Black Dagger Brotherhood 11 - Lover at Last (62 page)

He had no clue what they would find, but that was the point. You didn’t know until you did the

job.

As Qhuinn sent himself forward, he was acutely aware of where Blay was. Yet as he re-formed in

front of the first cabin they came to, he didn’t look over when Blay appeared about five feet away.

Not a good idea. Even though they were on assignment, all he had to do was close his eyes and his

mind was flooded with images of naked bodies intertwined in the dim light of his bedroom.

Further visual confirm that the guy was hot as fuck was not a help.

He was ashamed to admit it, but right now, the only thing keeping him together was the fact that

Blay had promised to come to him at dawn. The aftermath-awkwardness at First Meal had made him

crave the communion even more, to the point where he was shaken by the idea that someday, in the

near future, Saxton would be back and Blay would stop walking over from next door—and then what

the fuck was he going to do.

What a goddamn mess.

At least Layla was doing well: still nauseated and smiling constantly.

Still pregnant, thanks to Blay’s intervention…

“East by northeast,” Rhage said as he consulted the map.

“Roger that,” Qhuinn replied.

And so they went on, going deeper into the territory, the forest fanning out all around them for

hundreds and hundreds of yards…and then by a mile. And then by several miles.

The cabins were largely the same, roughly twenty by twenty, open-spaced in the center, no

bathroom, no kitchen, just a roof and four walls to file down the worst of the weather’s teeth. The farther in they went, the more dilapidated the structures became—and they were all empty. Logical.

This was a long trek if you were on foot—and
lessers
, as strong as they were, couldn’t dematerialize.

At least, most of them couldn’t.

That had to have been the
Fore-lesser
, he thought. Only explanation for how that injured slayer had gone ghost like that.

The seventh cabin they came to was directly on a trail that had been used frequently enough at

some point so that they could still see its path through the evergreens.

This one was missing a number of panes of glass, and its door had been blown open, a snowdrift

barging in like a burglar. Qhuinn crunched grimly through the ice pack, his shitkickers making

mincemeat of the pristine surface as he closed in on the porch. With a flashlight in his left hand and a forty-five in his right, he jumped up under the eaves and leaned in.

Same shit, different dead space.

As he swept the interior, there was a whole lot of absolutely frickin’ nothing. No furniture. Some

built-in shelving that was empty. Cobwebs that waved in the breeze coming through the busted

windowpanes.

“Clear,” he called out.

Turning away, he thought this was bullshit. He wanted to be downtown kicking ass, not out here in

the middle of nowhere, hunting and pecking and coming up with nada.

Rhage put a penlight between his teeth and unfolded the map once again. Making a mark with a

pen, he tapped the heavy paper. “Last one is about a quarter mile to the west.”

Thank. Fuck.

Assuming everything was as snore as it had been, they should be out of this and engaging the

enemy in the alleys within fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.

Piece of cake.

FIFTY-NINE

“You look really happy.”

Layla glanced over. On some level, it was unfathomable that the queen of the race was

propped up next to her on the bed, reading
Us Weekly
and
People
, and watching television. Then again, except for the huge blood red Saturnine Ruby that winked on her finger, she was as normal as could be.

“I am.” Layla put aside the article on the newest season of
The Bachelor
and laid her hand upon her belly. “I am ecstatic.”

Especially given that Payne had stopped by earlier, and appeared to be back to feeling like

herself. Although Layla’s wish for the pregnancy to continue was nearly pathological, the idea that the blessing had come at a cost to the other female had not sat well.

“Do you wish to have young?” Layla blurted. And then had to add, “If it does not offend—”

Beth batted away the concern. “You can ask me anything. And, God, yes. I want some so badly.

It’s funny, back before my change? I had no interest in them—at all. They were a noisy, out-of-control complication that I honestly didn’t know why people bothered to bring into their lives. Then I met

Wrath.” She pushed her dark hair back and laughed. “Needless to say, everything has changed.”

“How many needings have you had?”

“I’m waiting. Praying. Counting down.”

Layla frowned and made busywork opening a new sleeve of saltines. It was hard to remember

much in specific of those crazy hours with Qhuinn—but it had been a trial of epic proportions.

Given the miracle that was still resting within her, it had all been worth it.

However, she couldn’t say she ever wanted to go through her fertile time again. At least not

unmedicated.

“Well, I wish your needing for you soon, then.” Layla bit into yet another cracker, the square

splintering and melting in her mouth. “And I can’t believe I’m saying that.”

“Is it as rough as…I mean, I didn’t get to talk to Wellsie much about hers before she passed, and

Bella’s never said anything about her time.” Beth looked down at the queen’s ring, as if admiring the way its facets captured and reflected the light. “And I don’t know Autumn all that well—she’s lovely, but given everything she and Tohr have just been through, it doesn’t seem an appropriate topic to

bring up with her.”

“It’s mostly a blur, to be honest.”

“Probably a blessing, huh.”

Layla winced. “I wish I could tell you otherwise—but yes, I believe it is a blessing.”

“It’s got to be worth it, though.”

“Without a doubt—I was just thinking that very thing, as a matter of fact.” Layla smiled. “You

know what they say about pregnant females, yes?”

“What?”

“If you spend time with them, they’ll encourage your needing to come.”

“Reeeeeeally.” The queen grinned. “Then you could be the answer to my prayers.”

