved in here together as soon as she was released from that hospital.

  They had never looked back.

  It was as if they had always lived together. And always would.

  “What did you do, Trez,” she murmured as she took off the wrapping paper.

  Yes, it was indeed a jewelry box. A little blue velvet jewelry box.

  Opening the lid, she gasped. Inside, was a gold pendant… of an angel with diamond wings.

  “I figure since we’re believers and all.”

  She looked up at Trez, who had settled in the doorway. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “But I will, anytime I like.” He smiled as he came forward and took the chain the charm was on out of the packing. Hanging the angel around her neck, he smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “Besides, it’s not like a huge rock or anything.”

  “I do not want one of those. I told you.”

  “I’m getting you one anyway.”

  “But I’m going back for my PhD in another three weeks. That’s expensive.” When he just cocked an eyebrow at her, she laughed, held the pendant out, and looked at the angel. “Where did you get this?”

  “Little shop downtown in the financial district. They have a lot of engagement rings there. Maybe we should go look—”

  Therese turned away from the mirror and put her arms around his neck. “Kiss me?”

  “Are you trying to distract me? Because it’s working.”

  Even though they had guests coming in less than an hour, his talented hands found her skin under the towel, and she promptly forgot about all the reasons she needed to rush to get ready.

  Besides, this could be the last time they were alone-alone in the house.

  She eased back. “Are you sure you want my whole family to move in with us?”

  “We have two bedrooms downstairs. And besides, your mahmen needs to be close to Havers’s.”

  “You’re wonderful, you know that?”

  “Yes, I do, but tell me again.”

  Therese opened her mouth to say so, but he put her up on the counter and found his way in between her thighs. There was the sound of a zipper being lowered, and then she gasped.

  Every time they made love, it was a revelation. New and fresh.

  “I’m so happy,” she said as she arched into her male.

  “Me, too,” he moaned as he began to thrust inside of her.

  Moving together, her breasts against one of his perennial silk shirts, her thighs split wide around his hips, his bonding scent in her nose, she revisited the sense that a circle had been completed, and they were safe.

  Together.

  * * *

  Everyone came to the NYE party in the house Trez was busy buying for Therese behind the scenes. All the Brothers. All the shellans. The fighters. Only the King and the Band of Bastards stayed back at the mansion for security purposes. But there was all kinds of FaceTiming going on, so no one felt left out.

  Although thank God for the finished basement and the wide-screen TV, Trez thought as he got out the first of the champagne bottles from the fridge. Lassiter had insisted that the Times Square special be put on, and at least half of the people ended up down there.

  The other half was avoiding New Year’s Rockin’ Eve like the plague.

  *cough*V*cough*

  The food had been a great hit all around, however. Trez had ordered the event catered from the very best Italian restaurant in town, and iAm had more than delivered on the eats. Everybody had tucked into the food, and with the clock closing in on twelve midnight, it was Korbel time.

  “You need someone to ride herd on the flutes?” Xhex asked from over at the kitchen table.

  The two of them had been catching up on all things shAdoWs, and he was almost ready to sign the club over to her. Saxton was drawing up the paperwork, and Trez was looking forward to surprising her with the gift. And after that?

  Well, he was thinking about joining Gareth on the human-law train. And getting into real estate.

  “Sure do,” Trez said as he popped the first cork.

  There was a cheer from the living room, and he leaned around the archway and waved as Butch and Marissa came in the front door.

  Then, he shifted his eyes over to the love seat. Therese’s parents were sitting together, holding hands and smiling like newlymateds. Then again, they were newly back together, in a way. Larisse had rebounded beautifully, and there was hope, with more aggressive management, that she had plenty of good, healthy years ahead of her. And hey, she was making it to midnight, which was awesome considering she had only been released the night before.

  Under doctor’s orders, though, Trez was closing the party down at 12:45 on her behalf. And also because he and his Therese had some more private celebrating to do. That quickie on the counter in the bathroom had only whetted his appetite.

  As Xhex brought the tray of flutes over, Trez started pouring—

  “Uncle Trez, that’s my card!”


  He glanced behind himself. Bitty was standing in front of the refrigerator and pointing at the Christmas card she had made for him.

  “Yes,” he said. “I told you I love it.”

