Man, he just couldnt fucking take this.
Spiriting himself out into the corridor, he walked alone down the hall of statues to the head of the great staircase. Planting his ass on the top step, he listened to the sounds of the house. Down below, the doggen were cleaning up after Last Meal, their cheerful running commentary like chamber music in the background, all bippity-boppity, busy-busy. Behind him, in the study, the king and queen were working, so to speak, Wraths bonding scent thick in the air, Beths hitched breathing very quiet. The rest of the house was relatively quiet, the other Brothers and shellans and guests retiring for sleep or other things along the lines of what the royal couple were up to.
Lifting his eyes, he focused on the painted ceiling that was high above the mosaic floor of the foyer. Over the heads of the depicted warriors on their fearsome, grimacing steeds, the blue sky and white clouds were kind of ridiculousafter all, vampires couldnt fight during the day. But, whatever, that was the beauty of representing reality instead of being in it: When you had the paintbrush in your hand, you were the god you wished ruled your life, capable of picking and choosing among fates catalog of wares and destinys deck of cards to your prolonged and sustained advantage.
Peering into the clouds, he waited for the figure he was looking for to appear, and soon it did.
Wellesandra was seated in a vast, desolate field, the endless gray plain studded with large boulders, the merciless wind blowing at her from all directions. She was not doing as well as she had been when hed first seen her. Beneath the gray blanket that she clutched to herself and the young, she had grown paler, her red hair fading to a dull stain, her skin going pasty, her eyes no longer any discernible shade of sherry brown. And the babe in her arms, the tiny, swaddled bundle, didnt move as much anymore.
This was the tragedy of the In Between. Unlike the Fade, it wasnt meant to be forever. It was a way station to a final destination, and everyones was a little different. The only thing that was the same? If you stayed too long, you couldnt get out. No eternal grace for you.
You just transitioned into a Dhund-like nothingness, with no chance of ever getting free of the void.
And these two were reaching the end of their rope.
Im doing the best I can, he said to them. Just hold on fucking hell, just hold on.
EIGHT
The first thing Xhex did when she checked back into consciousness was look for John in the recovery room.
He wasnt in the chair across the way. Wasnt on the floor, propped up in the corner. Wasnt on the bed beside her.
She was alone.
Where the hell was he?
Oh, yeah, sure. He crawled all over her in the field, but then he left her here? Had he even come back for her operation?
With a groan, she considered rolling onto her side, but with all the IV lines in her arm and wires on her chest, she decided not to fight her plug-ins. Well, and then there was the happy fact that someone had drilled a large bore hole in her shoulder. A number of times.
Lying there with a snarl on her face, everything about the room annoyed her. The blow of the heat from the ceiling, the whirring sound of the machines behind her head, the sheets that felt like sandpaper, the rock-hard pillow and the too-soft mattress
Where the fuck was John?
For the love of God, she may have made a mistake mating him. The loving him thing was what it wasno changing that, and she wouldnt want to. But she should have known better than to make things official. Even though the traditional sex roles of vampires were changing, thanks in large part to Wrath loosening up the Old Ways, there was still a load of patriarchal shit surrounding shellans. You could be a friend, a girlfriend, a lover, a coworker, a car mechanic, for fucks sake, and expect your life to be your own.
But she feared that once your name was in the back of a maleand worse, a full-blooded warrior malethings changed. Expectations shifted.
Your mate started getting up in your face and thinking you couldnt take care of yourself.
Where was John?
Fed up, she shoved herself off the pillows, took out her IV and clipped the end so that the saline and whatever else didnt drip all over the floor. Next she silenced the heart monitor behind her, and then ripped the pads off her chest with her free hand.
She kept her right arm immobilized against her rib cageshe just needed to walk, not wave a flag.
At least she didnt have a catheter.
Putting her feet on the linoleum, she stood up carefully and gave herself props for being such a good little patient. In the bathroom, she washed her face, brushed her teeth, used the loo.