“Well, I’m not sure whether it’s true. On the Far Side, we’re fertile all the time. It’s only here on Earth that females are subjected to hormone fluctuations—but I have read about the effect in the

library.”

“Then let’s do our own experiment, shall we?” Beth offered her palm for a shake. “Besides, I like

being here. You’re very inspirational.”

Layla’s brows peaked as she shook what was presented to her. “Inspir—oh, no. I cannot see that

at all.”

“Think of everything you’ve been through.”

“The pregnancy has resolved itself, though—”

“Not just that. You’re the survivor of a cult.” As Layla gave her a blank look, the queen asked,

“You’ve never heard of that?”

“I know the word’s definition. But I’m not sure it applies to me.”

The queen glanced away, as if she didn’t want to create discord. “Hey, I could be wrong, and you

would certainly know better than me—besides, you’re happy now, and that’s what matters.”

Layla focused on the television across the way. From what she understood, a cult was not a good

thing, and
survivor
was a term usually associated with people who had been through some kind of trauma.

The Sanctuary had been as placid and temperate as a spring day upon the earth, all the females in

the sacred place calm and at peace with their important duties to the mother of the race.

No coercion. No strife.

For some reason, Payne’s voice entered her mind.

You and I are sisters in my mother’s tyranny—casualties of her grand plan for the way things

must be. We were both jailed by her in different ways, you as a Chosen, myself as her blooded

daughter.

“I’m sorry,” the queen said, reaching out and touching Layla’s arm. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I

honestly don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.”

Layla snapped herself back to attention. “Oh, please, do not concern yourself.” She clasped the

queen’s hand. “I take no offense at all. But now, let us speak of happier things—such as your
hellren
.

He must be impatient for your time to come as well.”

Beth laughed tightly. “That is not exactly where he’s at.”

“Surely he must want an heir?”

“I think he’ll give me one. But only because I want a child as badly as I do.”

“Oh.”

“‘Oh’ is right.” Beth gave Layla’s palm a squeeze. “He just worries too much. I’m strong and

healthy, and ready for it. Now, if I could just get my body to get in gear—hopefully, it will take your cue.”

Layla smiled and rubbed her flat belly. “Did you hear that, little one? You need to help your

queen. It’s important for the royal family to have a young.”

“But it’s not for the throne,” Beth interjected. “Not on my part. I just want to be a mom, and I want to have my husband’s kid. At the core, it’s as simple as that.”

Layla fell silent. She was so glad to have Qhuinn with her on this journey—but it would have

been wonderful to have a proper mate to lie beside her and cradle her during the day, to love her and hold her and tell her that she was precious not solely for what her body could do, but for what she inspired in his heart.

An image of Xcor’s harsh face flashed into her mind’s eye.

Shaking her head, she thought, no, she mustn’t dwell on that. She needed to keep herself calm and

relaxed for the young as surely her stress was transmitted to that which her womb nurtured. Besides, she had already been blessed with much, and if this pregnancy went to term and she lived through the birth?

She had been granted a true and abiding miracle.

“I’m sure it will work out with the king,” she announced. “Fate has a way of giving us what we

need.”

“Amen, sister. Amen.”

Sola pulled her Audi directly into the driveway of the glass house on the river, and she parked right at the rear door of the damn thing.

Getting out, she planted her boots in the snow, put her hand inside her parka on the butt of her gun, and shut the door with her hip. As she marched up to that back entrance, she made eye contact with the roofline.

There had to be security cameras up there.

She didn’t bother to ring the doorbell or knock on the door. He would know she was here. And he

if he wasn’t home? Well, then she’d think of a nice little calling card of some sort to leave him.

Maybe a security alarm that went off? An open window or cupboard?

Or something missing from inside…

The door opened and there he was, live and in person—exactly as he had been the night before,

and yet, as ever, somehow taller, more dangerous, and sexier than she remembered.

“Isn’t this a bit obvious for you?” he drawled.

He was dressed in a dark suit of some designer variety—and the thing had to have been hand-

tailored as well, given the way it fit him so perfectly.

“I’m here to set something straight,” she said.

“And you appear to want to dictate terms.” As if this were a quaint idea. “Anything else? Did you

happen to bring dinner? I’m hungry.”

“Are you going to let me in, or do you want to do this in the cold?”

“Is your hand on a weapon, by any chance?”

“Of course it is.”

“In that case, do come in.”

As he stepped aside, she rolled her eyes. Why the fact that she could shoot him would encourage

the man to let her into his house was a mystery—

Sola froze as she looked into a modern kitchen. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder were two men who

were identical images of each other. They were also as big as the man she’d come for, just as

dangerous—and they each had a gun in their hand.

They had to be the ones who’d been with him under the bridge.

The door clapped shut, and even though her adrenal glands let out a burst of warning, she kept the

reaction to herself.

The one she had come to see smiled as he brushed past her. “These are my associates.”

“I want to speak with you alone.”

The man eased back against a granite counter, put a cigar between his teeth, and lit it with a gold lighter. As he clipped the top shut, he exhaled a puff of blue smoke and looked over at her.

“Gentlemen, will you excuse us for a moment.”

The twin Mr. Happys didn’t look pleased with the dismissal. Then again, you could probably

have tried to give them both a winning lottery ticket and they would have eaten your hand clean off your wrist. Just on principle.

They did walk off, however, moving in a synchronized way that was highly unsettling.

“Where’d you find that pair?” she asked dryly. “The Internet?”