"We're not very good company," he said to Layla after a while. "Sorry. "
"I'm not either. " She smiled at him and then John. "But I am enjoying being out of the house. "
The waitress came back with the order, and everyone eased away from the table as glasses and plates and the cup and saucer were arranged.
Qhuinn snagged his tall glass as soon as the coast was clear. "So tell us about him. We can be trusted. "
Across the table, John looked like someone had goosed him in the ass, especially as Layla blushed.
"Come on. " Qhuinn took a pull off the black and tan. "It's obvious this is about a male, and John won't say a thing. "
John looked over at her and signed; then flashed Qhuinn the bird.
"He says, duh, he's a mute," Qhuinn translated. "And if you don't know what that final gesture was, I'm not going to be the one to tell you. "
Layla laughed and picked up her fork, cracking the hard top of the creme brulee. "Well, I've been waiting to see him again, actually. "
"So that's why you're hanging around?"
"Is it bad of me?"
"God, no. You're always welcome, you know that. Except who's the lucky guy?"
Or dead one, depending. . .
Layla drew in a deep, bracing breath, and took two mouthfuls of her first dessert - like the thing was a V&T. "Promise you shan't tell a soul?"
"Cross heart, hope to die, all that shit. "
"He's. . . one of your soldiers. "
Qhuinn lowered his glass to the table. "I'm sorry?"
She lifted her cup and sipped from the rim. "Remember when that fighter came into the training center back in the autumn - he'd been with you against the lessers? He was injured badly and you were taking care of him?"
As John sat up straight in alarm, Qhuinn swallowed his own case of the fucking-hells and smiled smoothly. "Oh, yeah. We remember him. "
Throe. Second lieutenant of the Band of Bastards.
Holy shit, if she thought she was into him, they had a huge problem.
"Annnnnd," he prompted, forcing his voice to stay level. Good thing he'd put the Guinness down - he was stressing enough to crush the glass.
Then again, he supposed shit could be worse. Throe wasn't going to be able to get anywhere near her -
"He called me to him. "
Layla started to pick at her moon pie, and good goddamn thing: He and John had both bared their fangs.
Humans, he reminded himself. They were out in public with humans. . . . Now was not the time for the canine display. But fuck. . .
"How?" he hissed - only to dial back. "I mean, you don't have a cell phone. How'd he reach you?"
"He summoned me. " As she waved her hand like that was no big deal, he told his inner caveman to pipe down, sonny. There would be time to sort the hows out later. "I went and there was another soldier - injured badly. Oh, God, he was beaten so badly. "
Tendrils of pure panic feathered across the back of his neck and pegged him in the chest, jacking his heart rate up. No. . . oh, shit. . . no -
"I don't understand why males are so pigheaded. I told them to bring him into the clinic, but they said he just needed to feed. He was having trouble breathing, and. . . " Layla fixated on the moon pie as if it were a screen, as if she were remembering every single thing that had happened. "I fed him. I wanted to care for him further, but the other soldier seemed in a hurry to take him away. He was. . . powerful, so powerful, even though he was hurt. And as he looked at me - I felt as though he was touching me. It was like nothing I've ever known before. "