The nurse took one look at what was going on—and immediately went into professional mode. “Come with me. Back to bed. Back to bed we go.”
Layla was dimly aware of the female taking her by the arm and depositing her back on the mattress.
“The young—what about the young—”
“Hold on, I’m calling for Doc Jane.” Ehlena hit the summoning button. “I’m just going to hook you up to the machines, okay?”
Everything happened so fast. Wires set upon her, monitors engaged, Doc Jane rushing in. The ultrasound rolled into the room. Manny arriving. Qhuinn and Blay nearly breaking down the door as they came in.
“The young,” she moaned. “What about the young…?”
It was as the wind blew o’er the land.
Consciousness returned to Xcor in the manner of a gust that traveled around and over a landscape, bypassing some things, rustling others, penetrating through still more. Accordingly, he was aware of many aches, and yet there were great patches of numbness, too—he could feel measures of agony and stretches of tingles … twitches and jerks … but then nothing at all in great swaths of his flesh.
Smell registered with acuity, however.
The scent of dirt confused him.
Behind his closed eyes, he oriented himself as best he could using his ears and his nose. He was not alone. There was the scent of one—no, two other male vampires with him. Further, they were speaking in low tones—well, one of them was. The other said naught that Xcor could ascertain.
He did not know them. Or, more accurately, he did not recognize them as being his soldiers—
The Brotherhood. Indeed, yes, he had scented them before. When the Brotherhood had come to speak unto the glymera at that meeting of the Council.
Had he been captured?
Hazy details of the night came back to him. Of him being in that alley next to that burned-out car shell. Of him following a food truck … following where? Where had he gone?
Was this a dream?
Images filtered across his mind’s eye, but they did not stay long enough for him to grasp—
“He’s frowning,” the male voice said. “His hands are moving. Are you awake, bastard?”
He could not have answered if his life depended upon it—and in fact, his life did depend on it. If he had been captured, the how’s and where’s were—
Campus.
He had not followed the food truck. No, he had been on top of the vehicle, riding through the night as the slayers he had been hunting had proceeded out of downtown, past the suburbs, unto an abandoned college or preparatory school’s campus.
Whereupon he had witnessed the aftermath of a great battle, a devastating loss for the Lessening Society.
Waged by the Brotherhood.
He had found a human. Upon a roof.
And then he himself had been struck upon the back of the head.
How long had he been unconscious? His body ached all over, not as if it had been beaten, but rather as if it hadn’t been used in a while.
“Are you finally awake?” the voice demanded.
Finally…? Yes, it must have been some time that he had been unconscious. In fact, he felt as though he had been lying in this position for a prolonged period.
What was that beeping—
Ringing. All of a sudden there was ringing—cell phones going off. The male who had been doing the speaking answered.
“What? When? How much? Oh, God … yes. Right away. Can Lassiter come and sit with him? Where is he? We’ll both come then.” There was a pause. “John—yes, it’s happening now and they need us for blood. We have to go. I don’t want to leave him, either, but what are we going to do? No, I don’t know where Lassiter is.”
There was some shuffling, as if they were gathering up supplies.
“No, they want both of us. She’s in labor. The young are coming and it’s too early.”
Layla!
Without thinking, Xcor’s lids popped open. The two fighters had turned away and were leaving, thank the Fates, so they caught him not.
“I’m terrified, too,” the one with the red hair said. “For her, for Qhuinn. And he’ll be fine. He’s going nowhere.”
The sounds of their footfalls decreased until there was a clanking, as if a gate or perhaps some chains were being moved. And then there was a repeat of all that.
Xcor blinked wildly. When he went to sit up, he found that, indeed, he was not going anywhere. There were steel bands at his wrists and ankles, and even around his waist. Moreover, he was too weak to do much more than hold his head up.
Craning around, he saw that he was surrounded by vessels of some description or another … they were jars, jars that were set upon shelves that ran from floor to ceiling. In a cave? And yet there was monitoring equipment keeping tabs on his bodily functions that were of complex and electronic nature.
“Layla…” he said in a voice that cracked. “Layla…”
Collapsing back against the bedding he was strapped down on, his will to escape and go to her was great though he knew not where she was or even where he was. His body had other plans, however. As night eclipsed the illumination of the daytime hours, darkness descended upon him once again.
Owning him.
His last thought was that the female he both loved and feared needed him, and he wanted to be there for her …
FIFTY-SIX
On the way out of TGI Friday’s, Rhage stopped by the hostess stand. Or rather, he was forced to come to a halt because the human woman who had seated him got in his path and wouldn’t move.
“Did you have a good meal?” she said as she pressed something in his hand. “That’s our customer service number. Give us a call and let us know how your meal was.”
The wink she gave him told him all the hell he needed to know and more about what a dial to those digits would get him—and it sure as shit wasn’t going to be a survey.
Not one without kneepads, at any rate.
He put the folded piece of paper back into her palm. “I’ll tell you right now. My wife and I had a wonderful time. So did our … er, friend. Thanks.”
As he pivoted away, he put his arm around Mary and drew her in close. Then he did the same to Bitty before thinking about it.
They left all together, squeezing through the double doors.
Outside, the night had gotten even colder, but his belly was more than full of food and he was really happy—and it was amazing how that kind of mood created its own warmth, independent of the weather.
Hell, it could have been sleeting and he would still have looked up to the dark sky and gone, Ahhhhhhhh.
As they were about to step off the curb and head for the car, a minivan pulled up and a mother and a daughter rushed over together to get in. Man, talk about a gene pool. The two of them had identical brown hair, the tween’s in a ponytail, Mom’s cut jaw-length. They were nearly the same height and both dressed in blue jeans and sweatshirts. Faces had the same bone structure, from the round cheeks and flat forehead to a stick-straight nose that he imagined some humans asked for in plastic surgery offices.
They were neither ugly nor beautiful. Not poor, but not rich. They were laughing, though, in exactly the same way. And that made them both spectacular.
Mom opened the door for the daughter and shooed her in. Then she leaned inside and quipped to the kid, “Ha, I so did win the bet! I totally did—and you’re doing the dishes all week long. That was the deal.”
“Mooooooom!”
The mother shut things on the protest and hopped into the front seat next to what had to be her husband or partner. “I told her, don’t bet against me. Not when it comes to Godfather quotes.”
The guy turned around to the daughter. “No way, I’m not touching this with a ten-foot pole. You know she’s memorized the movie, and yes, the correct wording is, ‘No Sicilian can refuse any request on his daughter’s wedding day.’”
The mother shut her door and the pale blue minivan pulled away.
For a moment, Rhage imagined what that trip home was like—and he found himself in a big fat hurry to do the same. Take Bitty home, that was.
And also argue about The Godfather, if that was the way things went. Or what Play-doh tasted like. Or whether it was going to snow early or late in the season.