Surface compatibility thus being assigned deeper connective meaning.
But in fact, you didn't know someone until you knew them. What was that saying? Unless you traveled with somebody, you had no idea who they truly were...
Knowing them for a decade was even better.
The truth was, Ruhn didn't know him any better, either. The male had no knowledge of his relationship with Blay, his troubles with his sire, his background and struggle. And this stuff about Ruhn's past? It was absolutely horrific, and he hated that the male had gone through it. But he had to acknowledge that he'd rather liked the idea of protecting a shy, quiet, sensitive soul in the world, being the guardrail and interpreter of new and different experiences.
Over dinner, for example, he'd planned in his head all kinds of other places he could take Ruhn to eat, Vietnamese, Thai, Italian. And in spite of what he'd promised, all of the restaurants would have been way outside of Ruhn's price range to afford.
In his mind, he'd looked forward to providing all those exclusive new tastes and tempting treats.
There was control in bringing another out of their shell, wasn't there. Safety, because they relied on you in their unfamiliarity and inevitable discomfort.
Now, after what he'd witnessed in that fight, all that fantastical noblesse oblige on his part had to be recast. The gentle giant had been through torture, and anyone who could survive the likes of that did not need protection by anyone.
Lowering his head into his hands, he thought, wow, it was a good thing people didn't share their inner musings with anybody else.
Because this kind of truth-telling was best kept under lock and key: He was an utter asshole to be worried about his little psychological dramas in comparison with what that male had lived through. Ten years, in a cage? Killing males or being killed? Getting marked?
Saxton had never been through anything like that, and the idea that Ruhn's past was suddenly making this romance thing between them much too real was too ugly to contemplate.
I cannot have my dignity if I lie to someone I'm falling in love with.
Talk about courage. To say that and mean it?
With a curse, Saxton got to his feet. He had no memory of when he'd taken off his coat, but he found it in a chair next to where he'd been staring off into space.
As he pulled the thing on, he went into the parlor and looked over to the fireplace, to those tiles that lined the hearth. He tried to imagine Minnie and her hellren traveling all the way across the ocean to an unknown land with the specter of the sun looming every day, little money to their name, and nothing but love to shield them.
That was courage.
Shaking his head, he went back to the kitchen, and set the alarm on the panel by the door into the garage; then he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Eventually, he managed to dematerialize and leave in a scatter of molecules through the tiny seam in that weather stripping.
He resumed form all the way across town, miles away, on the rear stoop of the Audience House. As he entered through the kitchen door, his brain totally flatlined. There were some doggen around, doing...God only knew what...and he had some kind of interaction with them. Questions asked and answered, this type of thing.
And then he was in his office. The King was taking the night off, but there were still things to be filed and paperwork to be done...also the stuff that Wrath had called about...
Or had that been a different night? Another time?
Some other...
Sitting down, he put his head in his hands and tried to remember what had been said about which things when. But there was no piecing together the thoughts, no cognitive map materializing out of the soup of confusion to help him march his way back to an even nominal functioning.
A knock on the doorjamb brought his head up. "Oh. Hello."
As the Brother Rhage entered, he filled the entirety of the office with his preternatural beauty and incredible size and bracing charisma. It was like Ryan Reynolds, the Jolly Green Giant from those frozen-vegetable ads, and twelve world leaders had rolled into one being and come in for a little chat.
"You look like shit," the Brother said as he sat down on the other side of the partner's desk. "What's going on?"
"Oh, nothing. Did you need something?"
"Not really. I came to drop off more of George's teeth-cleaning thingies. Don't tell Fritz. He'll freak--but I was going by Petco--what the hell is wrong with you? I'm serious. You've got a death mask going on."
As Saxton tried to find a place to start, a thread in the tangle to begin the unraveling, Rhage took a cherry Tootsie Pop out of his leather jacket and peeled the wrapper.
"Hello? Have you stroked out on me over there?" Rhage's teeth were brilliant white as he opened his mouth to fit the lollipop in between his sharp fangs. "You want I get you a doctor?"
"Actually, what I need is..." Saxton cleared his throat. "I'm not sure I should be talking to you about this."
He didn't want to do anything to jeopardize Bitty and her adoptive parents' relationship with Ruhn. But who else could he go to?
"And I don't want this to change anything," he tacked on.
Rhage shrugged. "Well, considering I don't know what you're about to say, I'm not sure I can promise anything. But I'm good at the open-minded stuff. I mean, shit, I put up with Lassiter almost better than anyone else. Okay. Fine, better than Vishous. Wait, that probably isn't saying much. What was the question?"
"It's about Ruhn."
Rhage ditched the levity. "What about him?"
"His past. Specifically."
Instantly, the Brother changed, his big body sitting up, his eyes narrowing, the Tootsie Pop getting a hard crunch of some tense molars.
"What about it?"
Saxton picked a pen out of his holder and fiddled with the thing, twisting its cap in circles. Popping the cap off. Putting it back on.
"I know that Phury and Vishous went down there." Saxton looked up. "To his old master's estate. They found out about his background."
"They did."
"And so you know what happened to him."
