deep, serious, no-bullshit tones sinking into his brain, helping to ground himself in a reality that didn't involve the past.
And then the last one was the final rung of the ladder that got him out of that mental tailspin and back to what was real. "Wrath."
Qhuinn went to jerk his head toward the king, but the impulse got him nowhere.
"I'm going to let you go, buddy, okay?" V said. "You gonna mind your manners?"
"Yeah."
"On three. One. Two. Three - "
Vishous leaped back and landed in a hand-to-hand combat pose: arms up, fists ready, stance stable. In spite of the fact that the Brother's face was covered by the hood, Qhuinn could just picture the expression: No doubt that if Qhuinn made any move, he'd be reintroduced to the wall - and that acquaintance had already been well and truly made, fuck him very much.
He felt about six inches flatter.
With a curse, Qhuinn turned around slowly, keeping his hands where the Brotherhood could see them. "Are you kicking me out of the house?"
He had no clue what the hell he'd done, but with his history of pissing people off - on purpose and by default? Could be anything.
"No, you idiot," V said with a laugh.
Facing the lineup of hooded, solemn figures, he searched where the faces were, making contact, reminding himself that these were the guys he had fought with side by side, that they'd always had his back, that they'd worked together.
So what the hell was going -
The third figure from the left lifted his arm, a long finger extending out and pointing to the dead center of Qhuinn's chest.
Instantly, Qhuinn was back in the carcass of the Cessna, the in-flight drama over, Zsadist alive and well, the goal reached...that male singling him out as he was now.
In the Old Language, Wrath said, "You shall be asked a question. You shall be asked it only once. Your answer shall stand the test of time, extending out from this moment unto your bloodline forever more. Are you prepared to be asked."
Qhuinn's heart began to thunder. Eyes bouncing around, he couldn't believe that this was...
Except...how was it possible? Based on his bloodlines and his defect, it wasn't legal for someone like him to -
From out of nowhere, the image of Saxton working in that library for all those nights hit him.
Holy...fuck.
So many questions: Why him? Why now? What about John Matthew, whose chest already, magically, bore the marking of the Brotherhood?
As his mind raced, he knew he had to answer, but shit, he couldn't -
With a sudden clarity, he thought of his daughter, picturing that image that he'd seen in the door to the Fade.
Qhuinn looked at each of the hoods again. How ironic, he thought. Nearly two years ago, an Honor Guard of black robes had been sent to him to make sure he knew his family didn't want him. And now, here these males were, come to draw him into a different kind of fold - that was every bit as strong as that of blood.
"Hell, yeah," he said. "Ask me."
Blay's first clue that something big was up was the sound of footfalls going by his room: He was in front of his mirror, shaving, when he heard them come down the hall of statues, heavy, repetitive - a lot of them.
Had to be the Brotherhood.
Then, as he bent over the sink to rinse the residual shaving cream off his cheeks, something hard dropped to the floor next door - or was thrown at a wall. In what sure as shit seemed like Qhuinn's room.
Cranking off the hot and cold mix, he snagged a towel and wrapped it around his hips as he jogged out of his suite and headed down to -
Blay skidded to a halt. Qhuinn's room was dark, but the light from the corridor shone in...on a circle of black robes that surrounded the guy. As he was held face-first against the wall.
Blay's only thought was that a second Honor Guard had come for the fighter - even though he knew damn well that it was the Brotherhood under all those robes. Had to be, right?
Vishous's voice solved that one, the male's words slow and even.
Then Qhuinn was released. As he turned around, he was white as a sheet, shaking as he stood naked in the center of that circle of hooded figures.
Wrath cut through the silence, the king's deep baritone filling the darkness. "You shall be asked a question. You shall be