Lover Reborn

families, on their turf.”

At this, there was an explosion in the room, irrespective of his warning: People jumped out of their seats, throwing up their dagger hands.

Bad idea, Qhuinn thought, agreeing with the others.

Wrath let them go for a minute, like he’d expected this. Then he resumed control of the meeting. “I can’t expect support if I don’t earn it—and I haven’t personally seen some of these people in decades, if not centuries. My father met with folks every month, if not every week, to resolve disputes.”

“You’re the king!” someone bit out. “You don’t need to do shit—”

“You see that letter? It’s the new world order—if I don’t respond proactively, I’m undermining myself. Look, my brothers, if you were out in the field, about to face the enemy, would you fool yourself about the landscape? Would you lie to yourself about the layout of the streets, the buildings, the cars, or whether it was hot or cold, raining or dry? No. So why should I bullshit myself that tradition is something I can take cover behind in a shoot-out? Back in my father’s time… that shit was a bulletproof vest. Now? It’s a sheet of paper, people. You gotta know that.”

There was a long period of silence, and then everyone looked at Tohr. Like they were used to turning to him when shit got sticky.

“He’s right,” the Brother said gruffly. Then he focused on Wrath. “But you gotta know you’re not doing this alone. You need to have two or three of us with you. And the meet-and-greets have to be staggered over a period of months—cram them in too tight and you look desperate, but more to the point, I don’t want anyone getting organized to do a hit on you. Sites must be prescreened by us, and…” At this, he paused to glance around. “You need to be aware that we’re going to be trigger-happy. We will shoot to kill when your life’s on the line—whether it’s a female or a male or a doggen or the head of a family. We will not ask permission, or merely wound. If you can live with those terms, we will let you do this.”

Nobody else could have laid down the rules like that and walked without a limp afterward: The king gave out orders to the Brotherhood, not the other way around. But this was the new world, as Wrath had said.

The male in question ground his molars for a while. Then grunted. “Agreed.”

As a collective exhale hit the airwaves, Qhuinn found himself looking over at Blay. Aw, hell, talk about a suck zone—this was why he avoided the guy like the plague. Just one glance and he was locked on, all kinds of reactions rolling through him, until the room spun a little—

For no good reason, Blay’s eyes flipped up and met his.

It was like getting goosed in the ass with a live wire, his body spasming to the point where he had to hide the reaction by coughing while he glanced away.

About as smooth as a crater. Yup. Fantastic.

“… and in the meantime,” Wrath was saying, “I want to find out where these soldiers are staying.”

“I can take care of that,” Xhex spoke up. “Especially if I hit them in the daytime.”

All heads turned in her direction. Beside her, John stiffened from head to foot, and Qhuinn cursed under his breath.

Talk about your showdowns… except hadn’t the pair of them just had one?

Man, sometimes he was really glad he didn’t do relationships.

Not again, John thought to himself. For fuck’s sake, they’d just gotten back on speaking terms, and now this?

If he’d thought fighting side by side with Xhex was trouble, the idea of her trying to infiltrate the Band of Bastards on their home turf put him on the edge of a seizure.

As he let his head fall back against the wall, he realized that everyone and their dog was staring at him. Literally—even George’s brown eyes were trained in his direction.

“Are you kidding me,” Xhex said. “Are you frickin’ kidding me.”

Even after she spoke, nobody looked at her. It was all about John: Clearly, as he was her hellren, they were seeking his approval—or not—about what she’d put out there.

And John couldn’t seem to move, stuck in the cold quagmire between what she wanted and where he didn’t want them to end up.

Wrath cleared his throat. “Well, that’s a kind offer—”

“Kind offer?” she spat. “Like I’m inviting you to dinner?”

Say something, he told himself. Put your flapping hands up and tell her… What? That he was on board with her going to find six males with no consciences? After what Lash had done to her? What if she was captured and…

Oh, Jesus, he was cracking up over here. Yes, she was tough and strong and capable. But she was as mortal as anybody else. And without Xhex, he wouldn’t want to be on the planet at all.

Rehvenge snagged his cane and pushed himself up. “Let’s you and I talk—”

“Excuse me?” Xhex bit out. “ ‘Talk’? Like I’m the one who needs a mental readjustment? No offense, but bite me, Rehv. The bunch of you need me to do what I can to help.”

As all the other males in the room started looking at their shitkickers and loafers, the symphath king shook his head. “Things are different now.”

“How.”

“Come on, Xhex—”

“Are you people insane? Just because my name’s in his back, I’m suddenly a prisoner or some shit?”

“Xhex—”

“Oh, no, nope, you can fuck off with that be-reasonable tone.” She glared at the males, and then focused on Beth and Payne. “I don’t know how you two stand it—I really don’t.”

John was trying to think of what he could say to derail the collision, but what a waste of time. Two trains had already made head-on contact and there was twisted metal and steaming engine parts everywhere.

Especially as Xhex marched for the door like she was prepared to claw it apart just to prove a point.

When he went to follow her, she pegged him with a hard eye. “If you’re coming after me for any other reason than to let me go after Xcor, you need to stop right where you are. Because you belong with this anachronistic group of misogynists. Not at my side.”

Lifting his hands, he signed, It is not wrong to want to keep you safe.

“This is not about safety—it’s about control.”

Bullshit! You were hurt less than twenty-four hours ago—

“Fine. I have an idea. I want to keep you safe—so how about you stop fighting.” She glared over her shoulder at Wrath. “You gonna back me up, my lord? How about the rest of you fools? Let’s put the skirt and the panty hose on John, shall we? Come on, back my ass up. No? You don’t think that would be ‘fair’?”

John’s temper flared, and he just… He didn’t mean to do what he did. It just happened.

He stomped his boot, creating a thunderous noise, and pointed… directly at Tohr.

Awkward. Horrid. Silence.

Kind of like he and Xhex had not only dragged their dirty laundry out in front of everyone, but he’d managed to drape their sweat socks and stained shirts all over Tohr’s head.

In response? The Brother just crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, once.

Xhex shook her head. “I gotta get out of here. I gotta clear my head. John, if you know what’s good for you, you will not follow me.”

And just like that, she was gone.

In the aftermath, John rubbed his face, pushing his palms in so hard he felt like he was rearranging his features.

“How ’bout everybody head off for the night,” Wrath said softly. “I want to talk to John. Tohr, you hang.”

No need to ask twice. The Brotherhood and the others left like someone was out in the courtyard stealing their cars.

Beth stayed behind. So did George.

As the doors shut, John looked at Tohr. I’m so sorry—