Wiping the stain away as best he could, he whispered hoarsely, “I shall get your son, and I shall make sure he finds a safe home. This is my vow to you.”
Pulling the quilts up higher on her neck, as if he could stave off the cooling of the body, he was crushed even as he remained whole. And though she was nominally a stranger, it was impossible not to think of her as blooded kin, the two of them united by events that forged a bond ne’er to be broken.
Bending over the bed, he covered her fragile remains with his strength, the shield of his support too late in coming, the sword of the Reaper having already done its work.
Why was he always too late? Murhder thought as he gathered her in his arms.
Despair, a familiar swamp, drenched him in its swill of sadness, and he retreated deep into his mind as he began to weep.
I will find your son a proper father, he vowed silently. It will be the last thing I do before I join you unto the Fade.
Xhex ended the call to the training center’s clinic and looked across the meadow. The Brotherhood was somewhere in the trees and she waved her hand to catch their attention. Figuring they’d know what the signal meant, she went back inside the farmhouse, treading over creaking boards, walking through cold, still rooms.
When she got to the bedroom, she stopped short in the doorway. She had intended to go in.
She did not.
Across the cold, barren space, a tapestry of mourning tore at her soul, and told her all she needed to know about the futility of medical help. Murhder had covered the female’s form with his own body, and the shuddering of his shoulders as well as the scent of tears was such a private moment that she backed off.
Lowering her head, she covered her mouth with the palm of her gloved hand and put her other arm around her middle. Sometimes in-the-nick-of-time was still not good enough, and it was impossible not to put herself in Murhder’s position.
God, that male had been born under a dark star. He seemed destined for suffering.
She was standing in the middle of the main room when Rhage and Vishous came up onto the shallow porch.
“What’s going—” Rhage didn’t finish the question. The scents in the air said everything. “Shit.”
“She’s dead. The female is dead.” Xhex glared at V. “And no, he didn’t kill her.”
The Brother cocked an eyebrow. “Did I say anything?”
“I can read your grid.” She pointed to the center of her chest. “Symphath, remember?”
“How can we help?” Rhage interrupted. “What can we do?”
Xhex glanced over her shoulder. As she blinked, she saw Murhder crumpled over that corpse, and wanted to scream at destiny that the poor bastard deserved a break.
“Nothing,” she muttered. “There’s nothing to be done.”
“We can’t just leave a dead body here.” V took out a hand-rolled. “We’re gonna have to—”
“Don’t you fucking light up in here.”
That diamond stare narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Have some respect—and if you point out she’s dead, I will have your throat in my hand before you get the final word out. This is still her house, goddamn it.”
As V’s icy eyes flashed with aggression, she hoped the Brother came at her. She wanted to fight with something she could physically strike. But instead, he turned around and headed back for the door. The muttering was under his breath. The f-bombs were nonetheless still audible.
Xhex ripped off her hat and rubbed her short hair. Talk about emotional grids. With the amount of anger she had in her, she was dangerous and not a value add in this highly charged situation. And the last thing Murhder needed was more drama.
Marching over to the open door, she leaned out. V had set up shop against a column and was blowing a stream of smoke into the night.
“I am sorry I took your head off,” she said roughly. “This is a shitty situation.”
The Brother looked across at her. His inhale on the hand-rolled was long and slow, the tip glowing bright orange. As he exhaled, he talked through the smoke. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be lighting up in someone else’s crib. It’s rude.”
Xhex nodded. Vishous nodded.
When she went back inside, she stopped short. Murhder had come out from the back bedroom, and other than bloodshot eyes that gleamed too bright, you wouldn’t have known he’d just lost it.