Lover at Last
Lover at Last (Black Dagger Brotherhood #11)(137)
Author: J.R. Ward
"I’ve got it," he hollered out as he took his cue with him, striding over to the security check-in screen.
Saxton was on the stoop, the male looking rested and healthy.
Blay opened the way in. "Welcome back."
There was a moment of surprise on the other male’s face, but he recovered fast with a smile. "Hello."
Blay wasn’t sure whether they should embrace or not. Did they shake?
"We need to stop this awkwardness," Saxton announced. "Come here."
"I know, right?"
After a quick hug, Blay grabbed the male’s matching Gucci bags, and the pair of them hit the grand staircase, ascending side by side.
"So how was the vacation?" Blay asked.
"Wonderful. I went to my aunt’s – the one who still talks to me? She has a place down in Florida."
"Dangerous place for vampires. Not a lot of basements."
"Ah, but she lives in a stone castle." Saxton nodded around at the foyer. "Not unlike this one. The evenings were warm, the ocean was wonderful, and the nightlife was – "
As Saxton stopped short, Blay glanced over. "It’s all right, you know. I’m glad you had a good time. Honest."
Saxton regarded him steadily, and then murmured, "You’ve been busy yourself, haven’t you."
Damn redheaded coloring. Any blush had always shown – and right now, his face was on frickin’ fire.
As they took a left in front of Wrath’s study and headed down the hall of statues, Saxton laughed a little. "I’m happy for you – and I’m not going to ask any questions."
He knew the "who," Blay thought. "Yeah. So."
"How about you fill me in on the gossip," Saxton said as they went into the male’s room. "I feel like I’ve been gone forever."
"Well…brace yourself."
Luchas. Trez and iAm. Qhuinn and the induction.
By the time Blay was finished downloading, Saxton was sitting on his bed with his mouth hanging open.
"But you knew about the Qhuinn thing, didn’t you," Blay said as he finally stopped reporting.
"Yes, I did." Saxton straightened his bow tie, even though the tight knot was perfectly symmetrical. "And I have to say, even though I don’t know as much as you do about how he is in the field, everything that I’ve heard suggests it is an honor well placed. I understand he played a big role in getting Wrath safe when the assassination was attempted?"
"He’s brave, that’s true."
Among many other things.
As Blay looked out into the hall and pictured those hooded figures clustered around his friend, all he could think of was…what the hell were they going to do to him?
Chapter Seventy
Qhuinn had no clue where he was.
Before they’d left his room, he’d been given a black robe and instructed to put the hood up, lock his eyes on the floor and keep his hands clasped behind his back. He was not to speak unless spoken to, and it was made clear that how he acted was part of what he’d be judged on.
No being an ass**le or a pu**y.
He could do that.
Next stop after getting led down the grand staircase had been V’s Escalade; he knew by the tang of Turkish tobacco and the sound of the engine. Short drive, executed slowly. And then he was told to get out, cold air seeping under the hood of his robe as well as the hem.
His bare feet traversed an icy-cold, frozen stretch of earth, and then hit smooth, hard-packed dirt that had no snow on it. Going by the acoustics, it was clear they were heading through a corridor or maybe a cave…? It wasn’t long before he was jerked to a stop, heard some kind of gate was opened, and then found himself on a decline. A little later, he was yanked to a halt a second time, and then there was another whisper, as if one more barrier of some sort was being cleared.
Smooth marble under his bare feet now. And the shit was warm. There was also a mellow light source – candlelight.
God, his heartbeat was loud in his ears.
After a number of yards, he was again pulled to a stop, and then he heard shifting fabric everywhere around him. The Brothers disrobing.
He wanted to look up, see where they were at, find out what was doing, but he did not. As instructed, he kept his head down and his eyes on the –
A heavy hand landed on the nape of his neck, and Wrath’s voice boomed in the Old Language. "You are unworthy to enter herein as you stand now. Nod your head."
Qhuinn nodded.
"Say that you are unworthy."
In the Old Language, he replied, "I am unworthy."
From all around him, the Brothers let out an explosive shout in the Old Language, a disagreement that made him want to thank them for having his back.
"Though you are unworthy," the king continued, "you desire to become as such this night. Nod your head."
He nodded.
"Say that you wish to become worthy."
"I wish to become worthy."
This time the tremendous shout from the Brothers was one of approval and support.
Wrath continued. "There is only one way to become worthy, and it is the right and proper way. Flesh of our flesh. Nod your head."
Qhuinn nodded.
"Say that you wish to become flesh of our flesh."
"I wish to become flesh of your flesh."
As soon as his voice faded, a chanting started up, the deep voices of the Brotherhood mingling until they formed a perfect chord and a perfect cadence. He did not join in, because he had not been told to do so – but as someone stepped in front of him, and somebody fell in line behind him, and then the whole group started weaving side by side, his body followed their lead.
Moving together, they became one unit, their powerful shoulders shifting back and forth to the rhythm of the chanting, their weight tick-tocking on their hips – the lineup of them beginning to move forward.
Qhuinn started chanting. He didn’t mean to; it just happened. His lips parted, his lungs filled, and his voice joined the others….
The instant it did, he started to cry.
Thank f**k for the hood.
All of his life he had wanted to belong. Be accepted. Be one among a many that he respected. He had wanted it with such a need that the denial of any and all unity had nearly killed him – and he had survived only by revolting against authority, customs, norms.
He hadn’t even been aware of giving up on ever finding this communion.
And yet now here he was, somewhere in the earth, surrounded by males who had…chosen him. The Brotherhood, the most respected fighters in the race, the most powerful soldiers, the elite of the elite…had chosen him.
No accident of birth, this.
To have been considered a curse, but be embraced here and now? Abruptly, he felt as if he were whole in a way that he had never been before –