Lover Mine(42)

Qhuinn wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "For fuck's sake, John! You think I don't want to find her? You think I don't give a shit? Christ, I've been out every night with you, looking, searching, praying for a break." He pointed his finger straight out. "So get this straight. The pair of us getting busted with a leaking lesser by a bunch of humans is not going to help us. You want to tell Wrath how you rolled with that one? I don't. And if you ever put a gun in my face again, I will fuck you up no matter what my job is."

John didn't trust himself to respond. One thing was clear, though--if he didn't have the hope of something turning up at Benloise's St. Francis place, he would have been tearing shit up no matter who tried to stop him, Shadow or otherwise.

"Are you hearing me?" Qhuinn demanded. "Am I clear to you?"

John paced around, hands on his hips, head down low. As his temper started to cool, the logical side of him knew his buddy was right. He was also very aware he'd temporarily lost his damn mind in that shed. Had he really put a forty in his friend's puss?

His sudden clarity made him sick to his stomach.

If he didn't stitch it up here, he was going to have more problems than a missing female. He was going to end up dead, either because he was sloppy in combat or because Wrath gave him a serious case of boot-up-the-ass-itis.

He looked over at Qhuinn. Man, the hard expression on that pierced face was right close to an edge a friendship couldn't go back from--the kind of thing that didn't have to do with Qhuinn being a tough guy, but rather John being the kind of asshole no one wanted to hang out with.

He walked up to the male and wasn't surprised when Qhuinn held his ground in spite of the throw-down in the car. When he stuck his hand out, there was a long pause.

"I'm not the enemy, John."

John nodded, focusing on that tattooed tear beneath the guy's eye. Retracting his palm, he signed, I know that. I just . . . I need to find her. And what if that slayer was the way?

"Maybe he was--but the sitch got critical and you're going to have to choose yourself over her sometimes. Because if you don't, there's no way you're ever going to find out what happened. You can't search for her from inside a coffin."

He couldn't find a way to argue with that.

"So listen up, you crazy fuck, we're in this together," Qhuinn said softly. "And I'm here to make sure you don't wake up dead. I get the drive, I do. But you've got to work with me."

I'm going to kill Lash, John signed in a rush. I'm going to hold his throat in my hands and I'm going to stare into his eyes as he dies. I don't care how much it costs me . . . but his ashes will be sprinkled on her grave. I swear on . . .

What did he have to swear on? Not his father. Not his mother.

. . . I swear on my own life.

Anyone else might have tried to placate him with a shitload of have-faith, you-gotta-believe crap. But Qhuinn clapped him on the shoulder. "Have I told you how much I love you lately?"

Every night you come out with me to help find her.

"It's not because of the fucking job."

This time when John put his palm out, his friend used it to pull them into a hard embrace. Then Qhuinn shoved him away and checked the watch on his wrist. "We should head over to St. Francis Avenue."

"You got ten minutes." Trez put his arm around the guy and started walking for the back door into the kitchen. "Let's get you two cleaned up. You can leave the Hummer in our receiving dock and I'll switch the plates for you while you're gone."

Qhuinn looked over at Trez. "That's really fucking nice of you."

"Yeah, I'm a prince, all right. And to prove it, I'll even tell you all I know about Benloise."

As John followed them inside, the fact that he hadn't gotten anything out of the slayer focused him, steeled him, resolved him further.

Lash wasn't going to leave Caldwell. He couldn't. As long as he was head of the Lessening Society, he was going to go toe-to-toe with the Brotherhood, and the Brothers weren't budging from the city--the Tomb was here. So although the civilian vampires had scattered, Caldie remained the focal point of the war because there would be no winning for the enemy if the Brothers still breathed.

Sooner or later, Lash was going to slip up and John was going to be there.

But goddamn the waiting could wear a guy out, it really could. Every dragging night with nothing new and nothing really to go on . . . was a forever in hell.





FOURTEEN





When Lash finally released Mr. D's vein, he pushed him away like a dirty plate after a meal. Sagging on the counter, he reveled in the fact that his hunger was sated and that his body seemed stronger already. But now he was logy as fuck, which was what always happened after he fed.

He'd been taking Xhex's throat periodically just for kicks and giggles, but that clearly wasn't what he needed to fill his gut.