There was a pause. "Yeah. The fight ring. But how did you hear about it? We were keeping a lid on it out of respect for him."
"He told me." Saxton shook his head. "I don't know how anyone lives through something like that."
Rhage sat back and stared across the desk, those Bahamian blue eyes so bright, they nearly cast shadows. "Can I ask you something personal?"
"Of course."
"Are you thinking of dating him or something?" As Saxton stiffened, the Brother shrugged. "It's cool if you are. I mean, I know he didn't have a female or anything down at his place, and he's never been mated."
"I don't know how to answer that."
"So it's a yes. And hey, I only ask because I'm curious. I can't think of any other reason why you'd bring this up. If he were just a guard for you, I figure you'd be glad he had the experience, even if the way he got it was extreme."
"I don't want to put you in an awkward position."
"But you want to know if he's going to kill you in your sleep, right?" As Saxton stammered, Rhage put up a hand. "Mary psych-tested him. I mean, Bitty invited him to live with us, and we were more than willing--because hello, he's our daughter's nearest blood relative. But with Wrath, Beth, and little Wrath in the house, we couldn't take chances. Mary gave him the tests orally as naturally he couldn't read them. He passed all the screenings. He's bog standard, non-psychotic. She said he has a boatload of PTSD, of course. I mean, after what he'd been through, how could you not have it. And I don't know...after tonight? With him attacking those humans? Maybe this guarding you stuff is not a good place for him to be."
"Indeed."
"He's a good male, though. I trust him. And I know you're not usually around when he's with Bitty, but you should see them together. Every day before she goes to bed, the two of them come upstairs. There's this puzzle table that we set up in her room, you know? The pair of them sit
there and work on puzzles--frankly, that shit makes me crazy. I mean, you want to talk about psychotic. Hello. Sitting with eight million tiny pieces that you can't pick up with your fingers, trying to match the colors--but I digress." He crunched the Tootsie Pop and started chewing. "They love it. And all the time? In this quiet voice, he tells her stories of her mahmen and her grandparents. What it was like growing up--it sounded like a great life. In the country, playing outside, horses and sheep, a mahmen and father who loved Ruhn and his sister so much. And Bitty, she eats it up. He's given her the side of the family that helps her feel like her mahmen is still with her. It's priceless. It really is." Rhage laughed a little. "And come to think of it, it's pretty much the only time I hear him talk."
Saxton nodded. "I'm so glad they have that connection. And yes, from what I have seen, they are very close."
"Ruhn's like a son to me. For real."
"I just never expected...well, I didn't expect everything that happened to him."
"Who would?" Rhage tossed the white stick with its pink stain on one end in the trash. "And listen, I've already talked to Mary about what went down tonight. She's going to pay Ruhn a little visit. See if he needs a tune-up, so to speak. She helped Z a lot with his shit, so tragically, she has some experience dealing with trauma."
"I don't judge him." As Saxton spoke, he realized he was trying the words out, seeing if they were true--and that made him feel like a bad person.
"Good. Because you shouldn't. And you shouldn't be afraid of him, either. Everyone deserves second chances. I am living proof of it."
"You're right. And what happened to him was nothing he volunteered for."
"Too right."
"I feel like I'm in mourning on his behalf."
"Anyone who's heard the story feels the same way."
Will my heart be safe with him, Saxton wondered to himself.
And to be fair, that was a question he would be asking no matter who he was contemplating a relationship with.
"I wish I could see into the future," he murmured.
"There are certain corners in life where that would be a nice bonus. I wish I could help you more."
"Thank you." Saxton smiled. "You are a gentlemale under all your bravado."
"Now let's not get ahead of ourselves."
After a moment, the Brother got up and sauntered out, leaving Saxton with his own thoughts.
After a while, he went to his file drawers. Getting down on his haunches in the far corner, he pressed his thumb to a sensor and sprang the lock. Documents pertaining to the Black Dagger Brotherhood and their families were kept there and he easily located Bitty's adoption papers.
Taking the file out, he opened the cover and flipped through to the last page, where Ruhn had "signed" his name.
The male had drawn a self-portrait of himself on the line where the signature was supposed to go.
It was a stunning rendering, and so realistic that Saxton ran his finger down the contours of the cheek and could swear he felt the warmth of the male himself.
For some reason, he thought of Blay and Qhuinn. From what he understood, Blay had always taken care of his partner, looked after him, made sure he was as stable as he could be. It had been an expression of love before that word had been shared between them.
The longer Saxton stared at that drawing, the more he realized why all of this with Ruhn was affecting him so.
He had the capacity to fall in love with the male.
And that meant the stakes were very high. He knew all too well what unrequited love felt like. This stuff with Ruhn? It had an even greater potential for destruction.
Novo saw the cane as a huge improvement. Come on, over the wheelchair? It also meant she'd skipped the walker stage.
Beating expectations was good, especially when you were in the vampire equivalent of cardiac rehab.
As she shuffled down the training center's corridor, she was keeping her pace at a solid geriatric, her feet in their hospital-issue shower shoes scuffing along with a minimal lift from the concrete floor. Everything was quiet, the Brothers elsewhere, the trainees gone home, the clinic empty of patients except for--
The disembodied howl that traveled out from the crazy guy was like a draft in the air, invisible and chilling.
