Page 31 of Lover Forbidden
Arriving at the clinic section of things, he could hear voices on the other side of the only closed door among all the rooms. Doc Jane and Tohr were in there, rapid-firing some kind of conversation, and as he inhaled through his nose, he could scent the dying male. Word had it, the patient was still alive, but that update had been hours ago.
As he leaned back against the concrete wall and waited for one of the pair of them to come out, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the floor. His shitkickers had left a line of damp footprints that went all the way back to the parking garage’s reinforced door. Thanks to the heat that was being blown in from the ceiling vents, soon enough there would be no evidence of his path.
A reminder, not that he needed it, of how the whole mortal thing worked—
God, he hated coming to this place. The fact that his brother, Luchas, had been a patient here… and then chose to walk out the emergency exit into a snowstorm—
The door to the patient room opened and Tohr stepped through, a coffee mug in his hand, a grim expression on his face. As the brother’s navy blue eyes lifted, they registered surprise.
“Oh, hey, Q. What’s doing?”
Qhuinn lifted his dagger hand in a hi-how’re-ya. “Just wanted to come and see how things were going with that male.”
“Not great. But Doc Jane is doing everything she can.”
“Heard he coded twice in the mobile unit coming in.”
“Three times, actually.” Tohr ran his fingers over his high-and-tight. As the front resettled badly, the white streak formed a question mark. “Who’s counting at this point.”
There was a pause. “That coffee smells good.”
“Dunkin’.” Tohr took a sip. “You can’t go wrong with the OG. Especially on a night like tonight.”
“It’s been a bitch. I’m assuming nobody’s found L.W.?”
Stupid fucking question. There would have been immediate communication—
“Not yet.” Tohr tilted his head. “Did you need something?”
“I should have stayed out there. I just…”
“You’re dealing with enough right now. I told you two weeks ago that you shouldn’t be on schedule.”
To avoid the brother’s frank stare, Qhuinn looked down to the glass door into the training center’s office. He was staring in that direction, rather aimlessly, when a pattern of cracks on the concrete walling registered. It took a moment for the origin of them to sink in, and as he realized what they were, he cursed under his breath.
Oh, Christ. Did deathhaveto stalk him like this tonight?
Just as the thought came to him, Tohr’s broad shoulders passed through his visual field—and as the brother walked over to the spidery fissures, Qhuinn straightened with a jerk.
“I wasn’t looking at…” He let the lie drift.
“How’s Rocke doing,” the brother said bleakly as he ran trembling fingertips along the pattern of veins.
You would know, Qhuinn thought sadly.
“He’s, ah, he’s focused on hisshellan. What she needs, night by night… hour by hour. In a weird way, I don’t think he really knows what’s happening at this point. I can’t decide whether that is good or cruel.”
Tohr glanced back. “Is the elder Lyric comfortable?”
“Doc Jane has been great. Her pain’s under control, and she’s pretty lucid. For now, at least. I don’t know how much more time we have.”
“How’s Blay?”
“Braver than anybody else in the situation.” Qhuinn had to clear his throat to finish with: “Which is not a surprise.”
“You need to stop trying to be in two places at once. You should be home with all of them. I know that’s where your heart is.”
“With the King’s son gone, how could I not be downtown?”
