Next door, John was doing the same, moving this way and that. Jacking himself up, pushing back.
When the mansion finally made an appearance out of the mhis, Qhuinn dreaded going inside. There didn't seem anything even remotely sexy or appealing about heading up to his room alone, jerking off once or twice, and then resuming his vigil in front of a dark TV screen.
I've got nothing of my own. Nothing. Even my service can be taken away from me.
Layla was so right about that: Although everyone made him welcome here, the bottom line was, he was allowed to hang because he served a purpose for John, as ahstrux nohtrum.
Like Layla, however, he could be fired.
And as for his future? He was certainly never going to be mated, because he wasn't going to condemn some female to a loveless union, and he was never going to have any young - although, considering his mismatched eyes, maybe that was a good thing.
Bottom line, he was staring down the barrel of countless centuries with no real home, no true family, no blood of his own.
As he rubbed a hand through his hair a
nd wondered whether there was any possibility his cock would magically deflate. . . he knew just what that Chosen meant when it came to empty.
Chapter Sixty
Xhex needed intel. Stat.
When Xcor had dematerialized away from her, he'd gone outside the scope of her radar within seconds. And yeah, she had a bead on his direction, but only an asshole wouldn't camo the way to his hideout.
Sure enough, as she followed what she could of him, she found herself stuck on the shores of the Hudson not far from her house: The trail got cold at that point, and not because the frigid north wind was blowing down the river.
She kicked a random snowdrift and paced around. Retraced her steps back to the theater district. Scanned the rest of the city, going rooftop to rooftop.
Nothing.
She ended up back on top of that building where she'd seen John and the others, stalking around and cursing like a sailor. In the absence of physical clues, she was forced to go with the only other thing she had: the drama outside that dessert place.
Taking out her phone, she texted John and waited. And waited. And. . . waited.
Did they get ambushed on the way back?
She texted again. Hit up Qhuinn - and got no reply.
Damn it, what if something had happened? Just because Xcor had appeared to leave the city, that didn't mean he couldn't cycle around and intersect iAm's SUV. Meanwhile, she was here chasing her tail like an idiot -
Just as she was about to start another round of near-panicked texting, John hit her back: @ hm safe. Srry wz dwn in clinic.
Dialing back on her chick-out, she took a deep breath and texted back: We need to talk about Layla. Let me come to the house.
It was possible that Qhuinn wouldn't want to leave the Chosen in her condition, and Xhex didn't want John to drag his ahstrux nohtrum out just for a meeting.
Instead of waiting for a response, she flashed herself over to the mansion and strode up the steps and into the vestibule. The inner door opened immediately, and Fritz appeared frazzled.
"Good evening, my lady. "
"What's wrong?"
The butler bowed and shuffled backward. "Oh, indeed. Yes. Whom are you here to see?"
There was a time when that wouldn't have been a question. "John. Is he at the clinic?"
"Oh. . . no. No, definitely not there. He is upstairs. "
Xhex frowned. "Is there any problem?"