East and west. Left and right. Night and day.
Of course feeding from Mr. D had only nominally helped him.
He needed a female. A female lesser.
Why hadnt it dawned on him sooner? Male vampires were strengthened only by the blood of the opposite sex. And although his fathers side was very much dominant in him, clearly there was enough of the fang left over in there that he needed to feed.
Only after hed taken Mr. Ds vein had he felt even partially satisfied.
Well, didnt this change everything. . and give Xhex a whole new future.
SEVENTEEN
The sounds of the bloody melee down below had carried up to Xhexs ears, and given the stench that now wafted through the bedrooms doorway, she could only guess what had been done to that little lesser whod brought her food.
Apparently some portion of the first floor had just been redecorated in slayer paisley.
She was surprised that the Brothers had chosen to rip the bastard limb from limb in the house. From what she knew, Butch ONeal usually inhaled the slayers to keep them from going back to the Omega. But downstairs? Shed be surprised if there was anything left you could pick up without a mop.
Unless it was a message to Lash.
Following the slaughters loud chaos, there was an odd stretch of quiet and then lots of footfalls. They were leaving now that there was nothing left to kill.
Panic rose again in her chest and the effort of pulling herself back together was nearly physical. . but goddamn it, she was not going to come undone. All she had in this situation was herself. She was her weapon; her mind and her body were the only things that Lash couldnt take away from her.
She lost them, she was as good as dead.
Fuck that, she lost them and she couldnt take Lash with her when she went.
The reality of the situation was where she found the strength to keep going, the weight on her grounding her emotions when they otherwise would have flown the coop and taken her logic with them. She locked away everything, shutting down anything shed felt when shed been beside John Matthew.
Nothing got through. Nothing bubbled up.
Snapping into war mode, she realized she hadnt heard a pop or seen the echo of a flash, so they hadnt stabbed the slayer. And the smell was so vivid, she was betting they were leaving the body behind.
Lash was going to fucking lose it. Shed heard him interacting with the little Texan and although hed have denied it, he was attached to the bastard. What she needed to do was exploit this weakness in him. Tee him up even further when he got scrambled. Maybe hed crack in some fundamental way. .
Amid the silence and the sweet stench, she paced around and ended up at the window. Without thinking of the force field, she put both her hands up and leaned in against the jambs
Xhex leaped back, expecting a wave of pain.
Instead. . she just got a tingle.
There was something different about her prison.
Keeping a lid on her head, she came back at the barrier with her palms, pressing them against her containment. Complete and utter objectivity was what she needed to assess thingsbut it turned out, the change was so obvious that even distracted she would have registered it: There was weakness within the tensile weave of the spell. Unmistakable weakness.
The question was why. And whether it was going to get even looser or this blip was something she needed to take advantage of right now.
Her eyes rimmed the window. Visually, there was nothing out of the norm with her prison and she put her hand up to the glass, just to be sureyup, shed been right.
Had Lash died? Been wounded?
At that moment, a big black Mercedes eased by the front of the house, and she sensed the sonofabitch inside. And whether it was because hed been taking her vein or because the barrier was weakening, his emotional grid was crystal clear to her symphath side: He was feeling isolated. Anxious. And. . weak.
Well, well, well. .
Didnt that give credibility to the loosening shed sensed. And an idea why he wasnt all Johnny-on-the-spot to come get her. If she were Lash, and she were not feeling particularly strong, she would wait for the dawn to come before going inside.
Either that or she would head off and get some serious-ass reinforcements.
But then, thats what they made cell phones for, right?
When the Mercedes left the neighborhood and didnt show signs of returning, she took two steps back from the window. Tensing her thighs, she sank down into a fighters stance, curling up her fists and angling her body slightly back on her hips. She breathed deep and focused and. .
Snapping out her right fist with all the strength in her shoulder, she punched the barrier hard enough so that if it had been the jaw of a male, shed have cracked the fucker into pieces.
