You must miss him. John glanced away, like he knew it was pushing it.
Made sense. Blay had always shut down any conversation about his relationship, diverting talk to other subjects.
“Yeah.”
So how’s Qhuinn holding up? I didn’t want to intrude, but…
Blay could only shrug again. “He’s been in there awhile. I’m taking that as good news.”
And Luchas is going to make it?
“Time will tell, but at least they got him patched up.” Blay took out his Dunhills and lit up, exhaling slowly. When there was nothing but an awkward silence, he said, “Listen, I’m sorry if I’m being weird.”
The truth was, that bite mark was a reminder of what was going to have to happen for him, and he really didn’t need that so front-and-center.
Qhuinn’s voice barged into his head: We could go together.
What the hell had he agreed to?
You’re stressed, John signed as he focused on the door. We’re all stressed. Everything is…stressful.
Blay frowned as the guy’s mood registered. “Hey, are you okay?”
After a moment, John signed, The strangest thing happened the other night. Wrath called me into his office and told me that Qhuinn was no longer my ahstrux nohtrum. I mean, that’s fine, that’s cool—it’s actually uncomplicated things a lot. But Qhuinn never said anything to me, and I don’t know if I should say something to him? I also didn’t know that was possible. I mean, when it started, it was like, “Your pink slip is a double-tap, and that’s that,” you know? Did he just quit? Is it because of the Layla thing? I thought they weren’t getting mated.
Blay exhaled a curse, the smoke curling up over his head. “I have no clue.”
Shit, that mating thing probably should have occurred to him—and maybe that was why Qhuinn had jumped out of range when V had appeared.
Could Qhuinn and Layla be getting hitched now that the young was okay—
The door swung wide, and Qhuinn came out, looking like he’d been kicked in the head. “Oh, hey, John, whassup.”
As the two clapped each other on the shoulder, Qhuinn glanced over, but then carried on with a back-and-forth with John.
And then he and Qhuinn were alone after John left a moment later.
“Are you okay?” Qhuinn said.
Clearly, the question of the hour, wasn’t it.
“Actually, I’m going to ask you that. How’s Luchas?” Blay pulled a V and stubbed his cigarette out on the tread of his shitkicker.
Before Qhuinn could answer, Selena came out of the office, as if she had been summoned from the main house. The Chosen walked toward them gracefully, but with purpose, her traditional white robing flowing around her legs.
“Greetings, sires,” she said as she approached. “Dr. Jane indicated that I was required?”
As Blay exhaled, he felt like punching himself. This was the last thing he—
“Yeah, both of us,” Qhuinn answered.
Blay closed his eyes as a sudden surge rocked him. The idea of watching Qhuinn feed was like a drug in his bloodstream, loosening him up and threatening to get him hard. But really, it wasn’t—
“Down the hall would be great,” Qhuinn murmured.
Well, it was better than a bedroom. Right? More professional, yes?
And he did need the feeding—and Qhuinn no doubt had to as well after all the drama.
Blay ditched his cigarette butt into a trash can and brought up the rear as Qhuinn led the way. Going along, he didn’t track the Chosen’s movements. Nope, not in the slightest. His eyes were glued to Qhuinn’s, from those shoulders, to those hips…to that ass….
Okay, this was going to stop. Right now.
He just needed to pull himself together, do the feeding, and make an excuse to get gone.
Maybe this plan would be one that actually worked?
In through a doorway. Conversation. Polite smiling, even though he didn’t know what had been asked or answered of him.
Ah, one of the hospital rooms, he realized. This was really good—a clinical environment. Just take the vein and move along, with one biological function not necessarily leading to another—
“I’m sorry?” the Chosen said, looking at him with an open face.
Great. He’d been loose-lipping it, but there was no telling how much he’d shared.
“I’m sorry,” he said smoothly. “I’m just hungry as all get-out.”
“In that case, would you like to be first?” Selena asked.
“Yeah, he would,” Qhuinn replied as he settled back against the door.
Well, there you go, Blay thought. Everything was settled. When Qhuinn started? He was going to leave.
Stepping forward, he wondered how this was going to work precisely, but Selena solved that one by drawing up a chair and sitting by the hospital bed. Roger that—Blay hopped up on the mattress, his weight displacing the pillow from the slightly raised head, the springs creaking. And then his mind shut down, which was a relief. As Selena stretched out her arm and drew her white sleeve back, his hunger came to the forefront, his fangs dropping down from his upper jaw, his breath deepening.