Yeah, apparently the line was not drawn at gale-force winds or blinding snow.
Diaper duty was the divide.
"Stay here," Blay announced as he went to open his door.
He'd meant to emerge triumphantly, an equal to an equal who had been only temporarily bested by a failure of his Bridgestone radials. But the door was fucking stuck.
He ended up dematerializing out of a two-inch crack in the window.
Damn it was cold, he thought as the wind started smacking his face around.
"She's injured!" he shouted into the gale.
Qhuinn just stared at him, those eyes reaching across the space that separated them, questioning, begging. But then the guy shook himself out of it. "Because of this accident?"
"No, before! She slipped and hurt that ankle again. She wasn't wearing her boot. I was trying to drive them to the training center."
"You should have called me before--I would have--"
From out of the storm, another figure arrived. Tohr. And as Qhuinn tweaked to the presence, he turned around and seemed surprised. Then relieved.
"Can she dematerialize?" Qhuinn yelled as he refocused.
"No! And we're not leaving her!"
Qhuinn nodded. "I need to go and get the Hummer!"
They were yelling back and forth, cupping their hands, bracing their bodies--and oddly, Blay thought that it was a lot like communicating through the events that had happened around Layla and the kids. That whole storm had blown in between them, rocking them both, creating an emotional blizzard that made the landscape of their relationship impenetrable--and the bad weather had yet to move on.
In fact, he feared it never would.
"I'll stay with them!" Blay said.
Tohr spoke up. "I'm going home and getting blankets! And then I'll be back to help guard!"
Blay had to turn his head away and get the snow out of his eyes. "Thank you!"
When he felt Qhuinn's hand on his shoulder, he jumped, but didn't step out of reach.
"I'm coming right back, okay?" the Brother said. "Don't worry about anything."
For a split second, Blay just stared into those mismatched eyes. Something about the sight of them, so concerned and intense, made the pain in the center of his chest feel fresh as the moment it had first been created.
But that wasn't all he felt.
His body still wanted the guy. His body was still ready...for more of Qhuinn. Goddamn it.
Without another word, Qhuinn got gone and so did Tohr.
Blay stood there in the storm for a heartbeat or two longer, pivoting around so he could look up to the highway. Oh, check it. They'd managed to break through the side rail.
Before he got back inside the car, he went around to the front hood, got down on his knees, and took out his Swiss Army knife. His hands had no gloves so he worked fast, brushing the snow away, removing the two screws that held the license plate to its holder and snagging the tag. Then he fought his way through the wind to the back and did the same thing to the rear plate, tucking them both into the inside of his jacket.
Dematerializing into the car, he smiled at his parents. "They're coming right back. Won't be a problem."
His mahmen nodded and smiled. "They are just the best."
"Uh-huh." He pointed to the glove compartment. "Say, Dad, would you mind--"
"Already did."
His old man gave him the registration and insurance cards, both of which V had faked, and Blay put them inside his parka as well. The VIN numbers had been scrubbed as soon as they'd gotten the thing for just this occasion--when you were a vampire in a human world, and your ride wrecked, a lot of times you just up and left it because the hassle wasn't worth the retrieval.
FFS, it was going to be a day or two before anyone could even get to the sedan, maybe longer, so it was best to simply write the whole thing off.
As he stared out the side window, Blay felt a curling anxiety that had nothing to do with his mom's appendage or the blizzard.
You can't go back, he told himself. Only forward.
"I'm really going to miss this car," his mom murmured. "I was just getting used to it."
"We'll get another one, honey," his pops said. "And you can pick it out."
Yeah, too bad you couldn't just go to a RelationshipMax lot and buy a new version of whatever you'd crashed, one that maybe had some technology upgrades and better suspension on your partner.
But life didn't work like that.