The spell stung her back, but all around the room, ripples appeared, her prison cell shimmering as if recalibrating itself after an injury. Before there could be a complete regathering, she pitched another punch
The glass on the far side of the barrier shattered on impact.
At first, she was struck stupid. . even as she felt the breeze on her face, and looked down at her now-bleeding knuckles for confirmation there was no other reason why the window had broken.
Holy. . shit.
Quickly considering her potential exit strategies, she looked over her shoulder at the door John and the Brothers had left open.
The last thing she wanted to do was go out through the house, because she didnt know the layout and had no clue what she was going to run into along the way. But instinct told her she was probably too weak to dematerializeso if she tried to bust out through the window, she didnt know if shed be able to pull off a midair disappearance.
In which case shed yard-sale in the road down below.
The open doorway was her best shot. She could use her own body as a fist, and with a running start, shed have even more power behind her.
Turning around, she put her shoulder blades against the wall, sucked in a deep breath. . and sprinted across the room, the balls of her feet driving her weight over the floor, her arms pumping.
She hit the barrier and the pain was incandescent, firing through every single cell in her body, lighting her up from the inside out. The agony blinded her at the same moment that the spell held her in place, trapping her inside its confines and rendering her as good as dead
Except then there was a tearing as her momentum won out over her prisons invisible bars. . and goddamn it if she didnt end up on the far side of that bedroom.
As her body broke free, she slammed into the corridors wall, to the point where she expected to take a layer of paint off with her face and chest as she slid down onto the floor.
With her head spinning and her eyes filled with flashing lights, she kicked her own ass into gear. She was out, but was not free.
Glancing back, she watched the rippling of the spell as it recast itself. . and wondered if her breaching it didnt send some kind of signal out to Lash.
Go. . now. . get out. . run!
Dragging herself off the floor and down the hall, she hit the stairs on unreliable legs, careening around, stumbling. In the foyer below, the stink of lesser blood choked her to the point of gagging, and she moved away from it, although not because of her nose. All of the egress and ingress at the house happened in the back. If she had nothing but a sliver of time on her side, she needed to focus on finding another way out.
Up ahead, the front door was a massive, ornately carved thing, with glass into which iron bars were set. But all they had for locks were simple dead bolts.
Candy-from-a-baby time.
She walked up, put her hand on the Schlage mechanism, and focused what she had left of her energy on shifting the pins. One. . two. . three. . and the fourth.
Throwing the door wide, she had one foot outstide when she heard the creak of someone coming into the kitchen.
Oh shit, Lash was back. Hed come back for her.
In a flash she was gone, panic giving her wings that her focused mind put to good use. Given the shape she was in, she knew she wasnt going to make it far and decided the best she could do was her basement place. At least there, she could be safe while she regrouped.
Xhex took form in the sheltered alcove that led down into her studio and sprang the copper locks with her mind. As she went through the door, the motion-sensing lights came on in the whitewashed corridor, and she lifted her arm to shield her eyes as she stumbled down the steps. Locking the door with her thoughts, she tripped forward, becoming dimly aware she had a limp.
The impact of the wall? The scramble down the stairs? Who the fuck knew or cared.
She made it into her bedroom and shut herself in. As the automatic lights came on, she looked at the bed. Clean white sheets. Pillows all arranged. Duvet spread flat.
She didnt make it to the mattress. As her knees gave out, she let herself go, her skeleton collapsing in on itself until she was nothing but a pile of sticks covered by skin.
It was not sleep that claimed her as she hit the floor. But that was okay.
Unconsciousness worked better anyway.
Blaylock reentered the brownstone with Rhage and Vishous a mere twenty minutes after theyd left with John. As soon as theyd gotten him back to the compound safely, theyd returned to finish the sweep of the premises: this time, they were looking for the small stuff like ID, computers, cash, drugs, anything that gave them intel.
