Up in her bedroom at the Brotherhood mansion, Layla stood over the bassinets, her eyes going back and forth between her two sleeping young. Lyric’s and Rhamp’s faces were those of angels, all fat cheeks and rosy, smooth skin, their lashes dark and closed, their arching brows like wings. Both were breathing hard as if they were working with great industry in their repose to grow bigger, stronger, smarter.
It was procreation at work, the Scribe Virgin’s race keeping itself going. A miracle. Immortality for the mortal.
As she sensed a presence behind her, she said in a rough, low voice, “You better take out your gun.”
“Why?”
She looked over her shoulder at Vishous. The Brother was standing just inside her room, looking like a harbinger of doom. Which he was, in fact.
“If you want me to leave them, you’re going to have to put me in the Fade.”
It was no surprise that Wrath had sent Vishous to take her away. V was like dealing with an iceberg, the warrior cold, intractable, immovable from whatever goal he was set upon. Other males in the household? Particularly those with young, or Phury as the Primale, or Tohr who had lost a mate and a young of his own? Any of those Brothers might have been persuaded to change course and thus allow her to stay or permit her to take her son and daughter with her.
Not Vishous.
And in her case, perhaps not Tohr. He wanted to kill the male she had betrayed the Brotherhood with.
She eyed the handgun that was strapped under V’s arm. “Well?”
Vishous just shook his head. “That’s not going to be necessary. Come on, let’s go.”
She turned back to her young. “Did Qhuinn kill him? Xcor? Is he dead?”
“Fritz is out front. We’ve got a ways to drive. We’re leaving now.”
“Like I’m a piece of luggage to be transported.” There were no tears for her; the horror of what was happening was so great she was numb to her core. “Is Xcor dead?”
When Vishous spoke next, he was right behind her, his voice at the back of her neck, making the hair at her nape stand up in warning. “Be logical about this—”
She wheeled around and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare make it sound like I’m being unreasonable in not wanting to leave them.”
“Then don’t forget the position you’re in.” He stroked his goatee with his gloved hand. “You could end up with less than no rights to them, irrespective of their birth. But if you come with me now, I will guarantee—guarantee—that they will be back with you soon, perhaps even by nightfall tomorrow.”
Layla wrapped her arms around herself. “You don’t have that kind of power.”
His brow, the one with the tattoos beside it, arched. “Maybe not, but they do.”
As he stepped aside and motioned toward the door, she covered her mouth with her palm. One by one, the females of the house filed into the room, and even with Vishous as a comparison, they were a fierce group as they lined up in a semi-circle around her. Even Autumn was with them.
Beth, the Queen, spoke up, her voice quiet clearly so she didn’t disturb the young. “I’ll talk to Wrath. As soon as he’s back from the training center. We’re going to fix this. I don’t give a crap what happened between you and Xcor—mother to mother, I care only about you and the babies. And my husband will see my point of view. Trust me.”
Layla all but lunged into the Queen’s embrace, and as Beth held her tightly, Bella came forward and stroked Layla’s hair.
“We’re going to take care of them while you’re gone,” Z’s female said. “All of us. They won’t be alone for a second so try not to worry.”
Cormia also stepped forward, the fellow Chosen’s pale green eyes watery. “I’m going to stay in the room here all day.” She pointed to the bed. “I’m not going to leave their sides.”
Ehlena, Rehv’s shellan, nodded. “As a nurse, I’ve cared for hundreds of young in my line of work. I know babies back and forth. Nothing will happen to them, I promise.”
The others murmured agreement, and one of them handed Layla a tissue. Which was how she realized she was crying again.
Pulling back from Beth, she tried to keep her sniffles as soft as she could. She wanted to say something, wanted to express her fear and her gratitude—
The Queen put her hands on Layla’s shoulders. “Your parental rights are not going to be terminated. Not going to happen. And I know exactly where you’re going. It’s a safe house, totally protected—V wired it for security and I did the decorating myself after the Brotherhood bought it a year ago.”
“It’s secure there,” Vishous stated. “Like a bank vault. And I’m spending the day with you as your goddamn roommate.”
“So I’m under guard?” Layla frowned. “Am I prisoner?”
The Brother just shrugged. “You’re protected. That’s all.”
The hell that was all, she thought. But there was nothing she could do. This was larger than her, and she knew all too well the reasons for that.
Going back to Lyric and Rhamp, she found that the tears poured down her face faster than she could clear them with the soggy mess the tissue had turned into. Indeed, something about the females of the house showing up and having her back had defrosted the numb lock in the center of her chest, and now her emotions were raw once again.
She wanted to pick up each of her young and smell their sweet skin, hold them to her heart, cradle their heads as she kissed them. But if she did any of that, she wouldn’t be able to leave them.
Her hand shook as she had to settle for tugging up their plush blankets closer to their chins.
“My young,” she whispered. “Mahmen will be back. I’m not … leaving you …”
There was no going any further with her goodbye. She choked up so badly speech was impossible.
Her journey to have these two precious blessings had started what felt like a lifetime ago, back when she had sensed her needing was upon her, and had begged Qhuinn to service her. And then had come those endless months of the pregnancy, and the emergency births.
There had been so many impossibles along the way, so many challenges she couldn’t have foreseen. But this was one that she had never contemplated: Leaving the young in the care of others, no matter how competent and loving those “others” were, was nothing she could have anticipated.
It was just too horrific.
“Let’s go,” Vishous said with finality. “Before the dawn comes and things get even more complicated.”
With a final look at each of her young, Layla gathered the folds of her robe and walked out of the bedroom. In her wake, she felt as though she had left her heart and soul behind.
THIRTEEN
As night fell the following evening, Qhuinn was unaware of the sun’s crash and burn on the western horizon. For one, he was deep underground in the training center’s clinic—so that giant flaming orb’s change of shift in favor of the moon was nothing he could look out a window and see. For another, he was on the kind of drugs that made you forget your own name, much less what time it was. But the main reason he missed the demise of the day?
Even with all the bad stuff going on in his life, he was having the best fucking hallucination. Like, ever.
The conscious part of his brain—which had taken a backseat so far from his steering wheel that the shit might as well have been strapped on his trunk—was well aware that what he thought he was seeing across the hospital room was absolutely, positively not actually happening. But here was the thing. He was so high that, like the pain from the operation they’d done on him six hours ago, the events of the previous evening were temporarily amnesia’d—and that meant he was spectacularly horny.
This was not a surprise. The fact that he was a pig asshole with a tremendous sex drive had been proven over time.
And hey, considering how he’d behaved the night before, he had so many other things to be disappointed in himself with.
So, yeah, as he lay here in this hospital bed, with tubes and wires going in and out of him like he was Xcor’s fucking stunt double, he was seeing Blay sitting in that chair over there in the corner, the one that was the color of Cream of Wheat and had rounded arms and a low back.