continued onward, heading to the other half of the city on the opposite shore.
He stayed on her, maintaining a safe distance, although he wondered who he was fooling. If he could sense his female?
It would be the same for her.
But he would not abandon her trail.
As Qhuinn sat in the passenger seat of the Mercedes, his Heckler & Koch forty-five was held discreetly on his thigh, and his eyes flipped incessantly from the rearview mirror to the side window to the windshield. Next to him, Phury was behind the wheel, the Brother’s hands doing a ten-and-two so tightly it was like he was strangling somebody.
Man, there was too much goddamn shit unraveling right now.
Layla and the young. That whole Cessna incident. What Qhuinn had done to his own cousin the night before. And then…well, there was the Blay thing.
Oh, dear God in heaven…the Blay thing.
As Phury got off the exit that would take them onto the bridges, Qhuinn’s brain shifted from worrying about Layla to reviewing all kinds of pictures and sounds and…tastes from the daylight hours.
Intellectually, he knew what had happened between them hadn’t been a dream—and his body sure as hell remembered everything, like the sex had been a kind of branding on his flesh that changed the way he looked forever. And yet, as he went about dealing with the newest frickin’ drama, the too-short session seemed prehistoric, not less than a night old.
He feared it was a one-and-only.
Don’t you touch me like that.
Groaning, he rubbed at his head.
“It’s not about your eyes,” Phury said.
“I’m sorry?”
Phury glanced into the backseat. “Hey, how we doing?” he asked the females. When Layla and Doc Jane answered in some sort of affirmative, he nodded. “Listen, I’m going to shut the partition for a sec, ’kay? All good up here.”
The Brother didn’t give them a chance to answer one way or another, and Qhuinn stiffened in his seat as the opaque shield rose up, cutting the sedan into two halves. He wasn’t going to run from any kind of confrontation, but that didn’t mean he was looking forward to round two of this one—and if Phury was cutting the pair in the back off, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Your eyes are not the problem,” the Brother said.
“Excuse me?”
Phury looked over. “My being pissed off about this has got nothing to do with any defect. Layla’s in love with you—”
“No, she’s not.”
“See, you’re really pissing me off right now.”
“Ask her.”
“While she’s miscarrying your young?” the Brother snapped. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
As Qhuinn winced, Phury continued. “See, here’s the thing with you. You like living on the edge and being all wild—frankly, I think it helps you come to terms with the bullshit your family put you through. If you iconoclast everything? Nothing can hurt you. And believe it or not, I don’t have a problem with that. You do you, and get through your nights and your days any way you can. But as soon as you break the heart of an innocent—especially if she’s under my care? That’s when you and I have an issue.”
Qhuinn looked out his window. First off, props to the big man over there. The idea that there was a judgment against Qhuinn based on his character instead of a genetic mutation he hadn’t volunteered for was a refreshing change. And hey, it wasn’t that he didn’t agree with the guy—at least not until about a year ago. Back before then? Hell, yeah, he’d been out of control on a lot of levels. But things had changed. He had changed.
Evidently, Blay becoming unavailable was the kind of boot in the balls he’d needed to finally grow the fuck up.
“I’m not like that anymore,” he said.
“So you are in fact prepared to mate her?” When he didn’t reply, Phury shrugged. “And there you go. Bottom line—I’m responsible for her, legally and morally. I may not be behaving like the Primale in some respects, but the rest of the job description I take pretty goddamn seriously. The idea that you got her into this mess makes me sick to my stomach, and I find it very hard to believe that she didn’t do this to please you—you said you both wanted a young? Are you sure that it wasn’t just you, and she did it because she wanted to make you happy? That’s very much her way.”
This was all presented as a rhetorical. And it wasn’t like Qhuinn could criticize the logic, even if it happened to be