J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8 - J. R. Ward [366]
Glancing at John, she murmured, “So that’s how the king fixed it.”
Yes, ma’am, John signed.
She turned to Qhuinn, threw her arms around him, and hugged him so hard his spine shifted. Which was so what he needed. As he held on to her, he took his first deep breath in days.
In a whisper, she said, “We would have kept you here. You didn’t have to go.”
“Couldn’t do that to you.”
“We’re a stronger lot than you think.” She loosened her hold on him and nodded to the rear staircase. “Blay’s upstairs.”
Qhuinn frowned as he saw a stack of luggage next to the kitchen table. “Going somewhere?”
“We have to get out of the city. Most of the glymera are staying, but with . . . what’s happened, it’s too dangerous here.”
“Wise idea.” Qhuinn shut the kitchen door. “You going upstate?”
“Blay’s father is looking for some vacation time, so the three of us are going to make the rounds of family down south—”
Blay appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Crossing his arms, he nodded at John. “Wassup.”
As John signed a greeting back, Qhuinn couldn’t believe his buddy hadn’t mentioned anything about leaving the city. Shit. Was he just going to take off and not say where he was going or when he was due back?
Well, duh. Wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?
Blay’s mom squeezed Qhuinn’s arm and whispered, “I’m glad you came before we left.” In a louder voice, she said, “Okay, I’ve cleaned out the fridge, and there’s nothing perishable in the pantry. I think I’ll go get my jewelry out of the safe.”
Jesus, John signed as she took off. How long are you guys going to be gone?
“Don’t know,” Blay said. “A while.”
In the long pause that followed, John looked back and forth between the two of them. Eventually he made a snorting noise and signed, Okay, this is stupid. What the fuck happened between you two?
“Nothing.”
“Nothing.” Blay nodded over his shoulder. “Listen, I gotta go up and finish packing—”
Qhuinn quickly jumped in. “Yeah, we hafta get go—”
Oh, hell, no. John marched over to the stairs. We’re going to your room and sorting this out. Right now.
As John put sole to step, Qhuinn had to follow the guy, thanks to his new job, and he figured Blay went along probably because his inner Emily Post couldn’t handle not being a good host.
Upstairs, John shut the bedroom door behind them all and put his hands on his hips. As his stare went back and forth, he was like a parent standing over two recalcitrant children and a mess on the floor.
Blay went over to his closet, and as he opened it, the full-length mirror on the back side caught Qhuinn’s reflection. Their eyes met for a moment.
“Nice new piece of jewelry there,” Blay murmured, looking at the chain that marked Qhuinn’s new station.
“Not jewelry.”
“No, it isn’t. And I’m happy for you two. I really am.” He took out a parka . . . which meant the family was either going “down south” as in Antarctica, or the guy intended to be away a long time. Like, into winter.
John stamped his foot. We’re running out of time here. Hello? Assholes?
“I’m sorry,” Qhuinn murmured to Blay. “For what I said in the tunnel.”
“You tell John about it all?”
“No.”
Blay dropped his coat on his Prada duffel bag and looked at John. “He thinks I love him. As in . . . in love with him.”
John’s mouth slowly fell open.
Blay’s laugh flared and stopped short, as if his throat got tight. “Yeah. Go fig. Me in love with Qhuinn . . . a guy who, when he’s not moody, is a slut and smart-ass. Except you want to know what the most fucked-up thing is, though?”
Qhuinn tensed as John nodded.
Blay glanced down at his duffel. “He’s right.”
Well, didn’t John look like he’d been nailed in the foot with a spike.
“Yup,” Blay said. “That’s why I could never get into the females all that much. None of them compared to him. No other guys do either, by the way. So I’m fucked royal, but then, that’s my biz and not his or yours.”
Christ, Qhuinn thought. Wasn’t this the week for revelations.