Having watched the carnage John Matthew had thrown around, the aftermath barely registered as Blay walked in the kitchen, and immediately started pulling open cupboards and drawers. Vishous headed up to the second floor while Rhage rooted around the front of the house.
He was just finding his groove when Rhage called out, The front doors wide open.
So someone had been back here since theyd pulled out with John. Lesser? Not likely as they would never have left things unsecured. Maybe a human thief? The Brothers hadnt locked up the back when theyd taken off so perhaps someone had waltzed right in.
If it had been a human, what a sight theyd gotten. Might have explained a rushed exit out the other way.
Blay popped his heat just in case there was someone in the house, and with his free hand, he was quick as he rifled around. He found two cell phones in a drawer with the knives, neither of which had chargersbut V would solve that. There were also some business cards by the phone, but they were all for humans in the contracting tradewho had probably been used to work on the brownstone.
He was tackling the cupboards under the counter when he frowned and looked up. Right in front of him was a bowl of fresh apples.
Glancing down in the direction of the stove, he saw some tomatoes. And a loaf of French bread in a paper wrapper.
Straightening, he walked over to the Sub- Zero and cracked the thing open. Organic milk. Takeout from Whole Foods. A fresh turkey ready to be cooked. Smoked Canadian bacon.
Not exactly prisoner food.
Blay looked up at the ceiling, where heavy footsteps sounded out as V went from room to room. Then his eyes traced the kitchen as a whole, from the cashmere dress coat draped over a stool to the copper pans stacked in the open shelving to the coffeepot that had a brew in its belly.
Everything was name-brand and new and neater than a picture out of a catalog.
This was up to Lashs standards for real. . but lessers werent supposed to be able to eat. So unless he was treating Xhex like a queen, which was highly unlikely. . someone was chowing down on a regular basis in this house.
The butlers pantry was right off the kitchen and Blay stepped through the wet remains of the slayer to give the shelved room a quick once-over: enough canned foods to keep a household going for a year.
He was on his way out when his eyes caught something on the floor: There was a subtle series of scratches across the otherwise mirror-perfect surface of the hardwood. . and they were arranged in a half-moon shape.
Blays knees cracked as he got down on his haunches and shoved aside a canister vacuum cleaner. The beadboard wall looked flush and uninterrupted by any seams that shouldnt have been there, but a quick rapping trip around with his knuckles and he found a hollow space. Taking out his knife, he used the hilt as a sonar device to determine the precise dimensions of the hidden tuck hole; then he flipped the weapon around and penetrated the tongue-and-groove pattern with the tip of the blade.
Forcing open the cover, he took a penlight and flashed it inside.
Trash bag. The Hefty kind that was the color of lesser blood.
Dragging it out, he pulled open the drawstring. Holy. . shit.
Rhage appeared behind him. What you got?
He shoved his hand in and pulled out a palmful of wrinkled bills. Cash. Lotta cash.
Grab it. V found a laptop and a broken window upstairs that was not there before. I closed the front door just so no humans get nosy. He checked his watch. We need to blow before the sun gets rolling.
Roger that.
Blay grabbed the sack and left the space all open and violated, figuring the more evidence of a break-in, the merrier. Although it wasnt like the bits and pieces of lesser could be ignored.
If only he could see Lashs face when the motherfucker came home.
The bunch of them headed out the back into the garden, and he and Rhage dematerialized while Vishous hot-wired the Lexus in the garage so they could confiscate it.
It went without saying that theyd rather stay and wait to see what showed up. But there was no negotiating with the dawn.
Back at the Brotherhood mansion, Blay walked into the foyer with Hollywood and there was a receiving line of people waiting for them. All of the booty got handed over to Butch for processing at the Pit, and as soon as Blay could break away, he went upstairs to Johns bedroom.
