Black Dagger Brotherhood 11 - Lover at Last (27 page)

holding his cellular device, he was waiting for a call—and that explained why he was where he was.

The only place you could get a phone signal down below was standing beneath one of the two

trapdoors: The panels of them were made of wood, and the steel mesh that had been tacked

underneath had been the only alteration made when they had chased off the vagrant humans, sealed up the exterior floors, and moved in.

That way, vampires couldn’t materialize down below.

And shit knew humans weren’t strong enough to pry open those six-inch-thick wooden boards—

The tinkling noise that emanated from their leader’s phone was far too civilized for the environs,

the false bell sounding out cheerfully sure as a wind chime tickled by a spring breeze.

Xcor stopped and looked at the phone as he let it ring once more. Twice more.

Clearly, the male did not want to appear as if he had been waiting.

When he finally answered and put the phone to his ear, his chin lifted and his body calmed. He

was back in control.

“Elan,” he said smoothly. There was a pause. And then those always low brows went all the way

down. “At what date and time?”

Zypher sat up.

“The king called it?” Silence. “No, not at all. Only the Council would be allowed, at any rate. We

shall remain on the periphery—at your request.”

The last part was spoken with no small amount of irony, although it was doubtful that the

aristocrat on the other end of the conversation picked up on that. From what little Zypher had seen and heard from Elan, son of Larex, he was less than impressed. Then again, the weak were easily

manipulated, and Xcor well knew this.

“There is something you should know, Elan. An attempt was made upon Wrath’s life in the fall—

and be not surprised if there is an implication against myself and my soldiers at this forthcoming

meeting—what? It occured at Assail’s, actually—but any other specifics are not relevant. So, indeed, one can surmise that Wrath is calling the gathering for the purpose of exposing me and mine—recall

that I have warned you of such? Just remember that you have been utterly protected. The Brothers and the king do not know of our relationship—that is, unless one of your gentlemales has reported it in some manner to them. We, however, have remained tight-lipped. Further, know also that I am not

afraid of being branded a traitor or becoming a target for the Brotherhood. I realize, however, that you are of a far more cultured and refined sensibility, and not only do I respect this, I shall do all in my power to insulate you from any brutality.”

Uh-huh, right, Zypher thought with an eye roll.

“You must remember, Elan, you are protected.”

As Xcor smiled more widely, it was with a full show of fangs, as if he were on the verge of

latching onto the other male’s throat and tearing out his windpipe.

Good-byes were said shortly thereafter, and then Xcor ended the call.

Zypher spoke up. “All is well?”

Their leader’s head turned on the top of his spine, and as their eyes met, Zypher felt sorry for the idiot on the phone…and for Wrath and the Brotherhood.

The light in his leader’s stare was pure evil. “Oh, aye. All is very well indeed.”

TWENTY-FIVE

As the sound of unanswered ringing came through the landline, Blay held the receiver to his

ear and sat down on the edge of his bed. This was weird. His parents should have been home

this time of the night. It was so close to dawn—

“Hello?” his mother said, finally.

Blay exhaled long and slow, and shifted himself back against the headboard. Folding the bottom

of his robe over his legs, he cleared his throat. “Hi, it’s me.”

The happiness that suffused the voice on the other end made him feel warm in his chest. “Blay!

How are you! Let me get your father so he can hop on the other extension—”

“No, wait.” He closed his eyes. “Let’s just…talk. You and me.”

“Are you okay?” He heard the sound of a chair streaking across a bare floor—and knew right

where she was: at the oak table in her precious kitchen. “What’s going on. You haven’t been hurt,

have you?”

Not on the inside. “I’m…okay.”

“What is it?”

Blay rubbed his face with his free hand. He and his parents had always been close—ordinarily,

there was nothing that he didn’t talk to them about, and this breakup with Saxton was exactly the kind of thing he’d usually bring up: He was upset, confused, disappointed, a little depressed…all the usual emotional stuff he and his mom processed in a two-way street of phone calls.

As he stayed silent, however, he was reminded that there was, in fact, one thing he had never

broached with them. One very big thing…

“Blay? You’re scaring me.”

“I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

True enough.

He supposed he hadn’t come out to them with respect to his sexual orientation because your love

life was not something most people shared with their parents. And maybe there was also a part of

him, however illogical it was, that worried about whether or not they would look at him differently.

Take out the maybe.

After all, the
glymera’s
policy on homosexuality was pretty clear: provided you were never overt about it, and you mated someone of the opposite sex like you were supposed to, you wouldn’t be

expelled for your perversion.

Yeah, ’cuz getting hitched to someone you weren’t attracted to or in love with, and lying to them

about sustained infidelity, was so much more honorable than the truth.