FORTY-TWO
Behind the wheel of his Hummer, Qhuinn felt like it took a month to get back to where that Volvo had deep-sixed itself off the side of the highway. He supposed, though, as the mile marker that he'd waited forever for finally presented itself, that he should be grateful he could get out here at all. His second new SUV was tight like that, though, its claw-treaded tires fortified with a set of King Kong chains, its wide wheelbase, and mile-high clearance exactly what you needed on a night like tonight.
When you were rescuing the love of your life and his parents out in the middle of the blizzard.
Even with the vehicle's kick-assness, though, visibility was for shit, and he'd had to turn the headlights off in favor of parking lights as soon as he'd picked up speed on the Northway: With his keen eyes, the illumination was still plenty and this addressed the issue he'd had with the whiteout created by those Xenon motherfuckers hitting all the flakes.
As he passed the marker, he steered the Hummer off the center track and onto the shoulder. Squinting, even though it didn't improve his visual acuity, he tried to make out exactly where they'd gone off the road on the opposite, northbound bunch of lanes.
He'd gone about three feet with that act before he decided, fuck it.
Wrenching the wheel to the left, he broke off onto the median, crossed into oncoming traffic--which was nonexistent, at least at the moment--and headed down the Northway going the wrong way. Flipping on the side-mounted spotlight, he used its handle to flash the powerful beam off to the side.
He found the Volvo about three hundred and fifty yards up, and something about seeing the station wagon off the highway at an angle, some six feet down from that busted side rail, made him want to throw up. Instead of going that bad-goiter route, however, he hit the brakes, threw the engine in park, and opened his door.
The Volvo had lost traction at the base of a hill, its grille going headfirst into the snow in such a way that the driver's door couldn't be opened. Blay and his family had taken advantage of the other side, though, his father and himself out and helping his mahmen from the backseat. Lyric was grimacing in pain as they manhandled her, but she wasn't complaining. She was trying to smile.
"Hello, Qhuinn," she shouted into the storm as he came down the incline to them.
That was as far as she got with the talking. The jostling was obviously killing her, and Qhuinn wished he could help.
Meanwhile, Tohr was standing by as well, with the blanket he'd brought and a thermos in his hands. Qhuinn had been shocked that the brother had shown up on the scene, and man, had it been good to know that he was holding things down while the Hummer had been brought out here.
"I'll take her up," Blay's dad announced, as any bonded male would.
And out of deference to him, everyone stood back as the guy got his mate up into his arms. Blay then fell in behind his father, pushing his parents up the incline to the Hummer as Tohr scanned the storm for the enemy and Qhuinn ran ahead, turned the SUV around, and opened the rear door.
God, please let no human come by. Especially not in a CPD or state police car.
It was another case of things taking forever before Lyric was safely in the back of the vehicle, and Qhuinn took a deep breath.
But they still had to get to the mansion in one piece.
As Blay got in beside him in front and the male's dad went around and sat with Lyric, Tohr came over.
Qhuinn put his window down. "Thank you...thank you so much."
The brother passed him the blanket a
nd the thermos. "This is hot chocolate. Fritz apparently has it at the ready on nights like tonight."
"Are you going back downtown?"
Tohr looked off into the blowing snow. "We go together, it's what we agreed on."
Qhuinn put his palm out. "Amen, brother."
After they shook, Tohr stepped back. "I'll follow you home."
"You don't have to. But I'm glad you are."
Tohr nodded once and then fist-bumped the hood. "Drive safe."
Qhuinn put up his window and hit the gas--gingerly. The Hummer was kitted out for all kinds of terrain, including Fuckloads of Fucking Snow, but he wasn't going to take chances with his precious cargo--and then there was the fact that Blay's mom hissed as the SUV bumped over into the snow track.
As they commenced the trip, Blay's mom and dad talked quietly in the back, support being offered and accepted, the murmurs warm and intimate.
You know, basically the opposite of what was doing in the front of the vehicle.
Qhuinn glanced at Blay. The male was staring straight out the windshield, his face impassive.
"So I'm going to take us right into the training center," Qhuinn said.