When she came back out, she expected to see John in one of the two doorways.
Nope.
Going around the end of the bed, she took things slowly, because her body was logy from the drugs, the operation, and the fact that she needed to feedalthough shit knew, scoring Johns vein was the last thing she was interested in. The longer he stayed away, the more she didnt want to see his hairy ass.
Goddamn it.
Over at the closet, she opened the paneled doors, ditched her johnny, and changed into some scrubswhich, of course, were not her size, but male-sized. And wasnt that a metaphor. As she struggled to dress with one hand, she cursed John, the Brotherhood, the role of shellans, females in general and especially the shirt and pants, as she struggled to one-handedly roll up the bottoms that pooled around her feet.
As she marched for the door, she studiously ignored the fact that she was looking for her mate, and instead focused on the songs going through her head, little a cappella versions of such happy Top 40 hits as What Gave Him the Right to Call Her Out on the Field, How in the Hell Could He Have Left Her Down Here Alone, and the ever-popular standby All Males are Morons.
Doo-dah, doo-dah.
Tearing open the door, she
Across the corridor, John was sitting on the hard floor, knees peaked like tent poles, arms crossed around his chest. His eyes met hers the instant she made an appearancenot because he looked her way, but because he had been focused on the space she would fill long before she had actually come out.
The ranting in her brain silenced: He looked like he had been through hell and had carried the flames of the devils living room back in his bare hands.
Unwrapping his arms, he signed, I thought you might like your privacy.
Well, shit. There he went, ruining her bad temper.
Shuffling over, she eased herself down beside him. He didnt help her, and she knew he was doing that on purposeas a way to honor her independence.
Guess this was our first fight, she said.
He nodded. I hated it. The whole thing. And Im sorryI just I cant explain what came over me, but when I saw you injured, I snapped.
Her exhale was long and slow. You were okay with me fighting. Right before we were mated, you said you were cool with it.
I know. And I still am.
You sure about that.
After a moment, he nodded again. I love you.
Me, too. I mean, you. You know.
But he hadnt really answered her, had he. And she didnt have the energy to follow up any further. The pair of them just sat on that floor in silence until eventually she reached out and took his hand.
I need to feed, she said roughly. Will you
His eyes shot to hers and his head bobbed. Always, he mouthed.
She got to her feet without his aid and extended her free hand to him. When he took her palm, she summoned her strength and pulled him up. Then she led him into the recovery room, and locked the doors with her mind as he sat down on the bed.
He was rubbing his palms on his leathers as if he were nervous, and before she could go over to him, he jumped up. I need to shower. I cant get close to you like thisIm covered in blood.
God, she hadnt even noticed he was still in his fighting clothes. Okay.
They traded places, she heading for the edge of the mattress, he going for the bathroom to turn on the hot water. He left the door open so as he stripped off his muscle shirt, she watched his shoulders bunch and twist.
Her name, Xhexania, was not just tattooed, but carved in beautiful symbols across his back.
As he bent down to draw off his leathers, his ass made a stupendous appearance, his heavy thighs flexing as he shucked one leg and then the other. When he got in the shower, he went out of eyeshot, but he returned soon thereafter.
He was not aroused, she realized.
First time for that. Especially as she was about to feed.
John wrapped a towel around his hips and tucked the end in at his waist. As he turned to her, his grave eyes made her sad. Would you like me to put on a robe?
What the hell had happened to them? she thought. And for fucks sake, they had been through too much just to get to what should be the good stuff only to screw it up.
No. She shook her head and wiped her eyes. Please no
As he came forward, he kept that towel right where it was.
When he got in front of her, he sank down onto his knees and put up his wrist. Take from me. Please let me take care of you.
Xhex leaned in and clasped his hand. Passing her thumb back and forth over his vein, she felt the connection rise between them once again, that link that had been sliced through in the alley reknitting, an injury healing.
