As he headed for the gym, where they were going to be sparring, he was aware of a whole lot of things: He was exhausted, for one thing, but he had a feeling he needed to get used to that. He was in pain, but yeah, file that along with the former.
And he was terrified.
In his head, he was monitoring each and every thought he had, checking for signs that he was going to crash and burn as his father had. It was like he was searching for cracks in his foundation, waiting for his superstructure to collapse, anticipating the paralysis that he had watched for years.
He was already crippled on the inside. Surely the outside was going to go, too.
Because the truly pathetic thing? He had bonded with Elise.
Yes, as she had pointed out, it had been only a matter of nights, but—as he had so often heard, and never truly believed—when it came to males and their soul mates? It didn’t take time; it took the right female.
And Elise was right for him even if he was wrong for her.
So yeah, he was crippled and going to remain that way for the rest of his life.
But what the hell.
He’d already been crippled before. He was used to this.
Just as some people were destined to be happy?
Others simply didn’t win that lottery.
FIFTY-ONE
At the end of the evening, as everyone at the Brotherhood mansion came together and took their seats in the dining room, Rhage waited for Mary to give him the cue.
And when she did, just as the feast of Last Meal was being served, he turned to Bitty, who was next to him. “Hey, will you come with me and your mom for a second? Nothing is wrong, we just need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure!” The little girl was up and at ’em, ready to go. “Uncle Ruhn, I’m going to be right back. You stay with the BABUs!”
The male blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry?”
Lassiter leaned in. “Buffoons. She has a speech impediment. It’s really sad—”
Bitty nailed the angel in the arm. “Bad-Ass Big Uncles. And will you stop.”
“Nevaaaaaaaaaaah!” the angel cackled. Before giving Bitty a playful tug on her hair.
As Bitty skipped out ahead and Rhage drew Mary in against him, he called out, “The library, okay? Bit, we’re going in the library.”
“Roger that,” she said.
“You ready?” he whispered to his shellan. As she nodded, he murmured, “It’s going to be fine.”
When they were all in there together, he shut the doors. Man, it felt like he was back in his own skin, his own life, his own ocean, swimming freely with the current instead of against it. And Mary was the same way—Dearest Virgin Scribe, it was good to see the light back in his shellan’s eyes and the smile on her face.
And as for Ruhn? The guy was a gem. Quiet, dignified in himself, not a pansy, either. He had insisted on carrying his things up to the guest room he’d been given down the hall of statues. And was already looking for projects to fix, clean, or improve.
Fritz was going to learn to hate the motherfucker.
“What is it?” Bitty said—before she got distracted by the Christmas tree. “Oh, my—we need to celebrate your holiday, Mom. But not yet. Ruhn needs presents. We need to … we need to figure out what he likes and I have an allowance. I can get him some myself—but you guys need to, too.”
Mary laughed and drew the girl over to the sofa. “Absolutely, we will.”
“Yay! So what’s going on—Father, we need to watch Deadpool with him. He hasn’t seen any movies. Like, ever. Not even Jaws. I have a draft list, and I want you to go through it with me. We’ll set up a viewing schedule just like we did for me.”
Rhage nodded. “Absolutely. That kind of deficit is more important than literacy.”
Mary put her head in her hands. “You two are insane.”
Rhage put his palm out for a high five and Bit slapped it with her own. “Nailed it,” Rhage said. “Now, we need to get serious. Your mom has something she needs to tell you.”
Bitty focused on their Mary. “G’head, Mom.”
Jeez, it felt good to have that word back in their vocabulary.
In the short silence that followed, Rhage frowned and looked around.
For some reason, he was aware that they were not alone … and yet no one else seemed to be in the library with them.
Mary took Bit’s hand and smoothed the back of it. “Do you remember when I told you I was sick?”
“The cancer isn’t back?” the girl asked with fear. “You aren’t—”
“No, no. Absolutely not. And that’s kind of what I need to tell you.”
“What? … I don’t understand.”
In a steady stream of perfectly chosen words, Mary told the story from start to finish. The cancer. Rhage coming into her life. The Scribe Virgin’s intervention … and what it meant.
“You mean … you’re immortal?” Bit breathed. “You’re like a god or something?”
“Oh, no. No, no, not a god. Never. That is one job I wouldn’t want. But it does mean … well, think of it like this. I get to choose when I go into the Fade. Like, you know how everyone ages along a line? They get older every year? And sometimes bad things happen to them and they get sick or hurt or something?”
“Yes. As with Father when he was shot. Before his vests. Or … what happened to my mahmen.”
As Mary reached up and stroked the little girl’s face, Rhage thought, Oh, my two females. My two perfect females in the firelight …
“Well, it’s not like that for me,” Mary said.
“So you can live as long as I do?”
“Yes, I can.”
Bitty’s eyes got watery. And then she threw her arms around Mary. “So you’ll never leave me. I’ll never lose my mother.”
Okaaaaay, time for some throat clearing.
“Never. Ever.” Mary held the girl and smiled through beautiful tears. “Not ever. And I didn’t want to hide this from you—but I also didn’t want it influencing your decision to stay with us?”
“I just feel lucky. I just feel so lucky.” Bitty pulled back and looked at Rhage. “But what about you?”
“Bulletproof vests, my girl.” He sniffed like he had allergies. ’Cuz it wasn’t like he was crying or some shit. Nah. “Training and equipment. It’s what I told you before, I go out to do my job and intend to come home to my females every night.”
Bitty got quiet for a moment. But then she nodded. “Okay, but you’ll be careful—”
Rhage frowned as something caught his eye.
A sun spot. On the carpet. By the tree.
“Lassiter,” he called out. “Really?”
The angel appeared all at once, his blond-and-black hair and his gold hoops and necklaces and earrings creating that aura he always had. Or hell, that glow was probably just him.
“What I say?” the angel demanded as he Vanna-White’d the three of them. In zebra-striped leggings that were clearly out of Steven Tyler’s wardrobe. “Have faith. Believe. And all will be well. What. Did. I. Say.”
Rhage had to laugh. “Fantastic. Another reason for you to be full of it.”
“Greatness is as greatness does.” The angel pivoted in a circle and then pulled a Michael Jackson, moonwalking backward until he popped up onto the toes of his shoes. “And I am awwwwwwesommmme.”
Mary and Bitty started laughing, too, and Rhage just sat back and smiled.