John glared at the guy. Not going anywhere.
Rhage smiled, his incredible beauty looking like something heaven sent. But that was just the external shit. Internally, he was straight from hell--in this situation. "Sorry, wrong answer."
I'm fine--
That piece-of-shit, motherfucker, cocksucking son of a bitch actually ducked forward, grabbed John on the wound, and squeezed the bullet's new home.
John screamed without making a sound and went down in a free fall, landing on the blood-soaked floor with a splash. Bringing up his leg, he tried to cradle his thigh, as if showing some belated TLC would convince the thing to calm down.
As it was, he felt like he had jagged glass jammed into his muscle.
"Was that really necessary?" Xhex demanded overhead.
Rhage's voice was no longer teasing. "You want to reason with him? Good luck. And if you think any slayer would do differently, you've got your head wedged. There's an obvious circular hole in the front of his leathers and he walks with a limp. Any half-wit asswipe's going to know what his weakness is. Plus he smells like fresh blood."
The rat bastard probably had a point, but Christ on a crutch . . .
It was entirely possible that John passed out from the pain, because next thing he knew, the self-proclaimed "piece of meat" was picking him up to carry him out of the house.
Yeah, whatever. That was a no-go. John shoved himself free of the guy's hold and tried to land without cursing or throwing up. With his mouth making up all kinds of fuck-oriented words, he limped past Butch, who was looking much better, and V, who'd lit up a hand-rolled.
He knew right where Xhex was: behind him, with her hand at his back like she knew he was wobbly and might go down at any minute.
Not a chance, though. Sheer grit got him to the Hummer and in the backseat on his own. Of course, by the time Qhuinn hit the gas, he had a cold sweat all over him and couldn't feel his hands or his feet.
"We did a body count," he heard Xhex say.
When he looked over, she was staring across the seat at him. Man . . . she was fucking beautiful in the distilled light from the dash up front. Her lean face had a smudge of black lesser blood on it, but her cheeks had high color and her eyes had a special sparkle to them. She'd gotten off on tonight, he thought. She'd enjoyed it.
Fuck him. She really was the perfect female.
And how many did we take out? he signed, trying to distract his inner nancy.
"Twelve of the sixteen new recruits as well as both of the slayers who came across the field with the ferret. Unfortunately, that new Fore-lesser was nowhere to be found--so we have to assume the little bastard bolted as soon as we infiltrated and took a handful of inductees with him. Oh, and Butch inhaled all of those downed except two."
At least one of which you dealt with.
"Actually both were mine." Her eyes held his. "Did that bother you? Seeing me . . . go to work like that?"
Her tone suggested she assumed it did and that she didn't blame him for feeling yucked-out. Except she was wrong.
Beating back the pain he was in, John shook his head and signed with floppy hands. It's an incredible power you have. If I looked shocked . . . it's because I'd never seen one of your kind in action before.
Her face tightened ever so slightly and she glanced out the window.
Tapping her on her arm, he signed, That was a compliment.
"Yeah, sorry . . . just the 'your kind' always throws me. I'm half-and-half, therefore I'm neither. I have no kind." She batted away her words with her hand. "Whatever. While you were passed out, V hacked into the Caldwell PD database with his phone. The police didn't find any IDs at the scene either, so we have nothing to go on except for that addy from the Civic's license plate. I'll bet that . . ."
As she continued talking, he let her words wash over him.
He knew all about that "no kind" thing.
Just one more way they were compatible.
Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer to anyone who was listening, asking please, for God's sake, stop sending him signals that they were right for each other. He'd read that book, seen the movie, bought the sound track, the DVD, the T-shirt, the mug, the bobble- head, and the insider's guide. He knew every reason they could have been lock and key.
But just as he was aware of all that aligned them, he was even clearer on how they were damned to be ever apart.
"Are you all right?"
Xhex's voice was soft and closer, and when he cracked his lids, she was practically in his lap. His eyes traced her face and her coiled, leather-bound body.
Pain and a sense that time was running out for them made him toss out his filter and say what was truly on his mind.
I want to be in you when we get back to the mansion, he signed. As soon as I get a bandage on this fucking leg of mine, I want in you.