His knock was answered by a grunt, and as he opened up and walked in, he saw Qhuinn seated in a wing chair by the bed. The lamp on the table next to him cast a yellow pool within the darkness, illuminating both him and the recumbent mountain underneath the duvet.
John was out cold.
Qhuinn, on the other hand, was laying into the Herradura, the bottle of Seleccion Suprema at his elbow, his crystal glass full of the outstanding tequila that had recently become his drink of choice.
Christ, with him sucking back that and John into Jack, Blay was thinking he needed to upgrade his own tipple. Beer abruptly seemed sophomoric.
Hows he doing? Blay asked softly.
Qhuinn took a sip and swallowed. Pretty rough. I called Layla. He needs to feed.
Blay approached the bed. Johns eyes were not so much closed as on lockdown, his brows drawn so tightly it looked like he was trying to solve a law of physics in his sleep. His face was preternaturally pale, his hair appearing darker in contrast, and his breathing was too shallow. His clothes had been removed and most of the lesser blood had been washed off him.
Tequila? Qhuinn asked.
Blay held his hand out to the guy without looking, still focused on their buddy. What hit his palm was the glass instead of the bottle, but he didnt care and he drank hard.
Well, at least he knew why Qhuinn liked the stuff.
As he gave the glass back, he crossed his arms over his chest and listened to the quiet, glugging refill. For some reason, the loose, charming sound of that expensive booze hitting cut crystal eased him.
I cant believe he cried, Blay murmured. I mean. . I can, but it was a surprise.
Shed obviously been held in that room. The Herradura was put back on the side table with a subtle thump. And wed just missed her.
Did he talk at all?
Nope. Not even when I shoved him in the shower and got in with him.
Okay, that was a visual Blay could do without. Good thing John didnt flip that way
There was a soft knock at the door and then a waft of cinnamon and spice. Blay walked over and let Layla in, bowing to her in deference.
How may I be of. . The Chosen frowned and glanced toward the bed. Oh, no. . he is injured?
As she went over to John Matthew, Blay thought, Yeah, but mostly on the inside.
Thanks for coming, Qhuinn said as he got up out of his chair. Leaning down over John, he gently pushed on the guys shoulder. Hey, my man, can you wake up for a sec.
John roused like he was fighting against a tidal wave, his head lifting slowly, his eyelids flipping up and down like there was a rush of water on his puss.
Time to feed. Without glancing over his shoulder, Qhuinn motioned for Layla by holding out his hand. We need you to focus for just a little longer and then well leave you alone.
The Chosen paused. . then stepped forward. She took the outstretched palm slowly, sliding her skin against Qhuinns and stepping in with a kind of shy beauty that made Blay feel sorry for her.
Going by the blush that suddenly flared in her cheeks, he had a feeling she, like everyone else, it seemed, had a spark for Qhuinn.
John. . my man? Come on, I need you to pay attention here. Qhuinn tugged at Layla so that the Chosen took a seat on the bed, and the instant she got a good look at John, she was all about him.
Sire. . Her voice was quiet and impossibly kind as she pulled up the sleeve of her robe. Sire, rouse thyself and take what I may give you. Verily, you are in need.
John started to shake his head, but Qhuinn was on it. You want to go after Lash? Aint going to be in this shape. You cant lift your fucking headscuse the language, Chosen. You need some strength. . Come on, dont be an asshole, John.
Qhuinns mismatched eyes shot to Layla as he mouthed, Sorry. And she must have smiled at him because for a moment, he tilted his head as if he were struck by her.
Or maybe shed just mouthed something back.
Had to be it.
Really.
And then both their heads snapped downward and Layla let out a gasp as Johns fangs struck deep and he started to take what she offered. Evidently satisfied, Qhuinn returned to where hed been sitting and refilled his glass. After hed drunk half, he held it out toward Blay.
Best idea anyone had had in ages. Blay positioned himself against the high back of the wing chair, running one arm along the top of the thing as he took a deep sip, and then another, before passing the tequila back.