Reaching out, she clasped the back of his neck and brought his mouth to hers. Kissing him slowly, thoroughly, she spread her legs, making room for him as he eased forward, his hips finding the place that was his and his alone.
When the towel hit the floor, her hand went to his sexand found that it had hardened.
Just as she wanted it to.
Stroking him, she curled her upper lip, exposing her fangs. Then, tilting her head to the side, she ran one razor-sharp tip up his neck.
His huge body shudderedso she repeated the motion, this time with her tongue. Come up on the bed with me.
John wasted no time, filling the space she vacated as she pushed herself back to make room for him.
Lot of eye contact. As if they were both reacquainting themselves with each other.
Taking his hand, she put it on her hip as she rolled into him, and as their bodies made contact, his grip tightened, his bonding scent flaring.
Shed intended to keep things slow and low-key. But their flesh had a different plan. Need grabbed the reins and took over, and she struck his throat with a powerful lunge, taking what she had to have to survive and be at her strongestand also marking him in her own way. In response, his body jacked against her own, his erection wanting inside of her.
While she took great drags on his vein, she struggled to get her scrubs offbut he took care of that for her, gripping the waist and yanking the pants so hard the fabric split on a clean, screaming rip. And then his hand was right where she wanted it to be, moving against her core, slipping and sliding, teasing and then entering her. Working herself against his long, penetrating fingers, she found a rhythm that was guaranteed to get them both off, her moans competing in her throat with the blood she was downing at an alarming rate.
After her first orgasm, she shifted aroundwith his helpand straddled his hips. She needed to stay relatively still to keep locked on his throat, but he took care of the motion side of things, pumping up against her, closing in and retreating, creating that friction they both wanted.
When she came a second time, she had to retract her mouth from his flesh and call out his name. And as he pulsed deep within her, she stopped moving and absorbed the sensation of the kicking and jerking, so familiar, and yet so fresh.
Jesus what an expression he had his eyes squeezed shut, his teeth bared, the muscles in his neck straining, all while a streak of delicious red left the puncture marks she had yet to lick closed.
When his lids finally opened, she stared hard at the blissed-out haze in those blue eyes of his. His love for her wasnt just emotional; there was an undeniable physical component to it. That was the way bonded males worked.
Maybe he couldnt have stopped himself in that alley, she thought. Maybe that was the beast inside the civilized shell, the animal part of vampires that separated the species from those watered-down humans.
Dipping low, she licked at his neck, lapping the wounds shut, savoring the taste that clung to the inside of her mouth and the expressway of her throat. Already she could feel the power coursing out from her gut, and this was just the beginning. As her body absorbed what he had given her, she was just going to feel stronger and stronger.
I love you, she said.
With that, she drew him up off the pillows so she was sitting in his lap, his arousal pushing even deeper inside her core. Palming the back of his neck with her free hand, she brought him to her vein and held him in place.
He didnt need any more urging than thatand the pain that came with his strike was a sweet sting that carried her right back over the edge of release, her sex milking him into another orgasm, working against his shaft, squeezing him, pulling at him.
Johns arms locked around her, and the sight of them out of the corner of her eye made her frown. They were huge, bulging limbs that, in spite of how strong she was, could lift more, strike harder, punch faster. They were bigger than her thighs, thicker than her waist.
Their bodies were not, in fact, created equal, were they. He was always going to be more powerful than her.
A reality, sure. But how much someone could bench-press was not the determining factor when it came to competence in the field; nor was it the only way to judge a fighter. She was just as accurate a shooter, just as good with a dagger, and equally furious and tenacious when faced with prey.
She simply had to make him see that.
Biology was one thing. But even males had a brain.
When the sex was finally over, John lay beside his mate, utterly sated and sleepy. It would probably be a good idea to scrounge up some food, but he didnt have the energy or inclination.
He didnt want to leave her. At this moment. Ten minutes from now. Tomorrow, next week, next month
As she curled into him, he snagged a blanket from the side table and draped it over the two of them, even though the combination of their body heat was keeping them pretty damn toasty.
