CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Blay had never seen anything like it. V’s glowing hand had extended downward, and then a nuclear-bright flash had lanced through the night, so intense and far-reaching that the entire mountain had lit up like noontime. Or at least that was what it had seemed. And in the aftermath? It was an artist’s drawing of the body’s position on a strip of barren, snowless ground, wisps of smoke rising for a moment.
Followed by only dark stillness.
It was as if the whole world had stopped spinning: No movement among the forest fauna, no deer careful-footing it through the leafless underbrush or owls calling to each other. No snaps of sticks or quiet moans of a breeze through pine branches. Certainly nothing from the Brothers and fighters, who were as statues in and among the trees.
Meanwhile, Qhuinn was fixated on where his brother had been, his big body shuddering. Then the labored breathing came next, heavy, loud. Finally, the male rolled off to the side and propped himself up on bowed arms. The retching went on and on, but nothing came up and out of his throat.
With utter helplessness, Blay stayed beside his mate, his hand on that heaving back, his own eyes watering. As all that pent-up emotion was released, Blay kept looking back and forth between the bare spot and his one true love.
And then, when there was finally an easing of the pain to his bereaved male, he spoke up.
“Come on, let’s go back inside. It’s cold out here.”
As he helped Qhuinn to his feet, he wasn’t sure the guy had any clue where he was. Like a zombie, Qhuinn allowed himself to be led away from where his brother had died, his sneakers taking the path they had forged out here into the forest, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes focused in front of him. There was no telling what was going through his mind.
No, that was a lie.
Blay could guess and all of it was bad.
And that was why he was so compelled to get his mate back inside. There was nothing he could do to help with the maelstrom in Qhuinn’s heart and head, but at least he could get him warm and dry.
As they came up to the Tahoe, V materialized in their path from out of thin air and nodded to the SUV. Blay shook his head. Like the Brother had said, they were only a hundred yards out. That was as far as Luchas had made it. Besides, Qhuinn didn’t stop walking, his trudging stride unbroken as he zeroed in on the camouflaged entry to the cave.
When it was time, Blay jumped ahead and held the drape back, and Qhuinn ducked in. Only to stop dead, like he had no clue where to go next.
“Follow me.” Blay hitched an arm through Qhuinn’s and started walking again. “Not much farther.”
The hatch was closed tight, and Blay entered the code and opened things so Qhuinn could keep going. Then he checked over his shoulder. The Brotherhood had closed ranks, but they were holding back, just looking around the draping, not yet venturing in. This was good. Space was good.
Into the tunnel. Pause by the gear, where Blay stripped the parka off Qhuinn and hung it up.
As Qhuinn looked around with seemingly blind eyes, his face was ruddy from the dry heaves, from the cold, maybe from V’s flash of light. He looked utterly lost, a young in the body of an adult.
“I didn’t want him to go.”
“Of course you didn’t—”
“Oh, God, Blay, what if he knew, what if he knew…”
“Knew what?”
Qhuinn rubbed his eyes and then stared at his hands like they belonged to someone else. “What if he’d read my mind. I mean, I can’t tell you the number of times I sat at his bedside and thought to myself… what kind of life is this for him? How does he keep going? I couldn’t fathom how he handled it. They were hacking parts of him off to keep him alive. He couldn’t walk. He couldn’t work his hands. He was down there in that patient room, all by himself.” Those mismatched eyes shifted over. “What if he read my mind? And knew…”
“It was not your fault,” Blay said through a tight throat. “You are not responsible for this.”
“But I am. I was the one who told them to take his leg. I was the one… maybe I could have done more, helped more.” Qhuinn dropped his face into his palms. “I thought I had more time with him. He was medically stable, so I thought there was time to talk. Time to help. Oh, fuck, this hurts.”
Blay didn’t know what to say. So he reached out and pulled his mate against him. As Qhuinn’s arms came around him and held on, he took that as a good sign. At least the connection between them was still there.
He had a feeling they were going to need it.
* * *
The next thing Qhuinn knew, he was in the mansion’s foyer. He didn’t remember the trip back to the grand, formal space, but he sure as shit hadn’t dematerialized his way here—and he was certain about this because: 1) too much steel to get through; and 2) no way he could have concentrated well enough to ghost out.
At this point, he wasn’t sure he could concentrate well enough to take a piss.