Just like the other two who’d been to see him the night before. Excited. Ready to please. Honored to meet him.
Phury brought the blunt to his lips again and inhaled long and slow. “You don’t seem too thrilled with this.”
“With my sisters coming to see you? Of course I-”
“No, with meeting me.”
“On the contrary, I am eager to be with a male. I have been trained for mating and I want to serve as more than a blood source. Rhage and Vishous do not require all my services, and it is a burden to be unused…” Her eyes went to the books. “Indeed, I feel as though I am shelved. That I have been given the words to the story of my life, but that I remain largely unread, as it were.”
God, he so knew what that was like. He felt as though he had been waiting forever for things to settle down, for the drama to end, for him to be able to take a deep breath and start living. How ironic. It sounded as if Layla was feeling the way she was because nothing was happening in her life. He felt unread because too much had been going on for too long.
Either way, the end result was the same.
Neither of them was doing more than just getting through the day.
Well, cry me a river, mate, the wizard drawled.
Phury went over to an ashtray and stabbed out the blunt. “Tell the Directrix she doesn’t need to send anyone else to me.”
Layla’s eyes shot to his. “I beg your pardon?”
“I choose you.”
Qhuinn pulled the black Mercedes up in front of Blay’s house and put the thing in park. They’d waited for hours at ZeroSum, with John texting Blay every now and again. When they kept hearing nothing back, John had pulled up stakes and here they were.
“You want me to open your door,” Qhuinn said dryly as he cut the engine.
John looked over. If I say yes, would you do it?
“No.”
Then by all means, open my door.
“Damn you.” Qhuinn got out of the driver’s seat. “Ruining my fun.”
John shut his door and shook his head. I’m just glad you’re so manipulate-able.
“That’s not a word.”
Since when have you been in bed with Daniel Webster? Hello? “Gigunda”?
Qhuinn glanced to the house. He could just hear Blay’s voice filling in, That would be Merriam-Webster. “Whatever. ”
The two of them went around to the back of the house, going up to the door that went into the kitchen. The place was a big brick colonial, real formal-looking in front, but it had a cozy rear side, with kitchen windows than ran from floor to ceiling, and a stoop with a friendly wrought-iron lantern that hung down.
For the first time in his life, Qhuinn knocked and waited for an answer.
Guess it was a humdinger of a fight, huh, John signed. Between you and Blay.
“Oh, I don’t know. Sid Vicious behaved worse than I did, for example.”
Blay’s mom answered the door, looking exactly as she always did, all Marion Cunningham from Happy Days, from the red hair to the skirt. The female was everything that was round and lovely and warm about the fairer sex, and Qhuinn realized as he stared at her now that she, not his chilly swizzle stick of a mother, was the standard that he held females up to.
Yeah… it was fine and dandy to ball chicks and guys in bars, but he would mate someone like Blay’s mother. A female of worth. And he would stay true to her until the end of his days.
Assuming he could find someone who would have him.
Blay’s mother stepped back to let them in. “You know you don’t have to knock-” She looked at the platinum chain around Qhuinn’s throat, then at the new tat on his cheek.
Glancing at John, she murmured, “So that’s how the king fixed it.”
Yes, ma’am, John signed.
She turned to Qhuinn, threw her arms around him, and hugged him so hard his spine shifted. Which was so what he needed. As he held on to her, he took his first deep breath in days.
In a whisper, she said, “We would have kept you here. You didn’t have to go.”
“Couldn’t do that to you.”
“We’re a stronger lot than you think.” She loosened her hold on him and nodded to the rear staircase. “Blay’s upstairs.”
Qhuinn frowned as he saw a stack of luggage next to the kitchen table. “Going somewhere?”
“We have to get out of the city. Most of the glymera are staying, but with… what’s happened, it’s too dangerous here.”
“Wise idea.” Qhuinn shut the kitchen door. “You going upstate?”
“Blay’s father is looking for some vacation time, so the three of us are going to make the rounds of family down south-”
Blay appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Crossing his arms, he nodded at John. “Wassup.”
As John signed a greeting back, Qhuinn couldn’t believe his buddy hadn’t mentioned anything about leaving the city. Shit. Was he just going to take off and not say where he was going or when he was due back?
Well, duh. Wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?
Blay’s mom squeezed Qhuinn’s arm and whispered, “I’m glad you came before we left.” In a louder voice, she said, “Okay, I’ve cleaned out the fridge, and there’s nothing perishable in the pantry. I think I’ll go get my jewelry out of the safe.”
Jesus, John signed as she took off. How long are you guys going to be gone?
“Don’t know,” Blay said. “A while.”
In the long pause that followed, John looked back and forth between the two of them. Eventually he made a snorting noise and signed, Okay, this is stupid. What the fuck happened between you two?
“Nothing.”
“Nothing.” Blay nodded over his shoulder. “Listen, I gotta go up and finish packing-”
Qhuinn quickly jumped in. “Yeah, we hafta get go-”
Oh, hell, no. John marched over to the stairs. We’re going to your room and sorting this out. Right now.
As John put sole to step, Qhuinn had to follow the guy, thanks to his new job, and he figured Blay went along probably because his inner Emily Post couldn’t handle not being a good host.
Upstairs, John shut the bedroom door behind them all and put his hands on his hips. As his stare went back and forth, he was like a parent standing over two recalcitrant children and a mess on the floor.
Blay went over to his closet, and as he opened it, the full-length mirror on the back side caught Qhuinn’s reflection. Their eyes met for a moment.
“Nice new piece of jewelry there,” Blay murmured, looking at the chain that marked Qhuinn’s new station.
“Not jewelry.”
“No, it isn’t. And I’m happy for you two. I really am.” He took out a parka… which meant the family was either going “down south” as in Antarctica, or the guy intended to be away a long time. Like, into winter.
John stamped his foot. We’re running out of time here. Hello? Assholes?
“I’m sorry,” Qhuinn murmured to Blay. “For what I said in the tunnel.”
“You tell John about it all?”
“No.”
Blay dropped his coat on his Prada duffel bag and looked at John. “He thinks I love him. As in… in love with him.”
John’s mouth slowly fell open.
Blay’s laugh flared and stopped short, as if his throat got tight. “Yeah. Go fig. Me in love with Qhuinn… a guy who, when he’s not moody, is a slut and smart-ass. Except you want to know what the most fucked-up thing is, though?”
Qhuinn tensed as John nodded.
Blay glanced down at his duffel. “He’s right.”
Well, didn’t John look like he’d been nailed in the foot with a spike.
“Yup,” Blay said. “That’s why I could never get into the females all that much. None of them compared to him. No other guys do either, by the way. So I’m fucked royal, but then, that’s my biz and not his or yours.”