“I can’t let you do shit like this anymore. You realize that, don’t you.” Tohr stared down at the king’s forearms, tracing those ritualistic tattoos that spelled out his lineage. “You need to be alive at the end of every night, my lord. The rules are different for you.”
“Look, I’ve been shot at before—”
“And it’s not happening again. Not on my watch.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? You going to chain me in the basement?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
Wrath’s brows dropped low, and his voice grew stronger. “You can be a real prick, you know that.”
“It’s not a matter of personality. And it’s obvious or you wouldn’t be getting your panties in a wad.”
“I’m not wearing any.” The king cracked another smile. “I’m naked under here.”
“Thanks for that picture.”
“You know, technically you can’t order me to do shit.”
Wrath was right; you didn’t tell the leader of the race a good goddamn thing. But as Tohr met the male’s blind eyes, he wasn’t talking to the ruler of them all; he was talking to his brother.
“Until Xcor is neutralized, we’re not taking any risks with you—”
“If there’s a Council meeting, I’m going. Period.”
“There won’t be. Not unless we want there to be—and right now? Nobody needs you anywhere but here.”
“Fucking hell! I’m the king—” As Beth frowned in her sleep, he calmed his voice out. “Can we talk about this later?”
“No reason to. We’re done on the subject—and every one of the brothers is behind me on this.”
Tohr did not look away as he got hit with a glare that, in spite of those eyes being blind, was strong enough to burn a hole in the back of his skull.
“Wrath,” he said roughly, “look at what’s next to you. Do you want to leave her on her own? You want her to have to mourn you? Fuck all of us—what about your Beth?”
It was a low-down dirty to play the shellan card, but any weapon in a fight.…
Wrath cursed and closed his eyes.
And Tohr knew he’d won when the male turned his face into Beth’s hair and breathed in deeply, as if he were smelling her shampoo.
“Are we in accord,” Tohr demanded.
“Fuck you,” the king murmured against his beloved.
“Good, I’m glad that’s settled.”
After a moment, Wrath looked over again. “Did they get the bullet out of my neck?”
“They did. All we need is the rifle that goes with it.” Tohr gave George’s boxy head a stroking. “And it’s got to be the Band of Bastards’—Xcor’s the only one who would try something like that.”
“We need to find where they live.”
“They’re cagey. Smart. It’s going to take a miracle.”
“Then start praying, my brother. Start praying.”
Tohr replayed the attack in his mind yet again. The brazenness was off the chain—and suggested Xcor was capable of just about anything.
“I’m going to kill him,” he said in a low voice.
“Xcor?” When he nodded, Wrath said, “I think you’re going to have to get in line for the job—assuming we can tie him to the shooter. The good news is that as head of the B.o.B., he can be held accountable for his fighters’ actions—so as long as one of his soldiers was at the trigger of that rifle, we can nail him.”
As Tohr thought shit over, that grinding in his gut tightened to an unbearable level. “You said you owed me a favor—well, this is what I want. I want Xcor’s death to be at my hands and no one else’s.”
“Tohr…” When he just stared straight ahead, Wrath shrugged. “I can’t give him to you until we have proof.”
“But you can stipulate that if he is responsible, he’s mine.”
“Fine. He’s all yours—if we have proof.”
Tohr thought about the expressions on the faces of the brothers out in the hall. “You need to make it official.”
“Oh, come on, if I say—”
“You know what they’re like. Any one of them crosses paths with that shithead and they’ll peel him like a grape. Right now that male’s got more targets on the back of his ass than a shooting range. Besides, a proclamation won’t take long.”
Wrath’s lids closed briefly. “Okay, okay… stop arguing the point and go get a witness.”
Tohr went over and stuck his head out of the room—and as luck would have it, the first person he saw… was John Matthew.
The kid was parked by the recovery room across the way, butt on the floor next to a worried Blaylock, hands on his head like there was a fire alarm going off in his skull.
Except he snapped right to and signed, Is Wrath still all right?
“Yeah.” Tohr glanced down the corridor as Blay murmured a prayer of thanks. “He’s going to be fine.”
You looking for someone?
“I need a witness—”
I’ll do it.
Tohr shot up his brows. “Okay. Thanks.”
As John Matthew got to his feet, a loud crack sounded out, like his back was playing DIY chiropractor. And when he limped over, Tohr realized the kid had been injured.
“You have Doc Jane take a look at that?”
John bent down and lifted the pant leg of the scrubs he had on. His calf was wrapped in white gauze.
“Bullet or blade?” Tohr asked.
Bullet. And yes, they kept it as well.
“Good. How’d you fare, Blay?”
“Just a surface wound on my arm.”
That it? Tohr thought. Because the fucker looked a little hollow—then again, it had been a long night and day for everyone.
“I’m glad, son. We’ll be right back.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
As John came over to the wide-open door, Tohr stepped aside, and then followed him in.
“How you doing, son?” Wrath asked as the kid approached him and bent down to kiss his ring.
As John signed, Tohr translated, “He says just fine. He says… if it would not offend, he has something he and Blay need you to know?”
“Yeah, sure. G’head.”
“He says… he was with… Qhuinn at the house… after you were shot, before the Brotherhood arrived.… Qhuinn went out alone.… ah, Blay spoke with the guy a little while ago. Blay said that… Qhuinn told him he’d engaged with… Xcor… so that—wait, John, slow down. Thanks… Okay, engaged with Xcor… so that you could get free in the van—”
Beth stirred, her eyes opening, her brows tightening as if she were catching the drift of the conversation.
“Are you serious?” the king blurted.
“He took on… Xcor… one-on-one—” Holy shit, Tohr thought. He’d heard the kid had gone out there, but that was it.
Wrath whistled under his breath. “That’s a male of worth, right there.”
“Wait, John, let me catch up. One-on-one… so that Xcor, who was waiting to attack the van, was neutralized.… He—John, that is—wants to know if there is some kind of official recognition that… you can give Qhuinn? Something to recognize… his above-and-beyond… service? And P.S.,” Tohr spoke for himself, “me, personally? I’m so on board with that.”
Wrath stayed quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, let me get this straight. Qhuinn went out after the brothers arrived, right?”
Tohr got back with the translating. “John says no. It was on his own, unguarded, unprotected before they came. Qhuinn said… he had to do what he could to make sure you were okay.”
“That dumb-ass idiot.”
“Hero is more like it,” Beth said abruptly.
“Leelan, you wake.” Wrath became instantly focused on his mate. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Believe me, just hearing your voice is heaven… you can wake me up with it anytime.” She kissed his mouth softly. “Welcome back.”
Both Tohr and John got busy looking at the floor as tender words were exchanged.
Then the king came back online. “Qhuinn shouldn’t have done that.”
“I agree,” Tohr muttered.
The king focused on John. “Yeah, all right. We’ll do something for him. I don’t know what… but that kind of shit is epic. Stupid, but epic.”