He was well aware of when she fell asleepher breathing changed and her leg twitched from time to time.
He wondered if she was kicking him in the ass in her dreams.
He had shit to work on; that was for sure.
And no one to go to talk about itit wasnt like he could ask Tohr for anything more than the advice hed gotten on the fly tonight. And everybody elses relationships were perfect. All he ever saw at the dining table were happy, smiling coupleshardly the sounding board he was looking for.
He could just picture the response: Youre having problems? Really? Huh, thats weird maybe you could call in to the radio or some shit?
The only thing that would change would be whether that was delivered by someone with a goatee, a pair of wraparounds, a mink duster, a Tootsie Roll in his piehole.
He had this moment of peace, though. And he and Xhex could build on it.
They were going to have to.
You were okay with me fighting. Right before we were mated, you said you were cool with it.
And he really had been. But that was before hed seen her cut right in front of him.
The thing was and as much as it pained him to admit this the last thing he wanted to be was the Brother he admired the most. Now that he had Xhex properly, the idea of losing her and stepping into Tohrs boots was the single most terrifying thing hed ever faced.
He had no idea how the Brother was getting out of bed every night. And frankly, if he hadnt already forgiven the guy for taking off and disappearing right afterward, he would have now.
He thought of that moment when Wrath and the Brotherhood had come to them in a group. He and Tohr had been in the office here at the training center, with the Brother calling home time and time again, hoping, praying for something other than voice mail.
In the corridor outside the office, there were fissures in the massive concrete wallsin spite of the fact that the damn things were eighteen-inch-thick concrete: Tohrs release of energy from his anger and pain had been so great he had literally exploded himself to God only knew where, shaking the subterranean foundation until it cracked.
John still didnt know where hed gone. But Lassiter had brought him back in bad shape.
He remained in bad shape.
Selfish though it was, John didnt want that for himself. Tohr was half the male he had once beenand not just because hed lost weightand though no one would have shown pity to the guys face, each and every one of the fighters felt it behind closed doors.
Hard to know how much longer the Brother was going to last out there with the enemy. He was refusing to feed, so he was weakening, yet every night he went into the field, his need for revenge getting sharper and more consuming.
He was going to get himself killed. End of.
It was like triangulating the impact of a car into an oak tree: a simple matter of geometry. You just drew out the angles and trajectories and boom! There was Tohr, dead on the pavement.
Although, shit, hed probably take his last breath with a smile, knowing he was finally going to be with his shellan.
Maybe that was why John was as stressed about the Xhex thing as he was. He was close to other people in the house, to his half sister, Beth, to Qhuinn and Blay, to the other Brothers. But Tohr and Xhex were his go-to peopleand the idea of losing them both?
Fuuuuuck.
Thinking about Xhex in the field, he knew that if she was out there in those alleys, fighting the enemy, she was going to get hurt again. They all did from time to time. Most of the injuries were near misses, but you never knew when that line was going to be crossed, when a simple hand-to-hand engagement would get away from you and youd find yourself surrounded.
It wasnt that he doubted her or her capabilitiesin spite of that potshot that had come out of his mouth tonight. It was the odds he didnt like. Soon enough, if you rolled the dice over and over again, you were going to come up snake eyes. And in the larger scheme of things, her life was more important than one more fighter out in the field.
He should have thought about this a little more before going all, Yeah, sure, Im tight with you fighting.
What are you thinking about? she asked in the darkness.
As if what was banging through his brain had woken her up.
Rearranging himself, he put his head next to hers and shook it back and forth. But he was lying. And she probably knew it.
NINE
The following evening, Qhuinn stood in the far corner of Wraths study, wedged into the juncture of two pale blue walls. The room was huge, a good forty feet long and forty feet across, and it had a ceiling lofty enough to give you a nosebleed. But space was getting tight.
