As Blay's eyes returned to his own, he had the sense the guy was searching for words.
And God help them both, if it hadn't been for Saxton, Qhuinn would have dropped the l-word right then and there, even though the timing was stupid.
"You can, you know," Blay said finally. "Talk to me."
Qhuinn stamped his feet and bunched up his shoulders, stretching the muscles of his back. "Be careful. I might take you up on that."
"It would help." As Qhuinn glanced over again, Blay was the one shaking his head. "I don't know what I'm saying."
Bullshit, Qhuinn thought -
Without warning, V emerged from the cabin, lighting up a hand-rolled as he came out. As Qhuinn fell silent, he wasn't sure whether he was relieved the conversation had been forced to an end or not.
On the exhale, Vishous said, "I need to make sure you understand the consequences."
Qhuinn nodded. "I already know what you're going to say."
Those diamond eyes locked on his own. "Well, let's just open air it anyway, shall we? I don't sense any of the Omega in him, but if it comes out, or if I've missed something, I'm going to have to take care of him."
Kill me, brother mine. Kill me.
"You do what you have to."
"He can't go into the mansion."
"Agreed."
V put out his nonlethal hand. "Swear to it."
It felt strange to clasp the Brother's palm and bind his word on the contact - because that was what next of kin had to do in situations like this, and shit knew he hadn't been next to anything for anybody ever: Even before the disavowal by his family, he'd have been the last person to vouch for the bloodline.
Times had changed though, hadn't they.
"One other thing." V tapped the tip of the hand-rolled. "It's going to be a long, hard recovery for him. And I'm not just talking about the physical shit. You need to prepare yourself."
What, like they'd had a relationship before this or something? He might share some DNA with the guy, but other than that, Luchas was a stranger. "I know."
"Okay. Fair enough."
In the distance, a pair of high-pitched whines cut through the darkness.
"Thank f**k," Qhuinn bit out as he went back into the cabin.
Over in the corner, next to the drum that had been overturned, his brother was nothing but a pile of jackets, his twisted body covered by the makeshift blankets.
Qhuinn stalked across the floorboards, nodding to John Matthew and Rhage.
Kneeling down next to his brother, he felt like he was in a dreamscape, not reality. "Luchas? Listen, here's what's going to happen. They're going to take you out on a sled. You're going to our clinic for treatment. Luchas? Can you hear me?"
As the pair of snowmobiles tore up to the cabin, Blay tracked their progress from the porch, watching their headlights get bigger and brighter, the pair of engines dimming into steady purrs as they reached their destination. Oh...this was good: Behind one of them, there was a covered sled, the kind of thing he'd seen on TV during the Olympics when some skier had crashed through the ropes and been evac'd down a mountain.
Perfect.
Manny and Butch dismounted and jogged over.
"They're right in there," Blay said, getting out of the doctor's way.
"Luchas? You with me?" he heard Qhuinn murmur.
Peering in, Blay wathced as Manny bent over Luchas's body. Man, what a f**king night. And he'd thought the air show from a couple of evenings ago had been full of drama?
It's always been you.
Turning back to face the forest, Blay rubbed his face again, like that was going to help. And he wanted to light up another Dunhill, but the longer this took, the more paranoid he became. The last thing this situation needed was a squadron of lessers showing up before they could get Luchas out to safety.
Better to have a forty than a cig in his hands.
It's always been you.
"You okay?" Butch asked.
In the spirit of honesty, because that seemed to be tonight's theme song, he shook his head. "Not in the slightest."
The cop clapped him on the shoulder. "So you knew him."
"I thought I did, yes." Oh, wait, the question was about Luchas. "I mean, yes, I did."
"It's gotta be wicked tough, this whole thing."
Blay glanced over his shoulder again and got another eyeful of Qhuinn crouching next to his brother. His old friend's face was ancient in the beams of those flashlights, to the point where Blay wondered if he had actually seen it relaxed after they'd been together - or whether he'd been mistaken.
You were the only thing...actually.
"It is tough," he muttered.
And strange, too.
Right after his transition, he had looked for some sign that the way he felt about his friend was reciprocated, some clue as to where Qhuinn was at. But there had been nothing that he had been able to see - nothing other than abiding loyalty, friendship, and kick-ass fighting skills: Through the hookups they'd had with other people, and the training, and then the nights out in the field...he had always been on the far side of the connection he'd wanted, staring into a wall he couldn't get around.
That short time on this porch?
It was the first time he'd ever gotten a glimpse of what he'd longed for even more greatly than the sex.
Shit, for a treacherous moment, he wondered if there had in fact been an "in" involved when Layla had spilled the beans outside of his bedroom.
"They're moving him." Butch snagged Blay's arm and got him out of the way of the door. "Come stand with me."
Luchas had been properly covered now, a silver Mylar blanket wrapped around him from head to foot, nothing but the barest hint of his face showing. They had put him onto a collapsible stretcher, with Qhuinn at one end and V on the other. Manny walked alongside, as if he were not sure whether he was going to need to resuscitate things at any given moment.
Over at the sled, they transferred Qhuinn's brother and strapped him down.
"I'm driving him out," Qhuinn announced as he mounted up and gunned the snowmobile's engine.
"Slow and steady," Manny warned. "He's a f**king mass of broken bones."
Qhuinn glanced over at Blay. "Ride with me?"
No reason to answer that. He marched over and got on behind the guy.
Typical of Qhuinn, he didn't bother waiting for the others. He just nailed the accelerator and took off. He did, however, listen to the good doctor: He made a broad turn and followed the tracks that had been made, keeping the speed fast enough to make some time, but not so much so that they blendered Luchas.