Lover At Last(144)

The female’s eyes flared, and this time when she walked off, there was no exaggeration to her hips, no check-me-out toss of the hair over the shoulder. Clearly the we’re-not-fucking-around message had been received, and she wanted whoever her mate was to live through the night.

In the wait that followed, Qhuinn kept his gun in his palm, his eyes on the room, his hearing fine-tuned for something, anything out of order.

Nothing.

Which suggested their host and hostess had followed orders—

A strange prickling unease tickled its way up his spine, causing him to frown and go from high alert to DEFCON I. On the far side of the fireplace, John seemed to catch the same gist, his gun lifting, his eyes narrowing.

And then a cold mist hit Qhuinn’s ankles.

“I’ve asked a couple of special guests to join us,” Rehv said dryly.

At that moment, two columns of haze pulled up from the floor, the disturbance of air molecules finding forms…that Qhuinn instantly recognized.

Thank fuck.

With Payne out of commission for whatever reason, he’d been feeling like they were a little light on coverage, even recognizing the skills in the Brotherhood. But as Trez and iAm appeared, he took a deep breath.

Now that was a pair of straight-up killers, the kind of thing you really didn’t want against you in any kind of fight. The good news was that Rehvenge had long been aligned with the Shadows, and Rehv’s connection with the Brotherhood and the king meant that the two brothers were obviously willing to come and play a little backup.

Qhuinn stepped up to say hello to the pair, greeting them as the others did with a palm join, a quick pull, and a clap on the back. “Hey, my man…”

“What’s doing…”

“How you been…”

After the hi-how’re-yas were done, Trez glanced around. “Okay, so we’re just going to stay outta sight unless you need us. But rest assured, we’re here.”

After a course of thank-yous from the Brothers, Rehv said a couple of private words to the Shadows…and then the two were gone, misting out of their forms and seething around the floors, that cold draft now a reassurance.

Perfect timing. Less than a minute later, the hostess came back with a diminutive older male at her side. Given the way vampires aged, with a rapid acceleration of physical decline toward the end of the life span, Qhuinn guessed the guy had five years left. Ten at the very most.

Some introductions were made, but Qhuinn didn’t care about that shit. He was more worried about whether the rest of the house was empty.

“Any doggen here?” Rehv demanded as the female settled her geezer into one of the dining chairs.

“As you have requested, they are all gone for this part of the evening.”

V nodded to Phury and Z. “The three of us’ll search the premises. See if that’s right.”



Even though Blay trusted himself, the Brotherhood, and John Matthew, and Qhuinn, he felt a lot better knowing the Shadows were around. Trez and iAm were not just awesome fighters, and inherently dangerous to anyone they declared an enemy; they had a striking advantage over the Brotherhood.

Invisibility.

He wasn’t sure whether they could actually engage while in that state, but it didn’t matter. Anyone who broke in here—like, say, the Band of fucking Bastards—would make an engagement assessment that included only the visible hard bodies in the room.

Not those two brothers.

So this was good.

At that moment, V returned with Phury and Z from their walk-around—and Butch was with them, suggesting the Brother had just arrived via car. “Clear.”

There was a brief pause. And then, as prearranged, Tohr went to the front door and opened the way in for Wrath.

Showtime, Blay thought, his eyes flicking in Qhuinn’s direction before he snapped himself back into focus.

Tohr and the king entered the dining room side by side, their heads together as if they were in deep conversation about something important, the Brother’s hand on Wrath’s forearm like the guy was trying to drive some point home.

It was all an act for the host and hostess.

Tohr was, in fact, leading Wrath by that hold on the arm, taking him over to the fireplace, positioning him right in the middle of the mantelpiece. And that conversation? It was about where the two aristocratic hosts were sitting, where the chairs were aligned, where the Brothers and the fighters were—and the two Shadows as well.

While Wrath nodded, the king deliberately moved his head around as if his keen eyes were taking the details of the room in. And then he acknowledged the host and hostess as they were brought forward to kiss his huge black diamond ring.

After that, the crème de la crème of the glymera began to arrive.