They stayed like that, sharing the drink while John fed from Layla. . and sometime into the process of both nourishments, Blay became aware that he was putting his lips on the very rim Qhuinn was taking from.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the glass. Maybe it was the fact that from where he stood, with every breath Blay took he smelled Qhuinns dark scent. .
He knew he had to leave.
He wanted to support John, but with each passing minute, he was leaning closer and closer and. . closer to Qhuinn. To the point that as his hand hung over the chair, he was nearly stroking that thick black hair.
I have to go, he said roughly, returning the glass one last time and heading for the door.
You okay? Qhuinn called out.
Yup. Sleep well and take care, Layla.
Dont you need to feed? Qhuinn demanded.
Tomorrow.
The Chosen said something lovely and pleasant, but there was no turning around. Nope. Couldnt turn around.
And please God, let him not run into anyone out in the hall.
He hadnt checked to see how bad it was, but he knew when he was aroused. . and that was one thing that, no matter how polite a male was, he couldnt hide in tight leather.
EIGHTEEN
Over on the Far Side, Payne paced around in her mothers fountain, her feet making circles in the pool that caught the falling water. As she splashed, she held her robing aloft and she listened to the colorful birds that sat in the white tree over in the corner. The little ones chirped and carried on, flitting from branch to branch, pecking at each other, fussing with their feathers.
How in the hell they found such limited activity worth waking up for she hadnt a clue.
In the sanctuary there was no conception of time, and yet she wished she had a pocket watch or a chiming clock to figure out how late the Blind King was. They had a standing sparring session every afternoon.
Well, afternoon for him. For her, stuck here on this side, everything was perpetually daytime.
She wondered exactly how long it had been since her mother had sprung her from that deep freeze and allowed her some freedom. No way to know. Wrath had started to show up regularly about. . fifteen times ago and shed been reanimated maybe. . well, long before that. So maybe over six months?
The real question was how long shed been kept under frosted lock and keybut it wasnt like she was going to ask her mother about that. They werent talking at all. Until that divine female whod birthed her was prepared to let her out of here, Payne didnt have anything to say.
For truth, the silent treatment didnt seem to be making a difference at all, but she hadnt expected it to. When your mother- mare was the creator of the race and answerable to no one, even the king. .
It was rather easy to become trapped in your own life.
As her pace through the fountain intensified and her robing started to get soaked, she leaped out of the pool and jogged around, her fists up in front of her, the punches she threw out pumping the air.
Being the good, dutiful Chosen was not in her hardwiring, and that was the root of all of the problems between her and her mother. Oh, the waste. Oh, the disappointment.
Oh, do get over it, mother dear.
Those standards of behavior and belief were for someone else. And if the Scribe Virgin had been looking for another robed ghost to drift around like a silent draft through a temperate room, she should have picked another sire for her young.
The Bloodletters vital makeup was in Payne, the traits of the father carrying through to the next generation
Payne wheeled around and met Wraths falling fist with a forearm block and a scissor kick to his liver. The king was quick to retaliate and the hammering elbow that returned at her was a concussion waiting to happen.
Fast duck had her barely out of the way. Another kick from her sent the king jumping backthough he was blind, he had an unerring ability to know precisely where she was in space.
Which meant he would guess she would come at his flank. Indeed, he was already spinning his weight around, ready to punch her with the sole of his boot around the back.
Payne changed her mind, hit the ground, and swept both of her legs out, catching him at the ankle and throwing him off balance. A quick jog to her right and she was out of the way of his huge, lurching body; another leap and she was latched onto his back as he landed hard, his neck caught in a choke hold within the crook of her elbow. To gain extra leverage, she grabbed onto her own wrist and used her other biceps as she pulled against his throat.
The kings way of dealing with it? He turtled on her.
His incredible brute strength gave him the power to get his feet under both their weight and rise up. Then it was a jump in the air that had them landing with her underneath, flattened on the marble.