This was a dumb-ass statement, of course. Like he was going to Santa them down the chimney or something?
"That'd be great." Blay cleared his throat and then unzipped his parka. "So the Brotherhood was out in the field tonight?"
"What?"
"Wrath still sent everyone out in this storm?" When Qhuinn continued to look confused, Blay said, "You and Tohr were talking about being in the field?"
"Oh, yeah. No. Everybody's off."
"So what were you guys doing downtown?"
"Oh, nothing."
Blay refocused out the windshield. "Private Brotherhood business, huh. Well, I can smell the gunpowder on you."
--
When the Hummer arrived at the training center, stopping in front of the reinforced door at the base of the parking garage, Blay was the first out of the SUV. The ride into the compound had been marked by a series of awkward conversational stops and starts between him and Qhuinn, to the point where it was a toss-up whether strained silence was better than all the throat clearing. And meanwhile, in the back, his parents were listening to everything, even as they pretended to chat among themselves.
Nothing like baring your relationship's low point in front of Mommy and Daddy.
It was almost as much fun as a broken ankle.
Just as Blay was opening his mother's door, Dr. Manello came out with a gurney, the human male smiling pleasantly, but also doing that eagle-eye thing all physicians and surgeons did when confronting a patient.
"How are we, folks?" the guy said as Lyric struggled free of the Hummer's backseat. "Glad you made it in in one piece."
Blay's mahmen tilted her head and smiled over at the healer as she leaned on her hellren. "Oh, I was stupid."
"You didn't boot up."
"No, I didn't." She rolled her eyes. "I was just trying to make First Meal. And here you have it."
Dr. Manello shook palms with Blay's dad and then put his hand on Lyric's shoulder. "Well, not to worry, I'm going to take really good care of you."
For some reason, that simple statement, coupled with the complete confidence the guy wore like an aura granted from God Himself, made Blay have to look away and blink quick.
"You all right?" Qhuinn asked quietly.
Blay pulled it together and ignored the comment as his mom was carefully put onto the stretcher and Dr. Manello did a fast examination like he couldn't help himself.
"When are you coming home?" Qhuinn whispered.
When Blay didn't answer, the male pressed, "Please...come back."
Blay stepped over to the gurney. "Mahmen, do you need a blanket over you? No? Okay, I'll get the door."
With purpose, he held things open and stood off to the side as everyone fell into a line and entered the training center. After he was sure he had closed things properly behind them, he joined the march down the long concrete corridor, going past the classrooms and the break room that the new trainee class used.
Like everything else in Caldwell, things were shut down tonight, no students around, everyone hunkered down.
Just as well, the screams...dearest Virgin no-longer Scribe from the screams.
"What is that?" Blay's mom asked. "Is someone dying?"
Dr. Manello just shook his head. Although vampire healthcare had no HIPAA rules, the doctor never talked about his patients, even when the information was Brother to Brother--and Blay had always admired that about the man. About Doc Jane, too. Hell, in the mansion, everybody tended to know everybody else's business. And when things were going okay? That was fine. When they weren't?
The household's loving, caring, swearing peanut gallery could get to be a bit much.
"So when can we see those young?" Blay's dad asked as he glanced over his shoulder at Qhuinn. "I haven't held my grandbabies in ten nights. It's been too long. And I know their grandmahmen could use some cheering up, right, my love?"
As Blay sucked in a curse, he made sure he didn't look in Qhuinn's direction. But at least he knew he could rely on the guy to bow out of the--
"Absolutely. Can we wait until tomorrow night, though? Because I'd love to bring them out to your house and have a proper visit in your home."
Excuse me, Blay thought. Are you fucking kidding me?
As he shot the male a glare, Blay's mother filled the silence with a gasping happiness.
Twisting around on the gurney, she looked up at Qhuinn. "Truly?"
The Brother blithely ignored Blay as they all went into an exam room. "Yup. I know you've wanted us to come see you and I think now would be a great time."
