Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
“Have a safe trip home,” he said roughly. “Nice to meet ya.”
He didn’t wait for any kind of goodbye from her.
He couldn’t.
The two of them really shouldn’t have had anything in common.
Especially not the one thing that haunted him more than all the ghosts of his past put together.
He too was busy forgetting himself, every moment of every day.
And night.
CHAPTER TEN
The Black Dagger Brotherhood’s training center was located deep underground, about an eighth of a mile behind the First Family’s mansion. Though the big house had been abandoned, the training facility was very much in use, and as Qhuinn ripped open the steel door in from the parking area, he couldn’t decide whether he needed the medical clinic, the weight room, or the target range.
What a fucking night.
Striding down the concrete corridor, he unzipped his leather jacket so the warm air could get at his cold body. The classrooms were all empty, and just as well. Considering who they’d brought into the clinic, it was better for the place to be NPO.
Necessary Personnel Only.
And of course, then there was his mood. He really shouldn’t be around anybody who wasn’t in the thick of this fucking mess.
All parts of it: The shit that had almost happened to Lyric, the shit that might have happened to L.W., and the shit that had definitely happened to that male they’d found in the hidden room at Whestmorel’s.
After spending the last three hours threading the avenues of downtown, looking for the heir to the throne’s body, he’d pulled off the hunt to come assess how this other unstable situation was going. When he was done? He was going to head to Blay’s parents’ house and check on everybody there, including his daughter.
Lyric went there at the end of every night.
At least she was physically okay.
Arriving at the clinic section of things, he could hear voices on the other side of the only closed door among all the rooms. Doc Jane and Tohr were in there, rapid-firing some kind of conversation, and as he inhaled through his nose, he could scent the dying male. Word had it, the patient was still alive, but that update had been hours ago.
As he leaned back against the concrete wall and waited for one of the pair of them to come out, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the floor. His shitkickers had left a line of damp footprints that went all the way back to the parking garage’s reinforced door. Thanks to the heat that was being blown in from the ceiling vents, soon enough there would be no evidence of his path.
A reminder, not that he needed it, of how the whole mortal thing worked—
God, he hated coming to this place. The fact that his brother, Luchas, had been a patient here… and then chose to walk out the emergency exit into a snowstorm—
The door to the patient room opened and Tohr stepped through, a coffee mug in his hand, a grim expression on his face. As the brother’s navy blue eyes lifted, they registered surprise.
“Oh, hey, Q. What’s doing?”
Qhuinn lifted his dagger hand in a hi-how’re-ya. “Just wanted to come and see how things were going with that male.”
“Not great. But Doc Jane is doing everything she can.”
“Heard he coded twice in the mobile unit coming in.”
“Three times, actually.” Tohr ran his fingers over his high-and-tight. As the front resettled badly, the white streak formed a question mark. “Who’s counting at this point.”
There was a pause. “That coffee smells good.”
“Dunkin’.” Tohr took a sip. “You can’t go wrong with the OG. Especially on a night like tonight.”
“It’s been a bitch. I’m assuming nobody’s found L.W.?”
Stupid fucking question. There would have been immediate communication—
“Not yet.” Tohr tilted his head. “Did you need something?”
“I should have stayed out there. I just…”
“You’re dealing with enough right now. I told you two weeks ago that you shouldn’t be on schedule.”
To avoid the brother’s frank stare, Qhuinn looked down to the glass door into the training center’s office. He was staring in that direction, rather aimlessly, when a pattern of cracks on the concrete walling registered. It took a moment for the origin of them to sink in, and as he realized what they were, he cursed under his breath.
Oh, Christ. Did death have to stalk him like this tonight?
Just as the thought came to him, Tohr’s broad shoulders passed through his visual field—and as the brother walked over to the spidery fissures, Qhuinn straightened with a jerk.
“I wasn’t looking at…” He let the lie drift.
“How’s Rocke doing,” the brother said bleakly as he ran trembling fingertips along the pattern of veins.
You would know, Qhuinn thought sadly.
“He’s, ah, he’s focused on his shellan. What she needs, night by night… hour by hour. In a weird way, I don’t think he really knows what’s happening at this point. I can’t decide whether that is good or cruel.”