  “Right on your door!” She skipped over and tugged him down to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I need to go find Auntie Therese.”

  “She’s playing Mario in her brother’s room downstairs.”

  “Thank you,” the little female said as she skipped off through the crowd.

  For a split second, Trez stared at the drawn image of him next to his female, her with her silver skin and her smile, him holding her hand, a big gold star over them both.

  It was the most perfect depiction he could imagine of his life, of the union between him and his mate. Somehow, he knew the truth behind the impossibility. He knew that his female was back with him, had never really left him. He couldn’t describe the particulars—somehow, they were out of reach, but he was at peace with the blind spot.

  As was everyone else.

  It all just made… sense, somehow.

  A puzzle completed, with no missing pieces.

  And yup, today, when he’d been downtown, heading for the club in his car, he’d passed by a jewelry store with this display of engagement rings and glittering things in the window. Not really understanding why, he’d felt compelled to park in a surface lot and walk three blocks in the cold to stand in front of the store. There had been a lot of those rings, but Therese wasn’t flashy like that. As she’d said, she’d much rather have the money go to her PhD in civil engineering.

  Which was going to help when she worked with Wrath on some building projects. She just didn’t know that was going to happen yet.

  Trez had looked at all the jewelry store’s wares, all the crosses, too, but nothing had really felt right. Except then he’d seen the angel.

  Perfect, he’d thought. Even though he’d never really had an affinity for them before.

  “Trez?” Xhex said softly. “You okay?”

  He shook himself back to the present and smiled at his old friend. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  Those gunmetal grays were warm as she smiled back. “I do. I really do.”

  “This is going to be a great year coming up, I can just feel it.”

  “You know, I have to agree with you.”

  As the minutes got tighter before midnight, somehow they all squeezed into the basement, with Therese’s parents being given the best seats in the house, right in front of the TV. With champagne at the ready, and the ball in Times Square beginning to drop, Trez put his arm around Therese, drawing her in tight against him.

  The crowd started to chant. “Ten, nine, eight…”

  He leaned to her ear. “I love you.”

  She smiled up at him. “I love you, too.”

  “…seven, six, five…”

  Glancing to his left, he smiled at iAm and maichen, who was just starting to show. They smiled back at him.

  “…four, three, two…”

  With one, unified voice, everybody in the house yelled, “Happy New Year!”

  As “Auld Lang Syne” started up, and couples kissed, Trez stared into the eyes of his one true love.

  “Forever,” he said.

  Therese nodded. “Forever.”

  They kissed, and as he straightened, he caught sight of Lassiter, the Fallen Angel. The male raised his champagne glass in their direction with a self-satisfied expression. Then he pointed to his throat and gave the thumbs-up, like he approved of Trez’s gift.

  “A job well done indeed,” Trez murmured as he hugged his female and thanked every blessing he had ever been given.

  Turned out that star he’d been born under? It had been a pretty damn good one, after all.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  With so many thanks to the readers of the Black Dagger Brotherhood books! This has been a long, marvelous, exciting journey, and I can’t wait to see what happens next in this world we all love. I’d also like to thank Meg Ruley, Rebecca Scherer and everyone at JRA, and Lauren McKenna, Jennifer Bergstrom, and the entire family at Gallery Books and Simon & Schuster.

  To Team Waud, I love you all. Truly. And as always, everything I do is with love to and adoration for both my family of origin and of adoption.

  Oh, and thank you to Naamah, my WriterDog II, who works as hard as I do on my books!

  Keep reading for an exclusive excerpt of J. R. Ward’s

  THE SINNER

  The eighteenth Black Dagger Brotherhood novel!

  Coming March 2020 from Gallery Books

  CHAPTER ONE

  Behind the wheel of her ten-year-old car, Jo Early bit into the Slim Jim and chewed like it was her last meal. She hated the fake-smoke taste and the boat-rope texture, and when she swallowed the last piece, she got another one out of her bag. Ripping the wrapper with her teeth, she peeled the taxidermied beef free and littered into the wheel well of the passenger side. There were so many others like it down there, you couldn’t see the floor mat.

  Up ahead, her anemic headlights swung around a curve, illuminating pine trees that had been limbed up three-quarters of the way, the puffy tops making toothpicks out of the trunks. She hit a pothole and bad-swallowed, and she was coughing as she reached her destination.

