Page 51 of Lover Forbidden (The Black Dagger Brotherhood #23)

Exactly what the hell time was it, Qhuinn wondered, hours later.

As he emerged from the break room’s stairwell and stepped out on the main floor of V’s facility, he had a coffee in his hand and a—oh, look, it was another Danish.

He’d had no idea what he’d ended up taking out of the display of food down there, but evidently, his subconscious had been front and center enough to remember that the cherry from earlier last evening had been fucking amazing.

He shoved the pastry into his mouth and sipped on the mug as he glanced out at the empty workstations.

The place had been totally vacated about an hour ago, everybody except the Brotherhood—who remained downstairs—sent home for the day through the escape tunnel to keep things quiet.

And now? The silence was interrupted only by random beeps and whirs from all the unmanned computers.

Refocusing on what mattered, he stared at the tableau next to Allhan’s desk.

The male was under a mismatch of blankets, his body four times the size it had been, his face drawn in new lines that were pretty fucking handsome as it turned out.

The best news, though, was that the kid was breathing, and a lot of his pain was in the rear view.

Right by his head, as she had been all night, Lyric was practically asleep on her proverbial feet. But her eyes, though they were half-mast, did not leave the male she had so heroically helped.

He was alive only because of her.

Qhuinn still couldn’t believe how it had all gone down, the knocking that had interrupted the meeting with the King, everybody pulling guns on the IT specialist who’d rushed over on foot, a stammering, fucked-up mess as he’d said the same name over and over again.

Allhan.

No one had seen Vishous run that fast, and for once, the brother hadn’t been texting out various commands on his phone for whatever he needed. Too frantic. As the Brotherhood had piled into the barn, V had crashed through the workstations, knocking over monitors on his way.

And then Qhuinn had done a little OMGing of his own.

The last thing he’d expected was to find his daughter on her knees, her wrist scored, her voice so commanding as she ordered Allhan to take her vein.

She had taken control of the dire situation all on her own, and as Vishous had stared down at her in utter, dumbfounded shock, Qhuinn had felt an echo of that himself. There were a lot of things that he associated with Lyric. Kindness, elegance, beauty, warmth, loyalty.

But assertiveness was just not something intrinsic to her nature.

Coming back to the present, he glanced at V, who hadn’t moved from the young male, either. In spite of the stress, the brother had not smoked even one cigarette since the change started. Though vampires did not get cancer, Allhan’s new lungs needed a little time to fully mature.

So it was either nicotine withdrawal or all the adrenaline ebbing off that was making those normally steady hands shake so badly.

Doc Jane had come by the second things had gotten rolling, to check vitals and worry over Allhan. She was momentarily back at the clinic now to pick up some pain meds. It was tricky, though. Too much and you could slow respiration, she’d said. Sometimes, suffering just had to be borne—

“When will he be out of the woods?” Lyric asked in a rough voice.

Qhuinn opened his mouth to answer, but V got there first—as he should have. The brother was not only a medic, he was, for all intents and purposes, the abandoned male’s father.

“We’re getting there.” V passed his gloved hand down his face, then smoothed his goatee. “You saved his life.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that—”

“I do.” V offered his dagger hand. “I owe you, true.”

Lyric stared down at the palm that was in front of her as if she’d never seen one before. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I owe you a debt for saving his life. Period.”

Tentatively reaching out, she shook his hand. “That’s really not necessary.”

As was his way, her uncle V didn’t argue with her—but not because he wasn’t into confrontation. The fucker loved conflict. No, he’d stated his point and that was that. Lyric’s opinion on the matter was irrelevant.

When she looked up Qhuinn’s way, as if she couldn’t believe what was happening, he smiled as his chest swelled.

There were few greater things in life than when your kid impressed someone important.

It made you feel like you hadn’t fucked them up, after all.

And also that you had done a very, very good thing in bringing them into the world.

Qhuinn went over and knelt down next to her. Glancing at the raw wound on her wrist, he felt a spike of concern. “Do you need anything?”

Smothering a yawn, she shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m just a little tired.”

“You should go crash,” V said. “You need a rest—”

“I’m not leaving,” she shot back, “until he stands up on his own and walks out of here.”

As V chuckled with respect, Qhuinn had to ask: “How did you know? To come here when you did?”

Her blue and her green irises, identical to his own, shifted away, and she hesitated.

“I, ah… I’d come to apologize, actually.

” Lyric cleared her throat. “The night that billboard fell, he’d come to visit me at Bathe.

He was very sweet to do that—but this woman who I’d hired was rude to him and he left in a hurry.

I chased after him, right into the middle of Market Street, where I…

well, you know what happened. So, yes, I came here because I wanted to thank him and make that apology happen—”

“Not… necessary…”

They all focused on Allhan. The male had come around and was staring at Lyric. “It’s… all right.”

Qhuinn watched as his daughter leaned down and stroked some of the dark hair off the male’s sweated brow.

“No, it’s not.” Her smile was gentle. “But something tells me, nobody’s ever writing you off again. I can’t wait to see what you think of your new body.”

“For… truth?”

Lyric nodded and took his hand. “I think you’re going to like what you see, my friend. I really do.”

“Thank you…”

“You’d have done the same for me. In a heartbeat.”

As the two continued to talk softly, Qhuinn looked over at V. The brother glanced up at the same time, and as their eyes met, it was weird. They’d bonded a lot over the years, what with the fighting and the stress and the camaraderie that just happened among the members of the Brotherhood.

The sudden connection that linked them now, though, was something different.

His kid had been good to V’s, and that was an even deeper level, wasn’t it.

