Dropping his head, he closed his eyes and recalibrated his thoughts, reining them in, steering them away from the fantasy. Indeed, he would not even use her as a way to find the Brothers: that would be signing her death warrant sure as if he could actually write his own name.
No, he would not use her as a tool in this war. He had already compromised her too much.
Pivoting in the snow, he faced the direction of the one who was behind him. That the soldiers had left with the Chosen instead of fighting with him was logical. A female such as she was a highly valuable commodity, and they’d likely called in many reinforcements for the trip to wherever they were going.
Interesting that the one they had picked to stay behind was of the fairer sex. They must have assumed he’d give chase.
“I sense you clear as day, female,” he called out.
To her credit, she stepped into the light of a doorway down the alley. With short hair and a tight, powerful build that was encased in leather, she was definitely a female fighter.
Well, wasn’t this a night for surprises: If she was associated with the Brotherhood, he had to assume she was dangerous so this could be fun.
And yet, as she confronted him, she took out no weapons. She was prepared, though—indeed, her stance told him she was ready to do what she must. But she was not on the offensive.
Xcor narrowed his eyes. “Too ladylike to fight?”
“You are not mine to take.”
“So whose am I.” When she didn’t reply, he knew there was a game afoot. The question was, what kind. “Nothing to say, female?”
He took a step toward her. And another. Just to test where the boundaries were. Sure enough, she didn’t retreat, but instead slowly unzipped the front of her jacket as if she were ready to get at her guns.
Standing in that pool of light, with the snow falling around her and her boots planted on the white, fluffy ground, her black figure cut quite a picture. He wasn’t attracted to her, however—mayhap it would be easier if he was. Someone with her intrinsic harshness might fare better in the face of his… face, as it were.
“You appear rather aggressive, female.”
“If you force me to kill you, I will.”
“Ah. Well, I shall keep that mind. Tell me, do you tarry here for the pleasure of my company?”
“I doubt there’d be much pleasure in it.”
“Right you are. I am not known for my social graces.”
She was tracking him, he thought. That was the reason she was here. In fact, he had had the sense since the earlier part of the night that there had been a shadow on him.
“I’m afraid I shall have to be going,” he drawled. “I have a feeling our paths shall cross again, however.”
“You can bet your life on it.”
He inclined his head toward her… and promptly disappeared himself far away. Whatever her tracking skills were, she couldn’t follow molecules. No one was that good.
Not even his Chosen could do that—and thank the Fates for it. For truth, the thought had long lingered in his mind that she might find him if she wished, her blood in him a beacon she could follow for quite some time.
But she hadn’t done so, and she wouldn’t. She was not of the war—
His phone went off just as he came back into his physical form on the shores of the Hudson far from downtown. Taking the black device out, he looked at the screen. The picture of an old-fashioned dandy was showing beside writing and numerals he could not decipher—which indicated his contact within the glymera was reaching out to him.
He hit the button with green lettering on it. “How lovely to hear from you, Elan,” he murmured. “How ever are you doing this fine eve. They are? Indeed. Yes. I shall get back to you on a location—but tell them aye. We shall meet with them posthaste.”
Perfect, he thought as he hit the red button. The splintering faction of the glymera wanted to meet in person. Things were finally starting to move.
About time.
Staring out over the river, he let his aggression flow, but the surge didn’t last. Inevitably, his thoughts returned to his Chosen and that horrid expression on her face.
She knew who he was now.
And as all females did, she viewed him as a monster.
Riding in the back of iAm’s SUV, Qhuinn kept a lookout on all sides of the vehicle in case they were being trailed. He’d also called in V and Rhage to flank the BMW on a just-in-case.
Not that he’d told them it was the Bastards he was worried about. They had assumed it was lessers, and he’d let them go with that one.
And John wasn’t driving back to the compound—no reason to get anywhere near home base. Instead, they were going to head out into the ’burbs and go in circles, staying in the human-heavy neighborhoods until Layla had time enough to recover and dematerialize back to the mansion.
On that note, he glanced over at her. She was staring out the window beside her, her chest rising and falling way too fast.
But, yeah, finding out you’d helped the enemy—probably saved his life—was not the kind of thing anyone would handle well.
He leaned over and put his hand on her leg, giving it a squeeze. “It’s okay, baby girl.”
She didn’t turn her head to him. Just shook it. “How can you say that.”
“You didn’t know.”
“He stayed back in town. He didn’t follow us.”
Good to know. “You’ll let me know if that changes.”
“Absolutely.” Her voice was dead. “In a moment.”
Qhuinn cursed under his breath. “Layla. Look at me.” When she didn’t, he put his forefinger on her chin. “Hey, you didn’t know who he was.”
Layla closed her eyes, as if she wished she could return to whatever night she had met the guy and do everything over.
“Come here,” he said, pulling her into an embrace.
She came stiffly to him, and as he rubbed her back, the tension in her muscles was legion.
“What if the king turns me out?” she said into his pectoral. “What if Phury—”
“They won’t. They’ll understand.”
As she shuddered against him, he glanced up at John in the rearview mirror and shook his head at his best friend. Mouthing the words, he said silently, Let’s just drive her in. Xcor stayed back in town.
John cocked a brow, and then nodded.
After all, blood sense didn’t lie—although unfortunately, it was a sword that cut both ways. The good news was that the mhis V threw up around the compound would keep anyone on the outside from finding her—which was the reason Throe had been fed in the first place. And at least that connection with Layla was fading with every passing night, even with the Chosen’s blood being so pure.
“I’ve got nothing of my own,” Layla said roughly. “Nothing. Even my service can be taken away from me.”
“Shhh… ain’t going to happen. I won’t let it.”
Man, he prayed that wasn’t a lie. And they damn well had to tell the king and the Primale right away: Their first stop, after they took her to Doc Jane’s, was going to be Wrath’s study. Those two just had to understand where she’d been coming from—she’d been manipulated by the enemy, exploited like any other resource into doing something she never would have volunteered for in a million years.
He wished he’d killed Xcor when he’d had the chance…
A good thirty minutes later, John turned off onto the rear road to the training center, and it was another ten before they finally pulled into the parking garage.
The first clue something was off came when Qhuinn stepped out onto the curb: His skin tightened up in a rush, his blood heating to a boil in his veins for no good reason. And then he popped a giant, throbbing erection.
Frowning, he glanced around. And John did the same as the guy cracked his door and got out from behind the steering wheel.
There was… some kind of mojo working in the parking lot. What the fuck?