Given the number of things that had gone haywire tonight, he pivoted and headed in that direction. As he continued along, motion-activated ceiling lights illuminated his way, his footfalls echoing around. God knew there was pelnty of distance to travel. The tunnel connected four things: the Pit, which was one terminal; the mansion and the training center in the middle; and at the far, far opposite end, there was a hidden escape hatch that dumped out on the mountain a quarter of a mile away.
No one should have gone in or out of it.
So why was the scent of the storm, of the night, of evergreens, in this part of the Brotherhood’s complex?
As he got close to the steel hatch, the lineup of emergency weapons, survival packs, and outerwear put in an appearance, everything ready to get grabbed in the event of a dramatic departure. And on the other side of the triple-locked portal? There was a shallow cave with a blacked-out Chevy Tahoe and several snowmobiles, the vehicles sheltered from the elements and camo’d from prying eyes and trespassing.
Glancing around, he frowned.
Nothing was out of place.
No damp footsteps were drying on the concrete floor.
No empty pegs were in the collection of equipment. No scent of gasoline, either.
Weird. But maybe V had decided to check everything. Considering how things were going tonight, who could blame him for the paranoia?
The classroom was the last one in the training center’s lineup, and as Blay pushed through its door and turned on the light, he looked to the place where he’d once sat as a student with John Matthew and Qhuinn. Back in their pretrans days, when they’d been in the Brotherhood’s training program here, they had stuck together. Part of it had been protecting John Matthew from Lash. More of it had been the simpler, enduring ties of friendship.
As Qhuinn followed him inside, the male had a curious expression on his face. Like everyone else, they’d waited outside Balz’s examination room and had been relieved to get confirming good news—and not just about the patient, although that was the most important thing. Tohr had also announced to everybody that even though the storm was in full rock and roll, all of the shutters up at the mansion were locked down, the tree in the library had been removed, and there was plywood covering the French doors the evergreen had broken open.
So considering the way things had started out?
Qhuinn went over to the blackboard—no dry-erase for the Brothers, none of that fancy new stuff—and picked up a piece of chalk. The heart outline he drew was yellow, the color of a lined legal pad. In the center, he wrote: “Q+B = 4EVA”
As he put the chalk back, he clapped his palms clean. “So I’m twelve, okay? Sue me.”
“I think you’re romantic.”
“Do I hit on you too much?” Qhuinn pivoted around. “I mean, am I—”
Blay answered that question by taking the bottom of his cashmere sweater and lifting it up and over his head. Then came the button-down shirt, the one that he’d chosen because it was blue and coral checked and complemented the blue sweater.
Qhuinn froze where his stood. Then his eyes flared.
“I locked the door,” Blay said. “And no, I don’t think you hit on me too much—” He put his palms out to stop his mate. Then he pointed forward. “Oh, no you don’t. I want you to sit there. Where the teacher would.”
With a sloppy shuffle, Qhuinn planted himself behind the empty desk—and did a piss-poor impression of a professor. Instead of looking like he was in charge, he linked his fingers together, put his hands primly in front of himself, and sat, spine rigid, like a good little boy praying he got a cookie for behaving nicely.
Splaying out his arms, Blay slowly turned in front of his mate. He was not an exhibitionist by any sense of the word, but he liked how the sight of his body made his lover feel.
For example, the groaning? Coming from behind that desk?
Best sound in the world.
Approaching Qhuinn, he put his left boot on the desk lip, angling his hips so that across the wood top, the bulge behind his fly was very obvious. He took his time with the de-lacing, and enjoyed the way Qhuinn’s eyes roamed around his bare shoulders and chest, his abs and his erection. And then it was the other side, again with the de-looping, the pulling free, the shucking out.