Lover Reborn

trailed. He’d also called in V and Rhage to flank the BMW on a just-in-case.

Not that he’d told them it was the Bastards he was worried about. They had assumed it was lessers, and he’d let them go with that one.

And John wasn’t driving back to the compound—no reason to get anywhere near home base. Instead, they were going to head out into the ’burbs and go in circles, staying in the human-heavy neighborhoods until Layla had time enough to recover and dematerialize back to the mansion.

On that note, he glanced over at her. She was staring out the window beside her, her chest rising and falling way too fast.

But, yeah, finding out you’d helped the enemy—probably saved his life—was not the kind of thing anyone would handle well.

He leaned over and put his hand on her leg, giving it a squeeze. “It’s okay, baby girl.”

She didn’t turn her head to him. Just shook it. “How can you say that.”

“You didn’t know.”

“He stayed back in town. He didn’t follow us.”

Good to know. “You’ll let me know if that changes.”

“Absolutely.” Her voice was dead. “In a moment.”

Qhuinn cursed under his breath. “Layla. Look at me.” When she didn’t, he put his forefinger on her chin. “Hey, you didn’t know who he was.”

Layla closed her eyes, as if she wished she could return to whatever night she had met the guy and do everything over.

“Come here,” he said, pulling her into an embrace.

She came stiffly to him, and as he rubbed her back, the tension in her muscles was legion.

“What if the king turns me out?” she said into his pectoral. “What if Phury—”

“They won’t. They’ll understand.”

As she shuddered against him, he glanced up at John in the rearview mirror and shook his head at his best friend. Mouthing the words, he said silently, Let’s just drive her in. Xcor stayed back in town.

John cocked a brow, and then nodded.

After all, blood sense didn’t lie—although unfortunately, it was a sword that cut both ways. The good news was that the mhis V threw up around the compound would keep anyone on the outside from finding her—which was the reason Throe had been fed in the first place. And at least that connection with Layla was fading with every passing night, even with the Chosen’s blood being so pure.

“I’ve got nothing of my own,” Layla said roughly. “Nothing. Even my service can be taken away from me.”

“Shhh… ain’t going to happen. I won’t let it.”

Man, he prayed that wasn’t a lie. And they damn well had to tell the king and the Primale right away: Their first stop, after they took her to Doc Jane’s, was going to be Wrath’s study. Those two just had to understand where she’d been coming from—she’d been manipulated by the enemy, exploited like any other resource into doing something she never would have volunteered for in a million years.

He wished he’d killed Xcor when he’d had the chance…

A good thirty minutes later, John turned off onto the rear road to the training center, and it was another ten before they finally pulled into the parking garage.

The first clue something was off came when Qhuinn stepped out onto the curb: His skin tightened up in a rush, his blood heating to a boil in his veins for no good reason. And then he popped a giant, throbbing erection.

Frowning, he glanced around. And John did the same as the guy cracked his door and got out from behind the steering wheel.

There was… some kind of mojo working in the parking lot. What the fuck?

“Ah, right, okay, let’s get you to Doc Jane,” Qhuinn said as he took Layla’s elbow, and made sure the front of his hips was covered by the tails of his leather jacket.

“I’m fine. Honestly—”

“Then that’s just what the good doctor will tell—”

As John opened the door to the place and they all stepped inside, Qhuinn lost his train of thought as a wall of hormones smacked right into him. Looking down at his pelvis, he couldn’t believe he was suddenly about to orgasm.

“Someone’s in her needing,” Layla announced. “I don’t think you two should go in—”

Far down the hall, Doc Jane all but jumped out of one of the examination rooms. “You have to leave—Qhuinn and John, you’ve got to go—”

“Who’s—” Qhuinn had to close his eyes and slow his breathing down: The motion was causing his cock to rub against his button fly, threatening a messy explosion. “Who is—”

As some kind of wave intensified, he lost the ability to speak.

Fuck, it was like he’d just come through his transition and was surrounded by naked females in all-access positions.

“It’s Autumn,” Jane said, running toward them and ushering them back out into the parking lot. “Are you okay, Layla?”

“I’m fine—”

“She needs a quick physical,” Qhuinn mumbled as he turned for the Shadow’s car. “Just came close to passing out. Text me when you’re done, Layla, ’kay?”

John was walking like a scarecrow as well—stiffly and without any coordination. Then again, when you had a baseball bat in your pants, you were hardly going to Fred Astaire around.

As the heavy steel door shut them out, things got a little better, and by the time they had driven through the series of gates, short of a raging hard-on, he was feeling more rational.

“Jesus,” Qhuinn said. “Bottle that shit and the Viagra boys are out of business.”

Behind the wheel, John whistled an agreement.

As the guy drove them around the base of the mountain and approached the main house from the front, Qhuinn squirmed in his leathers.

He hadn’t done much sexually since… well, shit, almost a year ago, when he’d had some private time with that red-haired guy at the Iron Mask. After that, he hadn’t had much interest in anything or anyone, male or female. He didn’t even wake up hard anymore.

Hell, given the length of his dry spell, he’d begun to think that he’d just burned through his allotment of orgasms: Considering how much fucking he’d done after his transition, it sure as shit seemed possible.

But here he was, itching in his seat.

Next door, John was doing the same, moving this way and that. Jacking himself up, pushing back.

When the mansion finally made an appearance out of the mhis, Qhuinn dreaded going inside. There didn’t seem anything even remotely sexy or appealing about heading up to his room alone, jerking off once or twice, and then resuming his vigil in front of a dark TV screen.

I’ve got nothing of my own. Nothing. Even my service can be taken away from me.

Layla was so right about that: Although everyone made him welcome here, the bottom line was, he was allowed to hang because he served a purpose for John, as ahstrux nohtrum.

Like Layla, however, he could be fired.

And as for his future? He was certainly never going to be mated, because he wasn’t going to condemn some female to a loveless union, and he was never going to have any young—although, considering his mismatched eyes, maybe that was a good thing.

Bottom line, he was staring down the barrel of countless centuries with no real home, no true family, no blood of his own.

As he rubbed a hand through his hair and wondered whether there was any possibility his cock would magically deflate… he knew just what that Chosen meant when it came to empty.