Dearest Virgin Scribe, this was…bliss.
Not a word that he used very often—and he didn’t want to sleep through this awakening. Even as the others lay sunk in the repose of the dead, each in the same spacey recovery that he, himself, was buffered in, he remained utterly aware of his glorious internal glow.
There was only one thing that was getting on his nerves.
The pacing.
He cracked an eyelid.
Just on the edge of the candlight, Xcor was walking back and forth, his path restricted by two of the massive column supports that held up the floor above them.
Their leader was never at ease, but this restlessness was different. Going by the way he was holding his cellular device, he was waiting for a call—and that explained why he was where he was. The only place you could get a phone signal down below was standing beneath one of the two trapdoors: The panels of them were made of wood, and the steel mesh that had been tacked underneath had been the only alteration made when they had chased off the vagrant humans, sealed up the exterior floors, and moved in.
That way, vampires couldn’t materialize down below.
And shit knew humans weren’t strong enough to pry open those six-inch-thick wooden boards—
The tinkling noise that emanated from their leader’s phone was far too civilized for the environs, the false bell sounding out cheerfully sure as a wind chime tickled by a spring breeze.
Xcor stopped and looked at the phone as he let it ring once more. Twice more.
Clearly, the male did not want to appear as if he had been waiting.
When he finally answered and put the phone to his ear, his chin lifted and his body calmed. He was back in control.
“Elan,” he said smoothly. There was a pause. And then those always low brows went all the way down. “At what date and time?”
Zypher sat up.
“The king called it?” Silence. “No, not at all. Only the Council would be allowed, at any rate. We shall remain on the periphery—at your request.”
The last part was spoken with no small amount of irony, although it was doubtful that the aristocrat on the other end of the conversation picked up on that. From what little Zypher had seen and heard from Elan, son of Larex, he was less than impressed. Then again, the weak were easily manipulated, and Xcor well knew this.
“There is something you should know, Elan. An attempt was made upon Wrath’s life in the fall—and be not surprised if there is an implication against myself and my soldiers at this forthcoming meeting—what? It occured at Assail’s, actually—but any other specifics are not relevant. So, indeed, one can surmise that Wrath is calling the gathering for the purpose of exposing me and mine—recall that I have warned you of such? Just remember that you have been utterly protected. The Brothers and the king do not know of our relationship—that is, unless one of your gentlemales has reported it in some manner to them. We, however, have remained tight-lipped. Further, know also that I am not afraid of being branded a traitor or becoming a target for the Brotherhood. I realize, however, that you are of a far more cultured and refined sensibility, and not only do I respect this, I shall do all in my power to insulate you from any brutality.”
Uh-huh, right, Zypher thought with an eye roll.
“You must remember, Elan, you are protected.”
As Xcor smiled more widely, it was with a full show of fangs, as if he were on the verge of latching onto the other male’s throat and tearing out his windpipe.
Good-byes were said shortly thereafter, and then Xcor ended the call.
Zypher spoke up. “All is well?”
Their leader’s head turned on the top of his spine, and as their eyes met, Zypher felt sorry for the idiot on the phone…and for Wrath and the Brotherhood.
The light in his leader’s stare was pure evil. “Oh, aye. All is very well indeed.”
TWENTY-FIVE
As the sound of unanswered ringing came through the landline, Blay held the receiver to his ear and sat down on the edge of his bed. This was weird. His parents should have been home this time of the night. It was so close to dawn—
“Hello?” his mother said, finally.
Blay exhaled long and slow, and shifted himself back against the headboard. Folding the bottom of his robe over his legs, he cleared his throat. “Hi, it’s me.”
The happiness that suffused the voice on the other end made him feel warm in his chest. “Blay! How are you! Let me get your father so he can hop on the other extension—”
“No, wait.” He closed his eyes. “Let’s just…talk. You and me.”
“Are you okay?” He heard the sound of a chair streaking across a bare floor—and knew right where she was: at the oak table in her precious kitchen. “What’s going on. You haven’t been hurt, have you?”
Not on the inside. “I’m…okay.”
“What is it?”
Blay rubbed his face with his free hand. He and his parents had always been close—ordinarily, there was nothing that he didn’t talk to them about, and this breakup with Saxton was exactly the kind of thing he’d usually bring up: He was upset, confused, disappointed, a little depressed…all the usual emotional stuff he and his mom processed in a two-way street of phone calls.
As he stayed silent, however, he was reminded that there was, in fact, one thing he had never broached with them. One very big thing…
“Blay? You’re scaring me.”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
True enough.
He supposed he hadn’t come out to them with respect to his sexual orientation because your love life was not something most people shared with their parents. And maybe there was also a part of him, however illogical it was, that worried about whether or not they would look at him differently.
Take out the maybe.
After all, the glymera’s policy on homosexuality was pretty clear: provided you were never overt about it, and you mated someone of the opposite sex like you were supposed to, you wouldn’t be expelled for your perversion.
Yeah, ’cuz getting hitched to someone you weren’t attracted to or in love with, and lying to them about sustained infidelity, was so much more honorable than the truth.
But God help you if you were a male and had a boyfriend on the up-and-up—as he had had for the last twelve months or so.
“I…ah, I broke up with someone.”
Annnnd now it was crickets on his mother’s side. “Really?” she said after a moment, like she was shocked, but trying to keep from showing it.
You think that’s a surprise, guess what’s coming next, Mom, he thought.
Because, holy shit, he was going to…
Wait, was he really going to do this now, over the phone? Shouldn’t it be in person?
What exactly was the protocol here?
“Yes, I, ah…” He swallowed hard. “I’ve been in a relationship for most of the past year, actually.”
“Oh…my.” The hurt in her tone stung him. “I—we—your father and I never knew.”
“I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”
“Do we know her? Or her family?”
He closed his eyes, his chest compressing. “Ah…you know the family. Yes.”
“Well, I’m very sorry it didn’t work out. Are you okay…? How did it end?”
“It just died, to be honest.”
“Well, relationships are so very difficult. Oh, my love, my dearest heart—I can hear how sad you are. Would you like to come home and—”
“It was Saxton. Qhuinn’s cousin.”
There was a sharp inhale over the connection.
As his mother went utterly silent, Blay’s arm started shaking so badly he could barely hold the phone.
“I…I, ah…” His mother swallowed hard. “I didn’t know. That ah, you…”
He finished what she could not in his head: I didn’t know that you are one of those people.
Like gays were social lepers.