Sheknewbefore she knew. Shefeltbefore she saw.
There Qhuinn was, taller than all the humans around him, but standing out for so much more than that height. Like there was anybody else in the club with spiked black hair, piercings on his face and ears, and an expression that made clear a decision to get in his path was going to be a mortal one?
Breaking out of her own lineup, Lyric rushed forward, high-stepping over the golden rope that cordoned off the riser and then jumping down. She almost lost a stiletto as she broke into all the people snaking down the aisle between the sunken seating areas, the collective gasping and flashes from camera phones disorientating her as hands with painted nails reached out for her arms, and women tried for selfies that were going to show just a blur of her.
Marcia hollered something, but that was in the background.
All Lyric cared about was getting to her—
“Father!” she whispered as suddenly Qhuinn was in front of her.
Jumping up, she hugged him hard enough to squeeze the breath out of a lesser male’s chest, but it didn’t matter. Her blooded sire was as he had always been, an absolute pillar, unbending, unrelenting. A superhero.
“Are you okay,” he said in a low voice.
She held on even harder. “I am now.”
As more pictures were taken, Lyric just lowered her face into his broad shoulder. The smell of leather, gunmetal, and the aftershave he always wore was the security blanket she needed. It was as if all the years he had ever been there for her coalesced into a tangible energy source that reinflated her with strength.
Sometimes a girl just needed her dad.
Shuli re-formed in the alley next to Bathe at the exact time Rhampage, Lyric’s fraternal twin, did the same. The other male was likewise dressed for the war, his black hair messed up out of its expensive cut, his handsome-as-a-devil face screwed down tight with stress, all kinds of black leather hiding all kinds of weapons. Given the lack of baby powder scent floating over on the cold breeze, the guy hadn’t found any of the enemy in the territory he’d covered yet—
Fuck.
Shuli immediately holstered his knife and gun and started paddling his puss with his palms.
His face was covered with that slayer shit.
“Here.”
He took what was offered without looking, without asking—and pulled up when the thing was damp and smelled like grandma perfume. “Baby wipe?”
“Sometimes you need a moist towelette.” The male did a well-duh in Shuli’s direction. “Are you here for Lyric?”
Shuli started scrubbing and spoke through the godsend. “I saw the video. Don’t wait for me—”
“How is it we’re in the field and she’s the one who nearly gets killed tonight?”
All Shuli could do was shake his head. Then again, he felt like shitting his pants every time he thought about the near miss.
“Don’t wait on me,” he repeated as he started to work on his jacket.
There was the hiss of a vape and then a white cloud the size of a car came out of the guy’s piehole. As Rhamp brought things up for a second inhale, his hand was visibly shaking.
“I don’t want her to see me all—” He took another hit and exhaled again. “You know.”
Shuli wadded up the wipe and shoved it in the ass pocket of his leathers. “I think she’d be offended if you weren’t fucked in the head.”
Rhamp grunted as they both went for the steel emergency door. “It’s that meet and greet, remember—”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Hold up.” Rhamp froze. “Where’s L.W.?”
As the guy looked around—because, sure, it was totally possible to miss something as big and pissed off as “Little” Wrath—Shuli rolled his eyes and yanked the exit open.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
