if she’s pregnant. For me? I honestly wish you both well. But you don’t owe me any explanations—and what’s more, I don’t require them. I’ve moved on from childish crushes—and that’s what I had for you. Back then, it was just an infatuation, Qhuinn. So please take care of your female, and don’t worry that I’m slitting my wrists because you’ve found someone to love. As I have.”
“I told you. I’m not in love with her.”
Wait for it, Blay thought to himself. Because it’s coming.
This was classic Qhuinn, right here.
The male was incredible in the field. And loyal to the point of psychosis. And smart. And sexual to distraction. And a hundred thousand other things that Blay had to admit nobody else came close to. But he had one serious defect, and it wasn’t his eye color.
He couldn’t handle emotion.
At all.
Qhuinn had always run from anything deep—even if he didn’t move. He could sit right in front of you and nod and talk, but when the emotions got strong for him, he would leave the inside of his skin. Just check right out. And if you tried to force him to confront them?
Well, that wasn’t possible. No one forced Qhuinn to do anything.
And yeah, sure, there were a lot of good reasons for the way he was. His family treating him like a curse. The
glymera
looking down on him. Him having been rootless all his life. But whatever the stressors, at the end of the day, the male was going to run from anything that was too complicated, or required something from him.
Probably the only thing that could change that was a young.
So no matter what he said now, there was no doubt he was in love with Layla, but having been through the needing with her, and now waiting for the results, he was losing his mind from worry and pulling away from her.
And therefore standing here at the side of the road, blabbering about things that made no damned sense.
“I wish you both the very best,” Blay said, his heart hammering in his chest. “I honestly do. I really hope this works out well for both of you.”
In the tense quiet, Blay pulled himself out of the hole he’d once again fallen into, clawing his way back to the surface, away from the painful, burning agony at the center of his soul.
“Now, can we get in the truck and finish our job?” he said evenly.
Qhuinn’s hands lifted briefly to his face. Then he ducked his head, shoved those bleeding knuckles into the pockets of his leathers, and started back for the flatbed.
“Yeah. Let’s do that.”
SIX
“O h, my God, I’m going to come—I’m going to come—”
Farther south, in downtown Caldwell, in the parking lot behind the Iron Mask, Trez Latimer was happy to hear the newsflash—and not surprised. But nobody else in the tricounty area needed the update.
As he worked himself in and out of the very willing participant underneath his body, he shut her up by kissing her hard, his tongue entering that hot mouth, all that unnecessary commentary getting cut off.
The car they were in was cramped and smelled like the woman’s perfume: sweet and spicy and cheap—shit, next time he was going to pick a volunteer with an SUV or, better yet, a Mercedes S550 with some proper space in the back.
Clearly, this Nissan product had not been built to house two seventy-five fucking the brains out of a half-naked dental assistant. Or had she been a paralegal?
He couldn’t remember.
And he had more immediate issues to worry about. With an abrupt shift, he broke off the liplock because the closer he got to hisown release, the farther his fangs extended from his upper jaw—and he didn’t want to nick her by mistake: The taste of fresh blood would pitch him right over another more dangerous kind of edge, and he wasn’t sure that feeding from her was a good idea—
Scratch that.
It was a bad idea. And not because she was just a human.
Someone was watching them.
Lifting his head, he looked out of the backseat window. As a Shadow, his eyes were three
“I told you. I’m not in love with her.”
Wait for it, Blay thought to himself. Because it’s coming.
This was classic Qhuinn, right here.
The male was incredible in the field. And loyal to the point of psychosis. And smart. And sexual to distraction. And a hundred thousand other things that Blay had to admit nobody else came close to. But he had one serious defect, and it wasn’t his eye color.
He couldn’t handle emotion.
At all.
Qhuinn had always run from anything deep—even if he didn’t move. He could sit right in front of you and nod and talk, but when the emotions got strong for him, he would leave the inside of his skin. Just check right out. And if you tried to force him to confront them?
Well, that wasn’t possible. No one forced Qhuinn to do anything.
And yeah, sure, there were a lot of good reasons for the way he was. His family treating him like a curse. The
glymera
looking down on him. Him having been rootless all his life. But whatever the stressors, at the end of the day, the male was going to run from anything that was too complicated, or required something from him.
Probably the only thing that could change that was a young.
So no matter what he said now, there was no doubt he was in love with Layla, but having been through the needing with her, and now waiting for the results, he was losing his mind from worry and pulling away from her.
And therefore standing here at the side of the road, blabbering about things that made no damned sense.
“I wish you both the very best,” Blay said, his heart hammering in his chest. “I honestly do. I really hope this works out well for both of you.”
In the tense quiet, Blay pulled himself out of the hole he’d once again fallen into, clawing his way back to the surface, away from the painful, burning agony at the center of his soul.
“Now, can we get in the truck and finish our job?” he said evenly.
Qhuinn’s hands lifted briefly to his face. Then he ducked his head, shoved those bleeding knuckles into the pockets of his leathers, and started back for the flatbed.
“Yeah. Let’s do that.”
SIX
“O h, my God, I’m going to come—I’m going to come—”
Farther south, in downtown Caldwell, in the parking lot behind the Iron Mask, Trez Latimer was happy to hear the newsflash—and not surprised. But nobody else in the tricounty area needed the update.
As he worked himself in and out of the very willing participant underneath his body, he shut her up by kissing her hard, his tongue entering that hot mouth, all that unnecessary commentary getting cut off.
The car they were in was cramped and smelled like the woman’s perfume: sweet and spicy and cheap—shit, next time he was going to pick a volunteer with an SUV or, better yet, a Mercedes S550 with some proper space in the back.
Clearly, this Nissan product had not been built to house two seventy-five fucking the brains out of a half-naked dental assistant. Or had she been a paralegal?
He couldn’t remember.
And he had more immediate issues to worry about. With an abrupt shift, he broke off the liplock because the closer he got to hisown release, the farther his fangs extended from his upper jaw—and he didn’t want to nick her by mistake: The taste of fresh blood would pitch him right over another more dangerous kind of edge, and he wasn’t sure that feeding from her was a good idea—
Scratch that.
It was a bad idea. And not because she was just a human.
Someone was watching them.
Lifting his head, he looked out of the backseat window. As a Shadow, his eyes were three
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