Hell of a bedding platformshe could practically feel her bones bending.
The king was first and foremost a male of worth, however, and in deference to her inferior muscularity, he never kept her down for long. Which irked her. Shed have preferred a no-holds-barred contest of skill, but there were differences in the sexes that were not negotiable and males were simply bigger and therefore stronger.
As much as she resented the fact of biology, there was nothing to be done about it.
And anytime her superior speed got him a good one, it was extra sweet.
The king was nimble as he popped back to his feet and swung around, his long black hair fanning out in a circle before resettling on his white judogi. With the set of dark lenses over his eyes, and that tremendous spread of muscles, he was magnificent, the very best of the vampire bloodlines undiluted with anything human or otherwise.
Although that was part of his problem. She had heard that that blindness of his was the result of all that pure blood.
As Payne went to get up, her back let out a spasm, but she ignored the sharp shooting strike and faced off with her opponent once again. This time, she was the one who came out swinging and chopping, and for a blind male, Wraths ability to parry her was downright amazing.
Maybe that was why he never complained about his impairment. Then again, they didnt talk much, which was fine with her.
Although she did wonder what his life was like on the Other Side.
How she envied him his freedom.
They continued to go at it, working their way around the fountain, then over to the columns and toward the door that led out into the sanctuary. And back again. And around again.
They were both bruised and bleeding by the finish of the session, but it was no bother. As soon as their hands dropped to their sides and no more hits were exchanged, the injuries would begin to heal up.
The last punch that was thrown was hers and it was a stunner of an uppercut, catching the kings chin like a ball and chain, throwing his head back, that hair once again flying.
They always seemed to agree without speaking when it was time to end.
They cooled down by walking side by side to the fountain, stretching out their muscles, cracking their necks back into place. Together, they washed their faces and fists in the clear, clean water and they dried themselves on soft cloths that Payne had asked to have at the ready.
In spite of the fact that they traded punches and not words, she had come to think of the king as a friend. And to trust him as one.
First time shed ever had that.
And it was truly just friends. As much as she could admire from afar his considerable physical attributes, there was no spark of attraction between themand that was part of the reason this worked. She wouldnt have been comfortable any other way.
No, she wasnt interested in something sexual from him or anyone else. Male vampires had a tendency to take over, especially highbred ones. They couldnt help itit was, once again, a case of what was in the blood determining behavior. Shed had quite enough of someone with an opinion about her life. The last thing she needed was another one of those.
You okay? Wrath asked as they sat on the lip of the fountain.
Yes. You? She didnt mind that he always asked if she was all right. The first couple of times it had offended heras if she couldnt handle the post-sparring aches? But then she realized it had nothing to do with her sexhe would have asked it of anyone he so exerted himself with.
I feel great, he said, his smile revealing tremendous fangs. That arm bar at the beginning was boss, by the way.
Payne grinned so broadly her cheeks hurt. Which was another reason she liked to be with him. As he couldnt see, there was no reason to hide her emotionsand nothing got her beaming more than him telling her shed impressed him.
Well, Your Highness, your turtles always kill me.
Now he was smiling even wider and she was momentarily touched to think her praise meant something to him. Deadweight has its uses, he murmured.
Abruptly, he turned to her, the dark spectacles he always wore making her think, once again, that he looked cruel. And yet hed proved that wasnt the case over and over again.
He cleared his throat. Thanks for this. Things are bad back home.
How so?
Now he looked away, as if he were staring at the horizon. Which was likely a holdover from when he hid his emotions from people. Weve lost a female. The enemy has her. He shook his head. And one of ours is suffering for it.
Were they mated?
No. . but hes behaving as though they were. The king shrugged. I missed the connection between them. We all did. But. . its there and it came out tonight in a big way.
A hunger for the down-below, for the earthbound lives that were traumatic but vivid, had her leaning in. What happened?