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“I’ll have my phone.”
He pictured her glancing at her mate—and remembered what the female had looked like before his eyes had failed him entirely. Xhex had always been a tough piece of work, and Rehv had used her as an enforcer and his head of security when he’d been in the club and drug racket. After he’d stepped away, she’d gone to work for Trez, who’d taken over all the businesses.
Wrath could imagine what she’d done to those males.
Frankly, he was surprised there was anything left over.
“We’re going to take off now,” she said. “You’re busy.”
“Never too busy for you. Or him.”
“Thank you,” came the choked reply.
He wasn’t surprised when the pair of them left quickly. They were clearly hanging by a thread. He also wasn’t surprised when Rehv stayed behind.
“What the fuck is going on with her,” Wrath demanded of the king of allsymphaths. “And how can we help.”
As Xhex bolted out of the dining room, she was dizzy and disoriented. Neither was a surprise. Standing in front of the Great Blind King, laying out her shit, with a duffle full of deadly guns and knives—and herlys—between them, she felt like everything that had started back in the spring had come to a head.
For the hundredth time, she relived that vivid memory of Rehv in the billiards room of the Black Dagger Brotherhood mansion, telling her that her grid was collapsing, that she was in trouble, that she needed help. If she hadn’t fought him then, maybe…
It doesn’t matter now—
John stepped in front of her. As he started tosign something, she did the best she could to track the positions of his fingers and his hands, but she couldn’t follow any of it. She was still back in that elegant, if rather empty, room, staring at the last purebred vampire on the planet. Sitting on that otherwise run-of-the-mill antique armchair, Wrath had been an overwhelming presence, one that turned any piece of furniture into a throne. With his waist-length black hair falling from a widow’s peak, and his cruel, intelligent face zeroing in on her as if he could see, he was the force to be reckoned with that he always was—and she’d been tongue-tied as soon as she’d entered his audience room.
Yet she could feel the respect he had for her. Under the hard surface, there was an even harder core—but he liked her, and she had the sense that he wanted to do what he could for her.
He would bend nothing in her favor, however.
Xhex looked over her shoulder at the closed doors. Rehv was still in there, and she imagined they were talking about what the investigation was going to entail. She had some answers from her own digging, but considering everything else she didn’t know and all that she couldn’t trust in herself? Who the fuck knew what was going to come out of… anything.
She glanced at John. He’d lowered his hands and was staring at her with steady, intense eyes.
“I’m sorry about all this.”
He shook his head. Then mouthed,Nothing to be sorry for. And we stick together. I’m going to ask Tohr for some time off.
God, where were they going to go?she thought. They couldn’t crash in some Residence Inn—vampires, hello. Pulling drapes wasn’t safe enough during daylight hours. And she wasnotstaying in the mansion. She didn’t want to even go back for her clothes.
She couldn’t trust herself around those people—and their young. Especially the young.
Hell, she wasn’t sure she wanted John Matthew to stick with her. The only thing that reassured her on that front was that he could overpower her—but it wasn’t like she had a choice. He wasn’t giving her any input into his decision. When she’d suggested that, for safety, he stay at the mansion while she went off?
She hadn’t gotten even half the sentence out before a rock-solid fuck-no had come back at her. And when she’d tried to press it? He’d just asked her what she would do in his position.
So that had settled it—
As muffled voices registered, she glanced to the waiting room. There was no one in it, and she found herself wondering whether it was at the end of the night or not. She had no concept of time. Checking her watch, she was surprised it was just after midnight.
Early. But Rehv had cleared the place out for her.
Even the receptionist was gone.
Just as she pivoted toward the front door, Rehv came out of the audience hall, looming in his full-length mink duster. With his cropped mohawk and his black silk suit and black silk shirt, he cut a powerful figure as always.
Except those amethyst eyes were gentle as he looked at her. In response, all she could do was shake her head.
“You were right,” she said roughly. “I should have listened to you—”