She kept on going. She had made this trip a good ten times or so, even though she was pretty sure that Dr. Manello had only said once an hour. But really, she kept this up and she would hit that rate on average--provided she went against a two-week timetable.
He just needed to be more specific.
Coming up to the double doors into the gym, she looked through the chicken-wired glass. She couldn't wait to start sparring again.
Continuing on, she relied on the cane for balance, the wonky feeling more like an inner-ear problem than anything to do with her heart malfunctioning. They'd even sprung her of her IV, although she was wearing a Holter monitor to make sure her cardiac function was hunky-dory.
Glancing back, her room seemed like miles away. But fuck that. She went farther on. Eventually, a hundred and fifty years later, she came up to the pool's doors.
There was someone in there.
Craving company was as unfamiliar as this physical weakness she was rocking, and certainly the latter seemed to make the former more of a thing: Before she knew better, she was pushing her way into the little ante-hall and doing her old-lady dance over the tiles.
The scent of chlorine tingled in her nose and the warmth and humidity made her think of summer nights--
Splashing. And voices.
When she realized there was more than one person in the water, she nearly turned around. Except then she saw that it was Ehlena at the edge, the nurse crouching down and encouraging somebody who was trying to swim.
"Oh, hey, Novo!" the female called out with a wave. "Come talk with us!"
Novo checked to make sure the double-johnny situation she'd jury-rigged was covering her naughty bits in the back and then she caned her way forward. The tiled ring around the Olympic-sized pool was dry, so she didn't worry about slipping, and that heat and moisture helped ease the aches she still had in her ribs.
"Hi, Luchas," she said to the male hanging on the edge of the pool.
"Greetings," came the grunting reply.
His thin, deformed hands, with their missing fingers, were like claws on that lip, his frail body floating out behind him, his remaining leg churning through the water slowly.
He was so pale, and she had to look away from the hard cut of his shoulder blades under his thin skin.
"I wish I could join you," she said as she leaned on the cane and lowered herself down into a sit.
"Not with that monitor on, I'm afraid." Ehlena smiled. "But you're almost home free. You should be ready to go tomorrow."
"I can't wait." Novo kicked off her slippers and put one foot...and then the other in. "Oh, this feels good."
Luchas's workout created waves in the water, and she closed her eyes so that she could concentrate on the buffering sensations against her calves and the soles of her feet.
She also didn't want the male to feel like she was staring at him.
From what she understood, Qhuinn's brother had been abducted during the raids, and it had been assumed that he had been killed along with the rest of the bloodline. The truth had been more gruesome. The male had been found stuffed in an oil drum, surrounded by the Omega's blood. He'd been barely alive, and he'd had so many broken bones and missing parts, he'd been all but poured onto a gurney.
Although he'd been rescued some time ago, he had been living in the clinic ever since, not dead, but not particularly alive, either. Qhuinn always visited him, but there was no joy, no laughter, no prospects, it seemed. And for a young male that had once had a life of privilege, it was sad reality.
"Good job," Ehlena said to him. "Now that you're warmed up, let's work on arms."
"All right."
There was some splashing, and then the nurse coached the male thro
ugh various stretches and then some breaststrokes that crisscrossed the shallow end of the pool.
Luchas's concentration was complete, as if his life depended on his ability to follow directions and perform the movements--and certainly, if he stopped swimming, he would, in fact, sink. There was no fat on him.
Although she had seen him around the training center, she had never expected to have anything in common with him. But here they both were--except she was going to get better, and there was a chance he would be forever in this neither healthy nor dying netherworld: By tomorrow night, she was going to be walking normally, and in another twenty-four hours after that, she was going to be in the weight room, goddamn it. Luchas, on the other hand? It was hard to imagine him any different than he was now.
"I think I better head back," Novo said as she plugged her cane in and got to her feet.
"I'm glad you stopped by to see us." Ehlena lifted a hand. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Thank you--and I'll talk to you later, Luchas." Novo offered a little wave. "Take care."
"You as well," came the gruff reply.
The male didn't look up, and she was glad to leave. It was hard to be around somebody as infirmed as that when you yourself were rocky. It made you wonder why you were the one who got picked to get well whereas they were on the Leave Behind list.
Considering how much it mattered, the randomness of such good fortune was the kind of thing that bent your brain.
As she reemerged into the corridor, she shivered in the relative cold, and by the time she came up to her hospital room, she was done. Like, just having run a marathon done.
Back at her bed, she hung the cane off the foot and dragged herself onto the mattress. As loneliness settled over her like a toxic cloud, she was too tired to fight it--
Her cell phone rang on the rolling table she took her meals on and she turned her head to the sound. The thing was facedown, and she had absolutely no interest in checking to see who it was. She already knew. Her mahmen and her sister were livid that the bachelorette party, or whatever the hell it was called, was happening the following evening and Novo hadn't done shit with the preparations.
But come on. Thanks to Sophy, they had a reservation down at that place. What else did they need--oh, riiiiiiiiiiight, the goddamn sash, a crown and a scepter, feather boas.
The usual Instagrammable shit.