From Shuli’s recline in his own bed, he put his hand out to his side table and picked up his vintage rose-gold AP Royal Oak. As he looked at the dial, he groaned.

“What’s the matter,” L.W. said next to him. “Not drunk enough to sleep?”

He glanced across his mountain of pillows. The heir to the throne was stretched out next to him on the enormous king-sized mattress. The pair of them had been propped against his headboard and watching movies since they’d decided to pair up and commit their own kind of treason.

Nothing like some felony-level insurrection to bring two guys closer.

The current viewing selection—the old-school, evergreen favorite Aliens— was playing quietly, Sigourney Weaver locking into a giant cargo mover that was like a transformer suit.

“You still awake, too, sunshine?” He pushed himself up a little higher. “I could have sworn you were snoring—or was that just your trademark dark, brooding menace escaping out of your nose instead of every pore.”

“Oh, fuck off,” the male said with exhaustion.

The good news? Sleep or no sleep, they were both on the mend. One of the many advantages for vampires over humans was the healing. If they’d been among those rats without tails, they’d have been hung up recovering from their wounds for weeks.

Instead, they could probably go out into the field as they were. It wouldn’t be smart, but—

“We’re going to have to bring someone else in on this.” Shuli went back to looking at the TV, which dropped down out of the ceiling. “And shut up. We can’t go this alone, and you know it. We need one more person.”

When there was no reply, he rolled his eyes, figuring His Royal High Horse had devolved into his characteristic grrrrrr . Except Shuli knew he was right. He was going to require some help in the field, especially if L.W.’s vision problems were worse than the guy was saying.

Or worse than he thought—

“Okay.”

Slowly turning his head again, Shuli cocked a brow. “I’m sorry—I didn’t hear you.”

The guy shrugged and glared at the TV.

Shuli cupped his ear. “Hello?”

“Fineyoureright. Now fuck off.”

He chuckled and took a long, deep, satisfying stretch. “You know something, I don’t want to get kinky, but goddamn, that’s a real turn-on. You can whisper that in my ear anytime you want.”

“You are so fucking weird.”

“I’m good with that, too.” He got serious. “It can’t be Nate, though. He’s mated. I trust him with my life, but he has too much to lose now.”

There was only a heartbeat of silence:

“Rhamp.”

“Rhamp.”

Like there was any kind of question?

Shuli went for his phone to hit the guy up—and found that all kinds of texts had come in on all kinds of group chats. His heart dropped. Lots of notifications were never a good thing. Opening things up, he—

The scrolling was fast. The impact was a punch in the gut.

Lyric… had fed Allhan and seen him through his change.

“What is it?” L.W. demanded.

“Ah, nothing.” He tried to focus on the little screen. “Nothing—hey, Allhan’s through his transition safely. Good news, right?”

“Obviously,” L.W. said on a dry note. Then, with suspicion, “You okay over there?”

“Oh, yeah. I like the guy. Really glad Lyric could help him out. I mean, her blood’s so pure, and all. Would have been my choice—for him. For Allhan. To be given the best chance. So, yup. Rhamp.”

Right. What was the question—

He all-thumb’d his way through a text to the guy and then put the phone facedown between him and his partner in crime.

Immediately, he picked the thing back up. “You hungry?”

He didn’t wait for an affirmative, just started texting Willhis. One thing he did like about His Royal Disapproval was that the guy would eat anything. French fries. French cuisine. Sushi. Italian. Whatever was good.

“Yeah. Whatever you like.”

Bingo , Shuli thought as he kept going with the order. Just because it gave him something, anything, to focus on.

When he got a text back, he reported, “Rhamp’s coming over now.”

When he got a grunt in return, he let that stand, and tried not to think about Lyric and Allhan and feeding and…

everything. That went nowhere—big surprise—so he reached into the bedstand’s drawer and took out a hand-rolled red smoke.

He had to futz around some more for his gold lighter, and when he finally got the thing, he kicked up a little flame and—

“You got two of those?” L.W. asked.

He passed the lit roll over and got another for himself. “There’s an ashtray in the drawer on your side, too.”

The knock on the door came as L.W. was fishing around in the side table next to him, the cursing something you could have added a beat to and thrown on Spotify.

“Come in!” Shuli called out around the f-bombs. “And for crissakes, use mine. God, what are you, blind—”

As L.W. shot a glare his way, he exhaled a stream of red smoke. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“That’s not funny—”

“You think I don’t know that, asshole—”

Over at the door, Rhamp walked in wearing head-to-toe Adidas because clearly, he was feeling some bumps and bruises from the night before, too. With a Dos Equis in one hand and some kind of egg roll in the other, he looked like was at the frat version of a cocktail party.

He stopped as soon as he was across the threshold. “Well. Ain’t this cozy.”

“Close the door behind you.” Shuli motioned. “And we’re about to eat. You want some?”

The guy lifted up his beer. “Willhis got me on the way in, but yeah, I’m good for more food.” That shrewd stare narrowed. “Wait a minute, what’s going on. The last time I saw you guys shoulder to shoulder was never.”

“Shut the door,” L.W. commanded. “We gotta talk to you.”

Rhamp looked at the heir to the throne. Looked back at Shuli.

Then he took three steps backwards and elbowed things closed. In a low, even voice, he said, “So it’s like that, is it.”

“You’re going to want to sit down for this,” Shuli murmured as he indicated the end of the bed with his hand-rolled. “And it goes without saying that this is not for anybody else’s ears.”

“Great,” Rhamp muttered as he took a swig of his beer. “More fun with the two of you is just what I’m looking for.”