own life, you were barred from the Fade. But surely . . .
“Vishous. He’s there, right.”
V’s eyes lowered. “He was a right and just male, horribly treated by fate.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“That’s the best I can do.”
Qhuinn rubbed his face. “Let’s just do this.”
If he got caught up in the unfairness of it all right now, he was going to fucking explode.
Vishous, birthed son of the Scribe Virgin, nodded. And then he slowly lowered the terrifying power that somehow resided within his flesh.
Just before contact was made, Qhuinn had a spasm of doubt, of panic. He almost called it all off—but what had changed? Where else would they take Luchas?
“Oh, God . . .” Qhuinn breathed. “Oh, God, oh—”
The flare of light was intense, the release of energy so great that Qhuinn was thrown into Blay, the pair of them landing in the snow on a sprawl. And he had expected the final act of his blooded brother’s life to last awhile, but it was over . . . within seconds. Or at least that’s what it seemed.
There wasn’t even a scent. He’d braced himself to smell burning flesh and hair, but there was nothing of that sort and not because the wind had changed directions.
As the illumination started to fade, Qhuinn lifted his arm from the shield it had become over his face—he hadn’t even been aware of raising it.
There was nothing left.
In the spot where Luchas had lain, there was no robe, no cane, no prosthesis. There was no frozen body, no face or hands or foot. There was not a torso or a lower body.
Gone, gone, gone.
In the place of his brother, there was a precise outline of the position Luchas had died in, the exact contours of the limbs and the head and the robe represented in a bare spot with no snow or pine needles, even.
Just bald dirt.
Qhuinn extended his trembling hand over the place where the immolation had occurred. Curls of smoke rose up, riding currents of heat that dissipated quickly.
Until it was all stone cold.
Blay had never seen anything like it. V’s glowing hand had extended downward, and then a nuclear-bright flash had lanced through the night, so intense and far-reaching that the entire mountain had lit up like noontime. Or at least that was what it had seemed. And in the aftermath? It was an artist’s drawing of the body’s position on a strip of barren, snowless ground, wisps of smoke rising for a moment.
Followed by only dark stillness.
It was as if the whole world had stopped spinning: No movement among the forest fauna, no deer careful-footing it through the leafless underbrush or owls calling to each other. No snaps of sticks or quiet moans of a breeze through pine branches. Certainly nothing from the Brothers and fighters, who were as statues in and among the trees.
Meanwhile, Qhuinn was fixated on where his brother had been, his big body shuddering. Then the labored breathing came next, heavy, loud. Finally, the male rolled off to the side and propped himself up on bowed arms. The retching went on and on, but nothing came up and out of his throat.
With utter helplessness, Blay stayed beside his mate, his hand on that heaving back, his own eyes watering. As all that pent-up emotion was released, Blay kept looking back and forth between the bare spot and his one true love.
And then, when there was finally an easing of the pain to his bereaved male, he spoke up.
“Come on, let’s go back inside. It’s cold out here.”
As he helped Qhuinn to his feet, he wasn’t sure the guy had any clue where he was. Like a zombie, Qhuinn allowed himself to be led away from where his brother had died, his sneakers taking the path they had forged out here into the forest, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes focused in front of him. There was no telling what was going through his mind.
No, that was a lie.
Blay could guess and all of it was bad.
And that was why he was so compelled to get his mate back inside. There was nothing he could do to help with the maelstrom in Qhuinn’s heart and head, but at least he could get him warm and dry.
As they came up to the Tahoe, V materialized in their path from out of thin air and nodded to the SUV. Blay shook his head. Like the Brother had said, they were only a hundred yards out. That was