At least Layla was doing well: still nauseated and smiling constantly.
Still pregnant, thanks to Blay’s intervention…
“East by northeast,” Rhage said as he consulted the map.
“Roger that,” Qhuinn replied.
And so they went on, going deeper into the territory, the forest fanning out all around them for hundreds and hundreds of yards…and then by a mile. And then by several miles.
The cabins were largely the same, roughly twenty by twenty, open-spaced in the center, no bathroom, no kitchen, just a roof and four walls to file down the worst of the weather’s teeth. The farther in they went, the more dilapidated the structures became—and they were all empty. Logical. This was a long trek if you were on foot—and lessers, as strong as they were, couldn’t dematerialize.
At least, most of them couldn’t.
That had to have been the Fore-lesser, he thought. Only explanation for how that injured slayer had gone ghost like that.
The seventh cabin they came to was directly on a trail that had been used frequently enough at some point so that they could still see its path through the evergreens.
This one was missing a number of panes of glass, and its door had been blown open, a snowdrift barging in like a burglar. Qhuinn crunched grimly through the ice pack, his shitkickers making mincemeat of the pristine surface as he closed in on the porch. With a flashlight in his left hand and a forty-five in his right, he jumped up under the eaves and leaned in.
Same shit, different dead space.
As he swept the interior, there was a whole lot of absolutely frickin’ nothing. No furniture. Some built-in shelving that was empty. Cobwebs that waved in the breeze coming through the busted windowpanes.
“Clear,” he called out.
Turning away, he thought this was bullshit. He wanted to be downtown kicking ass, not out here in the middle of nowhere, hunting and pecking and coming up with nada.
Rhage put a penlight between his teeth and unfolded the map once again. Making a mark with a pen, he tapped the heavy paper. “Last one is about a quarter mile to the west.”
Thank. Fuck.
Assuming everything was as snore as it had been, they should be out of this and engaging the enemy in the alleys within fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.
Piece of cake.
FIFTY-NINE
“You look really happy.”
Layla glanced over. On some level, it was unfathomable that the queen of the race was propped up next to her on the bed, reading Us Weekly and People, and watching television. Then again, except for the huge blood red Saturnine Ruby that winked on her finger, she was as normal as could be.
“I am.” Layla put aside the article on the newest season of The Bachelor and laid her hand upon her belly. “I am ecstatic.”
Especially given that Payne had stopped by earlier, and appeared to be back to feeling like herself. Although Layla’s wish for the pregnancy to continue was nearly pathological, the idea that the blessing had come at a cost to the other female had not sat well.
“Do you wish to have young?” Layla blurted. And then had to add, “If it does not offend—”
Beth batted away the concern. “You can ask me anything. And, God, yes. I want some so badly. It’s funny, back before my change? I had no interest in them—at all. They were a noisy, out-of-control complication that I honestly didn’t know why people bothered to bring into their lives. Then I met Wrath.” She pushed her dark hair back and laughed. “Needless to say, everything has changed.”
“How many needings have you had?”
“I’m waiting. Praying. Counting down.”
Layla frowned and made busywork opening a new sleeve of saltines. It was hard to remember much in specific of those crazy hours with Qhuinn—but it had been a trial of epic proportions.
Given the miracle that was still resting within her, it had all been worth it.
However, she couldn’t say she ever wanted to go through her fertile time again. At least not unmedicated.
“Well, I wish your needing for you soon, then.” Layla bit into yet another cracker, the square splintering and melting in her mouth. “And I can’t believe I’m saying that.”
“Is it as rough as…I mean, I didn’t get to talk to Wellsie much about hers before she passed, and Bella’s never said anything about her time.” Beth looked down at the queen’s ring, as if admiring the way its facets captured and reflected the light. “And I don’t know Autumn all that well—she’s lovely, but given everything she and Tohr have just been through, it doesn’t seem an appropriate topic to bring up with her.”
“It’s mostly a blur, to be honest.”
“Probably a blessing, huh.”
Layla winced. “I wish I could tell you otherwise—but yes, I believe it is a blessing.”
“It’s got to be worth it, though.”
“Without a doubt—I was just thinking that very thing, as a matter of fact.” Layla smiled. “You know what they say about pregnant females, yes?”
“What?”
“If you spend time with them, they’ll encourage your needing to come.”
“Reeeeeeally.” The queen grinned. “Then you could be the answer to my prayers.”
“Well, I’m not sure whether it’s true. On the Far Side, we’re fertile all the time. It’s only here on Earth that females are subjected to hormone fluctuations—but I have read about the effect in the library.”
“Then let’s do our own experiment, shall we?” Beth offered her palm for a shake. “Besides, I like being here. You’re very inspirational.”
Layla’s brows peaked as she shook what was presented to her. “Inspir—oh, no. I cannot see that at all.”
“Think of everything you’ve been through.”
“The pregnancy has resolved itself, though—”
“Not just that. You’re the survivor of a cult.” As Layla gave her a blank look, the queen asked, “You’ve never heard of that?”
“I know the word’s definition. But I’m not sure it applies to me.”
The queen glanced away, as if she didn’t want to create discord. “Hey, I could be wrong, and you would certainly know better than me—besides, you’re happy now, and that’s what matters.”
Layla focused on the television across the way. From what she understood, a cult was not a good thing, and survivor was a term usually associated with people who had been through some kind of trauma.
The Sanctuary had been as placid and temperate as a spring day upon the earth, all the females in the sacred place calm and at peace with their important duties to the mother of the race.
No coercion. No strife.
For some reason, Payne’s voice entered her mind.
You and I are sisters in my mother’s tyranny—casualties of her grand plan for the way things must be. We were both jailed by her in different ways, you as a Chosen, myself as her blooded daughter.
“I’m sorry,” the queen said, reaching out and touching Layla’s arm. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I honestly don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.”
Layla snapped herself back to attention. “Oh, please, do not concern yourself.” She clasped the queen’s hand. “I take no offense at all. But now, let us speak of happier things—such as your hellren. He must be impatient for your time to come as well.”
Beth laughed tightly. “That is not exactly where he’s at.”
“Surely he must want an heir?”
“I think he’ll give me one. But only because I want a child as badly as I do.”
“Oh.”
“‘Oh’ is right.” Beth gave Layla’s palm a squeeze. “He just worries too much. I’m strong and healthy, and ready for it. Now, if I could just get my body to get in gear—hopefully, it will take your cue.”
Layla smiled and rubbed her flat belly. “Did you hear that, little one? You need to help your queen. It’s important for the royal family to have a young.”