Tohr winced. He’d done such a head job on that poor kid. Sure, he’d been incapable of doing anything else, but John had suffered a lot.
Suffered still.
Tohr was ashamed of himself as he thought of his waking up in that bed each morning and every afternoon, John bringing that tray in and sitting while the food was eaten-then staying, as if the kid knew that he was throwing up most of whatever had been served as soon as he was alone.
John had had to deal with Wellsie’s death by himself. Go through his transition by himself. Cross however many first times by himself.
Tohr sat down on V and Butch’s couch. The thing felt surprisingly sturdy, more so than he remembered. Putting his palms on the cushions, he pushed.
“It was reinforced while you were gone,” Wrath said quietly.
There was a long period of quiet, the question Wrath wanted to ask hovering in the air as loud as the echo of clanging bells in a private chapel.
Tohr cleared his throat. The only person he could have talked to about what was on his mind was Darius, but the brother was dead and gone. Wrath was the next person he was closest to though…
“It was…” Tohr crossed his arms over his chest. “It went okay. She stood behind me.”
Wrath nodded slowly. “Good idea.”
“Hers.”
“Selena’s tight. Kind.”
“I’m not sure how long it’s going to take,” Tohr said, not wanting to even talk about the female. “You know, until I’m ready to fight. I’m going to have to spar some. Hit the shooting range. Physically? No clue how my body’s going to rebound.”
“Don’t worry about time. Just get yourself healthy.”
Tohr looked down at his hands and curled up a pair of fists. There was no meat on the bones at all, so his knuckles poked through the skin like a relief map of the Adirondacks, nothing but jagged peaks and hollow valleys.
It was going to be a long trip back, he thought. And even once he was physically strong, his mental deck of cards was still missing all of its aces. No matter how much he weighed or how well he fought, nothing was going to change that.
There was a sharp knock and he shut his eyes, praying it wasn’t one of his brothers. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of returning to the land of living.
Yay. Rah. Whoo. Hoo.
“What’s doing, Qhuinn?” the king asked.
“We found John. Kinda.”
Tohr’s lids popped wide and he shifted around, frowning up at the kid in the doorway. Before Wrath could speak, Tohr said, “Was he missing?”
Qhuinn seemed surprised to see him up and about, but the guy gathered himself quickly as Wrath demanded, “Why wasn’t I told he was gone?”
“I didn’t know he was.” Qhuinn came in, and the redhead from the training classes, Blay, was with him. “He told both of us he was off rotation and going to crash out. We took him at his word, and before you fist my balls, I stayed in my room the entire time because I thought he was in his. As soon as I realized he wasn’t there, we went in search of him.”
Wrath cursed under his breath, then cut off Qhuinn’s apology. “Nah, it’s cool, son. You didn’t know. Nothing you could do. Where the fuck is he?”
Tohr didn’t hear the answer for the roar in his head. John out in Caldwell alone? Gone without telling anyone? What if something had happened?
He cut through the conversation. “Wait, where is he?”
Qhuinn held up his phone. “He won’t say. His text is just that he’s safe, wherever he is, and he’ll meet us out tomorrow night.”
“When’s he coming home?” Tohr demanded.
“I guess”-Qhuinn shrugged-“he’s not.”
THIRTY-SIX
Rehvenge’s mother passed unto the Fade at eleven eleven a.m.
She was surrounded by her son and her daughter and her sleeping granddaughter and her fierce son-in-law and attended by her beloved doggen.
It was a good death. A very good death. She closed her eyes, and an hour later she gasped twice and let out one long exhale, as if her body were sighing in relief as her soul flew free of its corporeal cage. And it was strange…Nalla woke up at that moment and the young focused not on her granhmen, but above the bed. Her little chubby hands reached high, and she smiled and cooed as if someone had just stroked her cheek.
Rehv stared down at the body. His mother had always believed she would be reborn unto the Fade, the roots of her faith planted in the rich soil of her Chosen upbringing. He hoped that was true. He wanted to believe she lived on somewhere.
It was the only thing that eased the pain in his chest even slightly.
As the doggen began crying softly, Bella embraced her daughter and Zsadist. Rehv stayed apart from them, sitting alone on the foot of the bed and watching the color drain out of their mother’s face.