“When are they coming back?”
“I don’t know—and that’s what makes me nervous.”
Trez stiffened. The idea that his cool-as-a-cucumber brother was anxious made him feel like he had a knife to his throat.
Then again, he was well aware of exactly how dangerous his people could be. The s’Hisbe was largely a peaceable nation, content to stay out of the battles with the Lessening Society and away from pesky humans. Scholarly, highly intelligent, and spiritual, they were, on the whole, a pretty nice group of people. Provided you weren’t on their shit list.
Trez looked at those pots and wondered what the meat in the sauces was. “I’m still working off the debt to Rehv,” he pointed out. “So that obligation has to come first.”
“Not to the s’Hisbe anymore. AnsLai said, and I’m quoting, ‘It’s time.’”
“I’m not going back there.” He met his brother’s eyes. “Not going to happen.”
iAm turned back to the pots, stirring each one with its designated spoon. “I know. That’s why I’ve been cooking. I’m trying to think of a way out of this.”
God, he loved his brother. Even pissed off, the guy was trying to help. “I’m sorry I pulled a ghost and made you deal with this. I really am. That wasn’t fair—I just…yeah, I really didn’t think it was safe to be in the same room with the guy. I’m very sorry.”
iAm’s thick chest rose and fell. “I know you are.”
“I could just disappear. That would solve the problem.”
Although, man, it would kill him to leave iAm. The thing was, if he went on the lam from the s’Hisbe, he could never have any contact with the male again. Ever.
“Where would you go,” iAm pointed out.
“Not a clue.”
The good news was that the s’Hisbe didn’t like to have any contact with UKs. No doubt even showing up at his and iAm’s apartment had been traumatic, even if the high priest had just dematerialized onto the terrace. Dealing directly with humans? Being around them? AnsLai’s head would explode.
“So what was your business?” iAm asked.
Great. Onto an equally happy subject.
“I went to see that warehouse property,” he hedged. But come on, like he was going to voluntarily bring up the chick and her boyfriend?
“At one a.m.?”
“I made an offer.”
“How much?”
“One four. The asking price is two and a half million, but there’s no way they’re going to get it. The place has been vacant for years, and it shows.” Although…even as he said that, he had to admit he’d felt presences there. Then again, maybe that had just been his stress level talking. “My guess is that they’ll come back at two, I’ll throw out one six, and we’ll come to terms at one seven.”
“Are you sure you want to tackle that project right now? Unless you show up at the territory with your mating tackle ready to be used, the issue with the s’Hisbe is only going to escalate.”
“If things come to a head, I’ll deal with it then.”
“When,” iAm corrected. “That would be ‘when.’ And I know what happened in the back parking lot, Trez. With the guy and that woman.”
Oooooof course he did. “You see the tapes or something?”
Goddamn security monitoring.
“Yes.”
“I handled it.”
“Just like you’re handling the s’Hisbe. Perfect.”
Temper flaring, Trez leaned in. “You want to be in my shoes, brother mine? I’d like to see how well you’d deal with this bullshit.”
“I wouldn’t be out fucking whores, I’ll tell you that much. Which makes me wonder…isn’t our real estate agent a female?”
“Fuck you, iAm. For real.”
Trez shot off the stool and marched out of the kitchen. He had enough problems, FFS—he didn’t need Mr. Superior with the Julia Child skills armchair-quarterbacking this whole thing with twelve kinds of potshot commentary—
“You can’t keep putting this off,” iAm called out from behind. “Or trying to bury it in between the legs of countless women.”
Trez stopped, but kept his eyes on the exit.
“You just can’t,” his brother stated baldly.
Trez pivoted around. iAm was over by the bar, the flap door swinging next to him so that there was a strobe-light effect of bright, dark, bright, dark. Every time the illumination made an appearance, it looked like his brother had a halo around his whole body.
Trez cursed. “I just need them to leave me alone.”
“I know.” iAm rubbed his head. “And I honestly don’t know what the fuck to do about it. I can’t imagine living without you, and I don’t want to go back there, either. I’m not coming up with any other options, though.”
“Those women…you know, the ones I…” Trez hesitated. “Don’t you think they’d get me off?”
“If they aren’t,” iAm said dryly, “I can’t see why you’re bothering with them.”
Trez had to smile a little. “No, I mean with the s’Hisbe. I’m as far from a virgin as you can get at this point.” Although at least he hadn’t sunk to farm animal level. “And what’s worse? They’ve all been UKs—mostly humans, too. That has to nasty them out. We’re talking about the queen’s daughter.”
As iAm frowned like he hadn’t fully considered the idea, Trez felt a ray of hope.
“I don’t know,” came the response. “Maybe that would work—but you’ve still cheated Her Majesty out of what she wants and needs. If they consider you compromised, they might just decide to kill you as a punishment.”
Whatever. They’d have to bring him down first.
On a wave of aggression, Trez dipped his chin and glared out from beneath his brows. “If that’s the case, they’ll have to fight me. And I guarantee that won’t go well for them.”
Back at the Brotherhood mansion, Wrath knew that his queen was upset the moment she came through the doors of his study. Her luscious scent was tinged with a sharp, acidic overhang: anxiety.
“What is it, leelan?” he demanded, holding out his arms.
Even though he couldn’t see, his memories provided him with a mental picture of her crossing the Aubusson rug, her long, athletic body moving with grace, her dark hair loose over her shoulders, her beautiful face marked with tension.
Naturally, the bonded male in him wanted to hunt down and kill whatever had upset her.
“Hi, George,” she said to his dog. Going by the thump-thump-thump on the floor, the retriever got some love first.
And then it was the master’s turn.
Beth climbed right up onto Wrath’s lap, her weight next to nothing, her body warm and alive as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on either side of the neck and then on the mouth.
“Jesus,” he growled, feeling the stiffness in her body, “you really are upset. What the fuck is going on?”
Goddamn it, she was shivering. His queen was actually trembling.
“Talk to me, leelan,” he said as he rubbed her back. And prepared to get armed and head out into broad fucking daylight if he had to.
“Well, you know about Layla,” she said in a rough voice.
Ahhhhh. “Yeah, I do. Phury told me.”
As her head shifted onto his shoulder, he repositioned her, holding her cradled against his chest —and it was good. There were times—not often, but every once in a while—when he felt like less of a male because of his lack of sight: Once a fighter, he was now stuck behind this desk. Once free to roam wherever he wanted, he now relied on a canine for navigation. Once utterly self-sufficient, he now needed help.
Not exactly good for a male’s ball sac.
But in a moment like this, when this amazing female was off-kilter and seeking him and only him for comfort and reassurance, he felt strong as a motherfucking mountain. After all, bonded males protected their mates with everything they had, and even with the burden of his birthright and this throne he was obligated to sit on, he remained at his core a hellren to this female.