Then again, there were a dozen or so big people packed in around the prissy French furniture.
Qhuinn knew from the French shit. His dead-and-gone mother had liked the style, and back before hed been disavowed from his family, hed been yammered at ad nauseam about not sitting on her Louis-the-somethingth crap.
At least that was one area where he hadnt been discriminated against in his own houseshed wanted only her and his sister to park it in those delicate seats. He and his brother had not been permitted. Ever. And his father had been tolerated with a grimace, likely only because hed paid for the stuff a couple hundred years before.
Whatever.
At least Wraths command central made sense. The kings chair was as big as a car and probably weighed as much as one, its rugged yet elegant carvings marking it as the throne of the race. And the huge desk in front of him wasnt exactly fit for a girl, either.
Tonight, and as usual, Wrath looked like the killer he was: silent, intense, deadly. Your basic antiAvon lady. Beside him, Beth, his queen and shellan, was composed and serious. And on the other side, George, his Seeing Eye dog, was looking well, kinda postcard-y. But then golden retrievers were like that: picturesque, pretty, and pettable.
More Donny Osmond than dark overlord.
Then again, Wrath more than made up for that one.
Abruptly, Qhuinn dropped his mismatched eyes to the Aubusson rug. He did not need to see who was standing on the far side of the queen.
Ah, hell.
His peripheral vision was working far too well tonight.
His slut of a cousin, his cocksucking, suit-wearing, Montblanc-up-the-ass cousin Saxton the Magnificent, was standing next to the queen, looking like a combination of Cary Grant and some model in a goddamn cologne ad.
Not that Qhuinn was bitter.
Because the guy was sharing Blays bed.
Nah.
Nope. Not at all.
The cocksucker
With a wince, he thought maybe he should switch that insult to something a little farther away from what the two of them
God, he couldnt even go there. Not if he wanted to breathe.
Blay was also in the room, but the guy was staying away from his lover. He always did. Whether it was in these meetings, or outside of them, they were never closer than three feet apart.
Which was the only saving grace to living in the same house as the pair of them. Nobody ever saw them lip-locked or even holding hands.
Although it wasnt as if Qhuinn didnt lie awake during the day anyway, torturing himself with all kinds of Kama Sutra shit
The door of the study opened and Tohrment came dragging in. Man, he looked as if hed been rolled out of a moving car on the highway, his eyes like piss holes in the snow, his body moving stiffly as he went over to stand next to John and Xhex.
At the arrival, Wraths voice cut through the convo, shutting everyone up. Now that were all here, Im going to can the bullshit and turn this over to Rehvenge. I got nothing good to say about any of this, so hell be more efficient at briefing you.
As the Brothers got to muttering, the massive, Mohawked motherfucker plugged his cane into the floor and got to his feet. As usual, the half-breed was dressed in a black pin-striped suitGod, Qhuinn was starting to despise anything that had lapelsand a mink duster to keep him warm. With his symphath tendencies kept in control, thanks to regular hits of dopamine, his eyes were violet, and mostly un-evil.
Mostly. He really wasnt someone you wanted as an enemy, and not just because, like Wrath, he was the leader of his people: His day job was being king of the symphath colony up north. Nights he spent here with his shellan, Ehlena, living la vida vampire. And never the twain shall meet.
It went without saying that he was a highly valuable asset to the Brotherhood.
A number of days ago, a letter was sent out to every head of the remaining bloodlines. He reached into the mink and took out a folded sheet of what looked to be old-fashioned parchment. Snail mail. Handwritten. In the Old Language. Mine took a while to reach me because it went to the Great Camp up north first. No, I have no idea how they got the address, and yes, I have confirmed that everybody got one.
Balancing his cane against the delicate sofa hed been sitting on, he opened the parchment with his fingertips, like he didnt enjoy the feel of the thing. Then in a low, deep voice, he read each sentence in the ancient language it had been composed in.