Unbelievable. Un-frickin'-believable.
But he had to give the guy credit for a well-played card. Lyric had wanted to fuss and bake and take pictures of the kids in her own home for quite a while, although she had certainly never said anything overt about it because she hadn't wanted to be pushy. Her campaign had been far more subtle, nothing more than dropped hints here and there about the possibility of sleepovers, when they were much, much older, and visits during the festivals, when they were much, much older, and movie nights, when they were much, much older.
The yearning had always been in her voice, though.
As Blay's mom reached out and squeezed Qhuinn's forearm, Assail picked that moment to scream again--which, what do you know, was exactly what Blay was doing in his own head.
"Okay, let's see what we've got here."
As Dr. Manello spoke up, Blay wondered what the hell the doctor was going on about--and then remembered, oh, right, they were in an exam room. After they'd gone off the highway. In the middle of the worst early December snowstorm ever recorded.
FFS, he really just wanted to hit Qhuinn with something. A cabinet full of medical supplies, or maybe that desk over there.
"We're going to need to get an X-ray. And then we'll..."
As the physician started talking, Blay's dad got all serious and focused, and Blay wanted to as well. Instead, he waited for Qhuinn to glance over.
And then he mouthed, Out in the hall. Right now.
Message delivered, Blay glanced across at his parents. "We're just going to chat for a sec, be right back."
He hated the way his mom looked at him approvingly, like she expected whatever was wrong to blow over in time for the family to Norman Rockwell it up at nightfall tomorrow.
That was one gift he was not going to be getting her for Christmas.
The second Qhuinn joined him out in the corridor, Blay reached across and pulled the door shut behind them. And after checking to make sure there was nobody else around, he got his lawn mower out.
"Are you fucking kidding me," he said in a hush. "You are not coming there tomorrow night."
Qhuinn just shrugged. "Your parents want to see--"
"Yeah, those two young you made sure I knew weren't my kids. So no, you're not bringin
g your son and daughter out to my parents' house, just as an excuse to see me. I'm not going to let you do that."
"Blay, you're taking this too far--"
"Said the asshole who wanted to put a bullet in the mother of his children's head. As she stood over their bassinets." He threw up his hands. "Qhuinn, you can't possibly be this critically self-involved."
The male leaned forward on his hips. "I don't know how many times I can say I'm sorry."
"Neither do I, but apologies won't make this better."
There was a break of silence, and then Qhuinn eased back, a remote expression coming down over his features.
"So that's it, then," he said. "You're throwing our whole relationship away over one comment."
"It wasn't a comment. It was a revelation."
And one that had pretty much killed him where he stood. Hell, he'd have had a better chance of survival being the one Qhuinn had shot at.
Qhuinn crossed his arms over his chest, in a way that made his biceps get so big they strained even the loose sleeves of that white parka.
"Do you remember..." The male cleared his throat. "Do you remember back, like a million years ago, when you came over to my house after my dad--you know, after he went off on me?"
Blay looked down at the concrete floor between them. "There were a lot of nights like that. Which one?"
"Fair enough. But you were always there for me, you know. You'd sneak over, we'd hit PlayStation and chill. You were my salvation. You're the only reason I'm alive right now. Why those kids even exist."
Blay started to shake his head. "Don't do this. Don't use the past to try and make me feel guilty."
"You always told me that my father was wrong for hating me. You said you couldn't understand why he--"
"Look, I paid my dues with you," Blay snapped. "Okay? I fucking paid my dues. I was your kiss-ass, your Band-Aid, your safety blanket. And you want to know why? It wasn't because you were so special. It was because you were a slut I couldn't have and I took your promiscuity as my not being enough--and that made me want to prove myself to you over and over again. And I'm not doing that anymore. You pushed me away for all that time, when you were fucking other people, but I'll give you a pass on that because I didn't have the balls to come out and tell you how I felt back then. But when you pushed me away up in that bedroom? You knew how much I love you. I'm not coming back from that--"