“Beth?”
Snapping to attention, she looked over at Layla. “I’m sorry, what?”
“What would you like to watch?” Layla asked.
Oh, wow, Blay and Qhuinn had left. “Um … I say whoever threw up last gets to pick.”
“It’s not that much of a hardship.”
“You are a real trooper, you know that?”
“Not really, no. But may I say that I wish for you the same opportunity to … how do you say, tuck it up?”
“Suck. It’s ‘suck it up.’”
“Right.” The Chosen picked up the remote and got the Time Warner cable guide up on the screen across the way. “I’m determined to get this vernacular thing correct. Let’s see … Millionaire Matchmaker?”
“I love Patti.”
“Myself as well. You know, this ice cream really hit the stop.”
“Spot. Do you want more? I can go down and—”
“No, let’s see if this stays put.” The Chosen lay her hand on her own belly. “You know, I truly do wish this for you and the King.”
Beth stared down at her body, willing it to get with the program. “Can I be honest?”
“Please.”
“What if I’m infertile.” As the words blurted out, her chest burned with a fear so deep, she was sure it was going to leave a scar.
Layla reached out a hand. “Don’t utter those words. Of course you aren’t.”
“I’m a half-breed, right? I never had normal periods when I was … you know, before I went through the change. I would go years without having one, and then what I did get just wasn’t right.” No reason to go into specifics with the Chosen, but what had presented itself as a period would be so light—not at all what other girls described. “And after my transition, all of that stopped.”
“Well, I’m not overly familiar with the way cycles work down here, but it’s my understanding that five years after the change you can expect your first needing. How long has it been?”
“Two and a half.” Annnnnd now she felt really nuts. Why should she be worried about something that shouldn’t even be on the horizon for three more years? “Before you say it, I know, I know … it would be totally early if I managed to kick-start it now. A miracle. But the rules for half-breeds are that there aren’t any, and I’m hoping…” She rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I’ll stop. The more I say all this out loud, the more I realize how insane I am.”
“On the contrary, I understand completely where you are. Don’t apologize for wanting a young or for doing whatever it is you can to have one. It’s perfectly normal—”
Beth didn’t mean to hug the Chosen. It was just … one minute she was back against the pillows; the next she was holding on to Layla.
“Thank you,” Beth choked out.
“Dearest Virgin in the Fade.” Layla held on in return. “Whate’er for?”
“I need to know someone else gets it. Sometimes I feel alone.”
Layla inhaled a great breath. “I know how that is.”
Beth backed up. “But Blay and Qhuinn are totally with you in this.”
The Chosen just shook her head, a strange expression tightening her features. “It’s not about them.”
Beth waited for the other female to fill in the blank. When she didn’t, Beth didn’t pry. But maybe … just maybe things were not quite as uncomplicated as they appeared on the outside. It was well-known that the female had been in love with Qhuinn at some point—but it had seemed as if she’d come to terms with the fact that he was destined for another.
Clearly, she was better at hiding her feelings in public than people assumed.
“Do you know why I wanted this so badly?” Layla said as they both resettled into their respective pillows.
“Tell me. Please.”
“I needed something of my own. So does Qhuinn.” She glanced over. “And that’s why I envy you. You’re doing it for a communion with your mate. That is … extraordinary.”
God, what could she say in response? “Qhuinn loves you in a special way”? That was like soothing someone’s compound fracture with an aspirin.
As the Chosen’s pale green eyes shifted back to the television screen, she appeared far older than her youth.
It was a good reminder, Beth thought to herself. Nobody had it perfect—and as much as Beth was struggling, at least she wasn’t carrying the baby of the man she loved … while he was happily with someone else.
“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you,” she heard herself say. “To love someone you can’t be with.”
Wide eyes shot back to her own—and there was an echo of something she couldn’t decipher in them.
“Qhuinn’s a good male,” Beth said. “I can understand why you care about him.”
Awkward moment. And then the Chosen cleared her throat. “Yes. Indeed. So … Patti appears displeased with this gentleman.”
Great, Beth thought. So far she’d made her brother pass out, gotten on her husband’s case … and now she was clearly upsetting Layla.
“I won’t tell anyone,” she said, hoping to make things better.
“Thank you,” the Chosen replied after a moment. “I would be ever grateful for that.”
Forcing herself into a refocus, Beth found that, yup, Patti Stanger was chewing some greasy-haired lothario a new one.
They’d probably violated her “Nothing in here, here, or here” rule. Either that or he’d jackassed out big-time on the date.
Beth tried to get into the blow up, but the vibe was off in the room, sure as if there were someone else in with them, a specter or a ghost, and not in the Doc Jane sense.
No, a weight had settled in the very air itself.
As the episode concluded, Beth checked her watch even though the TV flashed the time. “I think I’ll go see how Wrath is. Maybe it’s break time.”
“Oh, yes, and I’m tired. Mayhap I’ll sleep.”
Beth got off the bed and collected the empty bowl and carton, returning them to Fritz’s tray. Over at the door, she glanced back.
Layla was sitting against those pillows, eyes staring at the television as if she were mesmerized. But Beth didn’t buy it. The female was a chatterer when it came to viewing, prone to lively discussion about everything from what people were wearing to how they expressed themselves to whatever drama she found shocking.
In this moment, however, she was pulling a Wrath—here but not here, present and disappeared at the same time.
“Sleep well,” Beth said.
There was no response. And there would be no sleep for the female.
Beth slipped out into the hall of statues … and stalled.
In fact, she wasn’t going to go see Wrath. She didn’t trust herself at the moment. She was too up and down and back and forth emotionally—and she wasn’t entirely sure she could not bring up the baby thing with him the second they were alone.
No, before she saw him, she needed some equilibrium.
It was in her best interests.
And everybody else’s.
SEVEN
Assail killed his fourth human a moment after he dropped number three.
And the Scribe Virgin help him, he was itching to off the last of the trio who had arrived with such alacrity. He wanted to discharge a bullet into the man’s gut and watch him writhe and suffer on the driveway. He wanted to stand over the dying and breathe in the scent of the fresh blood and the pain. Then he wanted to kick the corpse when it was over. Maybe light it on fire.
But Ehric was right. Whom would he question then?
“Retain him,” he ordered, nodding to the remaining human male.
Ehric’s brother was more than happy to oblige, stepping in and craning an arm around that thick neck. With a vicious crank, he bent the man backward.