Lover at Last (Black Dagger Brotherhood #11)(117)
Author: J.R. Ward

"What?"

"If you spend time with them, they’ll encourage your needing to come."

"Reeeeeeally." The queen grinned. "Then you could be the answer to my prayers."

"Well, I’m not sure whether it’s true. On the Far Side, we’re fertile all the time. It’s only here on Earth that females are subjected to hormone fluctuations – but I have read about the effect in the library."

"Then let’s do our own experiment, shall we?" Beth offered her palm for a shake. "Besides, I like being here. You’re very inspirational."

Layla’s brows peaked as she shook what was presented to her. "Inspir – oh, no. I cannot see that at all."

"Think of everything you’ve been through."

"The pregnancy has resolved itself, though – "

"Not just that. You’re the survivor of a cult." As Layla gave her a blank look, the queen asked, "You’ve never heard of that?"

"I know the word’s definition. But I’m not sure it applies to me."

The queen glanced away, as if she didn’t want to create discord. "Hey, I could be wrong, and you would certainly know better than me – besides, you’re happy now, and that’s what matters."

Layla focused on the television across the way. From what she understood, a cult was not a good thing, and survivor was a term usually associated with people who had been through some kind of trauma.

The Sanctuary had been as placid and temperate as a spring day upon the earth, all the females in the sacred place calm and at peace with their important duties to the mother of the race.

No coercion. No strife.

For some reason, Payne’s voice entered her mind.

You and I are sisters in my mother’s tyranny – casualties of her grand plan for the way things must be. We were both jailed by her in different ways, you as a Chosen, myself as her blooded daughter.

"I’m sorry," the queen said, reaching out and touching Layla’s arm. "I didn’t mean to upset you. I honestly don’t know what the hell I’m talking about."

Layla snapped herself back to attention. "Oh, please, do not concern yourself." She clasped the queen’s hand. "I take no offense at all. But now, let us speak of happier things – such as your hellren. He must be impatient for your time to come as well."

Beth laughed tightly. "That is not exactly where he’s at."

"Surely he must want an heir?"

"I think he’ll give me one. But only because I want a child as badly as I do."

"Oh."

"’Oh’ is right." Beth gave Layla’s palm a squeeze. "He just worries too much. I’m strong and healthy, and ready for it. Now, if I could just get my body to get in gear – hopefully, it will take your cue."

Layla smiled and rubbed her flat belly. "Did you hear that, little one? You need to help your queen. It’s important for the royal family to have a young."

"But it’s not for the throne," Beth interjected. "Not on my part. I just want to be a mom, and I want to have my husband’s kid. At the core, it’s as simple as that."

Layla fell silent. She was so glad to have Qhuinn with her on this journey – but it would have been wonderful to have a proper mate to lie beside her and cradle her during the day, to love her and hold her and tell her that she was precious not solely for what her body could do, but for what she inspired in his heart.

An image of Xcor’s harsh face flashed into her mind’s eye.

Shaking her head, she thought, no, she mustn’t dwell on that. She needed to keep herself calm and relaxed for the young as surely her stress was transmitted to that which her womb nurtured. Besides, she had already been blessed with much, and if this pregnancy went to term and she lived through the birth?

She had been granted a true and abiding miracle.

"I’m sure it will work out with the king," she announced. "Fate has a way of giving us what we need."

"Amen, sister. Amen."

Sola pulled her Audi directly into the driveway of the glass house on the river, and she parked right at the rear door of the damn thing.

Getting out, she planted her boots in the snow, put her hand inside her parka on the butt of her gun, and shut the door with her hip. As she marched up to that back entrance, she made eye contact with the roofline.

There had to be security cameras up there.

She didn’t bother to ring the doorbell or knock on the door. He would know she was here. And he if he wasn’t home? Well, then she’d think of a nice little calling card of some sort to leave him.

Maybe a security alarm that went off? An open window or cupboard?

Or something missing from inside…

The door opened and there he was, live and in person – exactly as he had been the night before, and yet, as ever, somehow taller, more dangerous, and sexier than she remembered.

"Isn’t this a bit obvious for you?" he drawled.

He was dressed in a dark suit of some designer variety – and the thing had to have been hand-tailored as well, given the way it fit him so perfectly.

"I’m here to set something straight," she said.

"And you appear to want to dictate terms." As if this were a quaint idea. "Anything else? Did you happen to bring dinner? I’m hungry."

"Are you going to let me in, or do you want to do this in the cold?"

"Is your hand on a weapon, by any chance?"

"Of course it is."

"In that case, do come in."

As he stepped aside, she rolled her eyes. Why the fact that she could shoot him would encourage the man to let her into his house was a mystery –

Sola froze as she looked into a modern kitchen. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder were two men who were identical images of each other. They were also as big as the man she’d come for, just as dangerous – and they each had a gun in their hand.

They had to be the ones who’d been with him under the bridge.

The door clapped shut, and even though her adrenal glands let out a burst of warning, she kept the reaction to herself.

The one she had come to see smiled as he brushed past her. "These are my associates."

"I want to speak with you alone."

The man eased back against a granite counter, put a cigar between his teeth, and lit it with a gold lighter. As he clipped the top shut, he exhaled a puff of blue smoke and looked over at her. "Gentlemen, will you excuse us for a moment."

The twin Mr. Happys didn’t look pleased with the dismissal. Then again, you could probably have tried to give them both a winning lottery ticket and they would have eaten your hand clean off your wrist. Just on principle.

They did walk off, however, moving in a synchronized way that was highly unsettling.