My old, dear friend,
I am writing to advise you of my arrival in the city of Caldwell with my soldiers. Although we have long tallied in the Old Country, the dire events of the previous few years in this jurisdiction have made it impossible for us to remain, in all good conscience, where we have previously established our domicile.
As you perhaps have heard from relations overseas, our strong efforts have eradicated the Lessening Society in the motherlands, making it safe for our fair race to flourish in peace and security there. Clearly, it is time I bring this stout arm of protection to bear on this side of the oceanthe race here in these parts has sustained untenable losses, ones that mayhap could have been avoided if we had been here sooner.
I ask for nothing in return for our service to the race, although I would appreciate the opportunity to meet with you and the Councilif only to express my sincerest condolences at all you have borne since the raids. It is a shame that things have come to thisthe commentary is sad upon certain segments of our society.
With kindest regard,
Xcor
When Rehv was done, he folded the paper up and disappeared it. No one said a thing.
That was my reaction, too, he muttered dryly.
This opened the floodgates, everybody talking at once, the curses flowing rich and heavy.
Wrath made a fist and banged on his desk until the lamp jumped, and George went into hiding under his masters throne. When order was finally restored, it was like a stallion brought under control with a bit; a tenuous respite, more like a pause in the bucking and rearing than a true settle-down.
I understand the bastard was out last night, Wrath said.
Tohrment spoke up. We engaged with Xcor, yes.
So this is not a fake.
No, but it was written by someone else. Hes illiterate
Ill teach the fucker to read, V muttered. By cramming the Library of Congress up his ass.
As grunts of approval threatened to turn into more outbursts, Wrath pounded on his desk again. What do we know about his crew?
Tohr shrugged. Assuming hes kept the same ones on, theyre a total of five. Three cousins. That porn star Zypher
Rhage harrumphed at that. Clearly, even though he was now very happily mated, he felt like the race had one, and only one, sex legendand it was him.
And Throe was with him in that alley, Tohr smoothed over. Look, Im not going to lieits clear that Xcors making a play against
When he didnt finish the statement, Wrath nodded. Me.
Which would mean us
Us
Us
More voices than you could count uttered that one word, the single syllable coming from every corner of the room, every seat cushion, every flat plane of wall someone was up against. And that was the thing. Unlike Wraths father, this king had been a fighter and a Brother firstso the bonds that had been formed were not out of some artifact of prescribed duty, but the fact that Wrath had stood beside them all in the field and saved their asses personally at one time or another.
The king smiled a little. I appreciate the support.
He needs to die. When everybody looked at Rehvenge, the guy shrugged. Plain and simple. Lets not bullshit around with protocol and meetings. Lets just take him out.
Dont you think thats a little bloodthirsty, sin-eater? Wrath drawled.
From one king to another, know that Im giving you the middle finger right now. And he was, with a smile. Symphaths are known for efficiency.
Yeah, and I can feel where youre coming from. Unfortunately, the law provides that you have to make an attempt on my life before I can bury you.
Thats where this is headed.
Agreed, but our hands are tied. My ordering the assassination of what is otherwise an innocent male is not going to help us in the eyes of the glymera.
Why do you need to be associated with the death?
And if that bastards innocent, Rhage spoke up, Im the fucking Easter bunny.
Oh, good, someone quipped. Im calling you Hop-along Hollywood from now on.
Beasty Bo Peep, somebody else threw out.
We could put you in a Cadbury ad and finally make some money
People, Rhage barked, the point is that he is not innocent and Im not the Easter bunny
Wheres your basket?
Can I play with your eggs?
Hop it out, big guy
Will you guys fuck off? Seriously!
As various cottontail comments were lobbed like Jell-O at a food fight, Wrath had to pound the desk another time or two. It was obvious where the humor was coming from: The stress was so high, if they didnt blow off a little steam, shit was going to get grim fast. It didnt mean the Brotherhood wasnt focused; if anything, they all felt like Qhuinn didsocked in the gut.