"Fine, fine. Be that way." Blay reached over for the antiseptic, put some on his chest, then covered the wound with gauze, which he taped in place. "Will you take care of covering up the one in back?"
"Yeah."
As he hit the raw patch with some gauze, Qhuinn imagined someone touching Blay's skin... running their hands over him, easing the kind of ache a male got between his thighs.
"One thing, though," Qhuinn murmured.
"What?"
The voice that came out of his throat was unlike anything he'd ever heard from himself before. "If any guy breaks your heart or treats you like shit, I will bust him apart with my bare hands and leave his broken, bloody body for the sun."
Blay's laughter rumbled around the tiled walls. "Of course you will - "
"I'm dead f**king serious."
Blay's blue eyes shot over his shoulder.
"If there are any who dare to hurt you," Qhuinn growled in the Old Language, "I shall see them staked afore me and shall leave their bodies in ruin."
At his great camp in the Adirondacks, Rehvenge was desperately trying to get warm. Bundled in a thick terry cloth robe, with a mink blanket over his body, he was stretched out on a couch a mere five feet from the flames of a crackling fire.
The room was among his favorites in the huge, barny house, its grumpy Victorian décor of garnet and gold and deep blue often suiting his mood. Funny, he'd always thought a dog would look good by the massive stone fireplace. A retriever of some sort. God, maybe he would get a dog. Bella had always liked dogs. Their mother hadn't, though, so there had never been one in the family house in Caldwell.
Rehv frowned and thought of his mother, who was staying at another of the family homes about a hundred and fifty miles away. She hadn't recovered yet from Bella's abduction. Probably never would. Even all these months later, she didn't want to leave the country, although given the state of Caldwell, that wasn't a bad thing.
She was going to die in the house she was in now, he thought. Likely within the next couple years. Old age was upon her, her biological clock starting to race to the finish line, her hair already having gone white.
"Got more wood," Trez said as he came in with an arm-load of logs. The Moor went over to the fireplace, moved the screen out of the way, and stoked the blaze until it roared even brighter.
Which was pretty whacked for August.
Ah, but this was August in the Adirondacks. Plus he was double-loaded on dopamine, so he had about the same sensory perception and core temperature as petrified wood.
Trez put the screen back in place and looked over his shoulder. "Your lips are blue. You want me to make you some coffee?"
"You're a bodyguard, not a butler."
"And we've got how many people standing around here with silver trays?"
"I can get it." Rehv went to sit up, and his stomach lurched. "Fuck."
"Lie back down before I knock you out."
As the guy left, Rehv resettled against the cushions, hating the aftermath of what he did to the Princess. Hating it. He just wanted to forget the whole thing, at least until next month. Unfortunately, the shit was on an endless play loop in his head. He saw what he'd done in that cabin tonight over and over again, saw himself jerk off to seduce the Princess and then f**k her at that windowsill.
Variations on that perversion had been his sex life for how long now? Shit...
He wondered briefly what it would be like to have someone he cared about but he shelved that fantasy pretty damn quick. The only way he could have sex was if he was off his meds - so the only person he could be with was a symphath , and there was no way in hell he was going to warm up to one of those females. Sure, he and Xhex had tried it out, but that had been a disaster on a lot of levels.
A coffee mug was shoved under his nose. "Drink this."
Reaching for the thing, he said, "Thanks - "
"Oh, shit, check you out."
Rehv quickly switched hands, tucking his bad forearm back under the blankets. "Like I said, thank you."
"So that's why Xhex made you go to the clinic, huh." Trez parked it in an oxblood club chair. "And, no, I won't be holding my breath for a confirm on that. I'll just take it as self-evident."
As Trez crossed his legs, he looked like a perfect gentleman, a real example of royalty: In spite of the fact that he was wearing black cargo pants, combat boots, and a muscle shirt - and was fully capable of tearing a male's head off and using it as a soccer ball - you'd have sworn he was just one visit to the closet away from ermine robes and a crown.
Which, actually, just happened to be true.
"Good coffee," Rehv murmured.
"Just don't ask me to bake. How's the antivenom doing?"
"Jim-dandy."
"So your stomach's still off."
"You should be a symphath."
"I work with two of them. That's close enough, f**k you very much."
Rehv smiled and took another monster drag from the mug's lip. The lining of his mouth was probably getting burned given how much steam was rising from what was inside, but he didn't feel a thing.
On the other hand, he was all too conscious of Trez's unwavering black stare. Which meant the Moor was about to say something Rehv wasn't going to like. As opposed to most people, when the guy told you what you didn't want to hear, he looked right into you.
Rehv rolled his eyes. "Just get it over with, why don't you."
"You're worse each time you're with her."
True. Back when it started, he could be with the Princess and go back to work right away. After a couple years had passed, he'd needed a quick lie-down. Then a nap for a couple of hours. Now he was on his ass for a good twenty-four hours. Thing was, he was developing an allergic reaction to the venom. Sure, the antivenom serum Trez pumped into him afterward kept him from going into shock, but he wasn't recovering well anymore.
Maybe one day he wouldn't recover at all.
As he considered the number of medications he needed to have regularly, he thought, Shit, better living through chemistry. Kind of.
Trez was still looking at him, so he took another drink and said, "Quitting with her is not an option."
"You could blow out of Caldwell, though. Find another place to live. If she doesn't know how to find you, she can't turn you in."
"If I leave town, she'd just go after my mother. Who won't relocate because of Bella and the young."
"This is going to kill you."
"She's too addicted to risk that, though."
"Then you need to tell her to cut the shit with that scorpion rubdown she gives herself. I understand your wanting to look strong, but she's going to be f**king a cadaver if she doesn't give that up."
"Knowing her, necrophilia would be a turn-on."
Behind Trez, a lovely glow pierced the horizon.
"Oh, shit, is it that late," Rehv said, diving for the remote that closed the steel shutters on the house.
Except it wasn't the sun. At least, not the sun that pin-wheeled in the sky.
A figure of light was coming up the lawn toward the house, walking with a saunter.
There was only one thing that Rehv could think of that could get that effect.
"Fan-fucking-tastic," he muttered, sitting up. "Man, is this night over yet?"
Trez was already on his feet. "You want me to let him in?"
"Might as well. He'd just walk through the glass anyway. "
The Moor slid one of the doors back and stood to the side as Lassiter came into the den. The guy's gliding walk was the physical manifestation of a drawl, all smooth and slow and insolent.
"Long time, no see," the angel said.
"Not long enough."
"Always with the hospitality."
"Listen, GE," Rehv blinked hard. "Mind if you dim your disco ball?"
The brillant glow drifted away until Lassiter appeared normal. Well, normal for someone with a serious-ass piercing fetish and aspirations for being some country's gold currency standard.
Trez shut the door and stood behind it, a wall of youfuck -with-my-boy-and-angel-or-not-ima-show-your-ass-a-beatdown.
"What brings you onto my property?" Rehv said, cradling his mug with both hands and trying to absorb its warmth.
"Got a problem."
"I can't fix your personality, sorry."
Lassiter laughed, the sound ringing through the house like church bells. "No. I like myself just as I am, thank you."