cover territory, if they’re supervised by the Bastards,” Tohr said. “We definitely need the full Brotherhood at that house and John and Blay, too. If this is a coup, it’s going to have to be dealt with then and there.”
“You’re goddamn right about that.” Wrath looked around at the group. “If it turns out they’re plotting against me? I want them all dead. Are we clear? You kill them where they stand. I’m done with this glymera shit.”
John whistled so that everyone looked at him. How about Murhder? He could help if we need more fighters.
There was an awkward silence. And then Tohr said, “I appreciate your loyalty to the guy. But—”
I’ve seen him fight. He’s a total badass.
“What’s John saying,” Wrath snapped. “Will someone please fucking translate.”
Standing off to the side of shAdoWs’s dance area, Xhex was smiling. Even though the purple lasers pierced her eyeballs, and the music made her eardrums pound, and the humans who were drunk, high, and hyper-sexed required constant oversight, she was GloLite happy. Positively radiant on the inside. Downright fucking cheerful.
Like, greeting card cheerful.
She might as well have a pink bow in her hair and be wearing fuzzy slippers—
As a fight broke out between two men, one of them got shoved in her direction, his arms pinwheeling, his balance going off-kilter, his sloppy feet tap dancing to the tune of “Too Much Coke, and That Wasn’t My Girlfriend I Just Grinded On.”
Xhex caught him with both hands and stood him back up. “You want to stop or go back in?”
The guy looked across at the steaming hot pile of I’ma-fuck-you-up who was waiting for round two. “I want to fight him! I can do what I want! She weren’t nothing—”
“Roger that. Have at it.”
Xhex obligingly shoved him back at the guy who was probably going to use his face as a punching bag—oh, yup. Here we go, melee time.
“I thought you were supposed to stop things like this?”
She turned and looked up at Tohr. “Hey! How are you?”
“Aren’t you security?” They clapped hands. “I mean, not that I’m complaining. I love watching amateurs—oh, ground time.”
The two combatants hit the floor, all sloppy, flappy hands, and bronco bucking butts.
“I’ll give you five bucks on the one with the yellow shirt,” Xhex said.
Tohr took out his wallet. Checked his money. “You got it, but you’re going to have to break a hundy. It’s all I got.”
“No worries.”
They hung back and waited for the outcome to arrive. Which it artificially did when one of her bouncers stepped in and pulled apart the two snarling tomcats.
“Damn it,” she muttered as she pulled her fold of bills out of her ass pocket. “Why do I only hire people who insist on doing their job.”
As a second bouncer came over and the two combatants were ushered out to the Buck Stops Here room in the back, Tohr put her fiver into his wallet.
“So you wanted to see me?” he said.
“Yeah.” Fun time was now over. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“Trez around?” the Brother asked as they headed over to the staircase to the office. “I haven’t seen him for a while.”
“He’s here and there.”
“That Selena thing …”
“Horrible. Just awful. If there actually is someone running this show from up above, they need to make that right.” She stopped halfway up the steps. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to suggest that Wellsie’s death isn’t … shit. Fuck.”
Tohr took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. And everything is the way it’s supposed to be.”
She squeezed back and then kept on going, opening the door to Trez’s office. When she shut herself and the Brother in together, the music was buffered to a dull thud.
Tohr wandered over to the bank of glass and stared down at the humans. His reflection was one of sadness, and she gave him a moment to come back from the past and his unfathomable loss.
Hell, after getting as close as she had to losing John Matthew, she couldn’t imagine how Tohr handled the death of his shellan. But the Brother had somehow continued on in his life, meeting and falling in love with Xhex’s mahmen, Autumn.
It was possible to go on.
The Brother turned around and tucked his muscle shirt into his leathers, even though it wasn’t loose. Then he straightened his leather jacket.
“Okay,” he said in a normal voice. “So what’s up?”
“I need to make something right.” She planted her boots and braced herself, even though there was nothing coming at