  The abandoned Adirondack Outlets was yet another commentary on the pervasiveness of Amazon Prime. The one-story strip mall was a horseshoe without a hoof, the storefronts along the two long sides bearing the remnants of their brands, ghostly laminations and off-kilter signs with faded names like Van Heusen/Izod, and Nike, and Dansk. Behind the dusted glass, there was no merchandise available for purchase anymore, and no one had been on the property with a charge card for at least a year, only hardscrabble weeds in the cracks of the promenade and barn swallows in the eaves inhabiting the site. Likewise, the food court that united the eastern and western arms was no longer offering soft serve, Starbucks, or lunch.

  As a hot flash cranked her internal temperature up, she cracked the window. And then put it all the way down. March in Caldwell, New York, was like winter in a lot of places still considered northerly in latitude, and thank God for it. Breathing in the cold, damp air, she told herself this was not a bad idea.

  Nah, not at all. Here she was, alone at midnight, chasing down the lead on a story she wasn’t writing for her employer, the Caldwell Courier Journal. Without anyone at her new apartment waiting up for her. Without anyone on the planet who would claim her mangled corpse when it was found from the smell in a ditch a week from now.

  Letting the car roll to a stop, she killed the lights and stayed where she was. No moon out tonight, so she’d dressed right. All black. But without any illumination from the heavens, her eyes strained at the darkness, and not because she was greedy to see the details on the decaying structure.

  Unease tickled her nape, like someone was trying to get her attention by running the point of a carving knife over her skin—

  As her stomach let out a howl, she jumped. And went diving into her purse again. Passing by the three Slim Jims she had left, she went straight-up Hershey this time, and the efficiency with which she stripped that mass-produced chocolate of its clothing was a sad commentary on her diet. When she was finished, she was still hungry, and not because there wasn’t food in her belly. As always, the only two things she could eat failed to satisfy her gnawing craving, to say nothing of her nutritional needs.

  Putting up her window, she took her backpack and got out. The crackling sound of the treads of her running shoes on the shoulder of the road seemed loud as a concert, and she wished she wasn’t getting over a cold. Like her sense of smell could be helpful, though? And when was the last time she’d considered that possibility outside of a milk-carton check.

  She really needed to give these wild-goose chases up.

  Two-strapping her backpack, she locked the car and pulled the hood of her windbreaker up over her red hair. No heel-toeing. She left-right-left’d with the soles of her
Brooks flat to quiet her footfalls. As her eyes adjusted, all she saw were the shadows around her, the hidey-holes in corners and nooks formed by the doorways and the benches, pockets of gotcha with which mashers could play a child’s game of keep-away until they were ready to attack.

  When she got to a heavy chain that was strung across her path, she looked around. There was nobody in the parking lots that ran down the outside of the flanks. No one in the promenade formed by the open-ended rectangle. Not a soul on the road that she had taken up to this rise above Route 149.

  Jo told herself that this was good. It meant no one was going to jump her.

  Her adrenal gland, on the other hand, informed her that this actually meant no one was around to hear her scream for help.

  Refocusing on the chain, she had some thought that if she swung her leg over it and proceeded on the other side, she would not come back the same.

  “Stop it,” she said, kicking her foot up.

  She chose the right side of the stores, and as rain started to fall, she was glad the architect had thought to cover the walkways overhead. What had not been so smart was anyone thinking a shopping center with no interior corridors could survive in a place this close to Canada. Saving ten bucks on a pair of candlesticks or a bathing suit was not going to keep anybody warm October to April, and that was true even before you factored in the current environment of free next-day shipping.

  Down at the far end, she stopped at what had to have been the ice cream place because there was a faded stencil of a cow holding a triple-decker cone by its hoof on the window. She got out her phone.

  Her call was answered on the first ring. “Are you okay?” Bill said.

  “Where am I going?” she whispered. “I don’t see anything.”

  “It’s in the back. I told you that you have to go around back, remember.”

  “Damn it.” Maybe the nitrates had fried her brain. “Hold on, I think there’s a staircase over here.”

  “I think I should come out.”

  Jo started walking again and shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “I’m fine—yup, I’ve got the cut-through to the rear. I’ll call you if I need you—”