But God help you if you were a male and had a boyfriend on the up-and-up—as he had had for the

last twelve months or so.

“I…ah, I broke up with someone.”

Annnnd now it was crickets on his mother’s side. “Really?” she said after a moment, like she was

shocked, but trying to keep from showing it.

You think that’s a surprise, guess what’s coming next, Mom, he thought.

Because, holy shit, he was going to…

Wait, was he really going to do this now, over the phone? Shouldn’t it be in person?

What exactly was the protocol here?

“Yes, I, ah…” He swallowed hard. “I’ve been in a relationship for most of the past year,

actually.”

“Oh…my.” The hurt in her tone stung him. “I—we—your father and I never knew.”

“I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

“Do we know her? Or her family?”

He closed his eyes, his chest compressing. “Ah…you know the family. Yes.”

“Well, I’m very sorry it didn’t work out. Are you okay…? How did it end?”

“It just died, to be honest.”

“Well, relationships are so very difficult. Oh, my love, my dearest heart—I can hear how sad you

are. Would you like to come home and—”

“It was Saxton. Qhuinn’s cousin.”

There was a sharp inhale over the connection.

As his mother went utterly silent, Blay’s arm started shaking so badly he could barely hold the

phone.

“I…I, ah…” His mother swallowed hard. “I didn’t know. That ah, you…”

He finished what she could not in his head:
I didn’t know that you are one of
those
people.

Like gays were social lepers.

Oh, hell. He shouldn’t have said a thing. Not
one
fucking thing about this. Goddamn it, why did he have to blow his whole life up at the same time? Why couldn’t his first real lover break up with

him…and then he’d wait a couple of years, maybe a decade, before he came out to his parents and

they shut him down? But noooooo, he had to—

“Is that why you’ve never talked about who you were with?” she asked. “Because…”

“Maybe. Yes…”

There was a sniffle. And then a hitched breath.

Her disappointment coming over the connection was too much to bear, the crushing weight settling

on his chest and rendering it impossible to breathe.

“How could you—”

He rushed to cut her off, because he couldn’t bear to have her sweet voice say the words.

“
Mahmen
, I’m sorry. Look, I didn’t mean it, okay? I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just—”

“What have I or we ever done—”

“
Mahmen
, stop. Stop.” In the pause that followed, he thought about quoting her some Lady Gaga, and backing it up with a whole lot of it’s-not-your-fault, you’ve-done-nothing-wrong-as-a-parent

stuff. “
Mahmen
, I just—”

He broke down at that point, weeping as quietly as he could. The sense that in his mother’s view,

he had let down his family just by being who he was…was a failure of acceptance that he was never

going to get over. He just wanted to live, honestly and out front, with no apology. Like everyone else.

To love who he loved, be who he was…but society had a different standard, and as he had always

feared, his parents were a part of that—

Dimly, he was aware of his mother speaking to him, and he struggled to pull it together and end

the call—

“…to make you think you couldn’t come to us with this? That it’s something that would change

how we feel about you?”

Blay blinked as his brain translated what he’d just heard into some language that made any kind of

sense. “I’m sorry…? What?”

“Why have you…what did we do to make you feel that anything about you would make you

somehow…diminished in our eyes?” She cleared her throat, as if she were gathering herself. “I love

you. You are my heart beating outside of my chest. I don’t care who you are mated to, or whether they have blond hair or black hair, blue or green eyes, male or female parts—as long as you are happy,

that’s all I worry about. I want for you what you want for yourself. I love you, Blaylock—I love you.”

“What…are you saying…”

“
I love you
.”

“
Mahmen
…” he croaked, tears forming again.

“I just wish you hadn’t told me over the phone,” she muttered. “I’d like to hug you right now.”

He laughed in an ugly, sloppy way. “I didn’t mean to. I mean, I didn’t plan this. It just came out.”

Funny choice of words, he thought.

“And I’m sorry,” she said, “that things didn’t work out with Saxton. He’s a very nice gentlemale.

Are you sure it’s over?”

Blay scrubbed his face as reality recalibrated itself, the love he’d always known clearly still with him. In spite of the truth. Or maybe…because of it.

In moments like this, he felt like the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

“Blay?”

“Sorry. Yeah, sorry. About Saxton…” He thought about what he’d done in that office down in the

training center when he’d been alone. “Yes,
Mahmen
, it’s over. I’m very sure.”

“Okay, so here’s what you have to do. You take some time and do some healing. You’ll know

when you’ve done enough. Then you have to be open to meeting somebody new. You are such a catch,

you know.”

And here she was, telling him to go meet another guy.

“Blay? Did you hear me? I don’t want you to spend your life alone.”

He mopped his face again. “You are the best mother on the planet, you know that.”

“So when are you coming home to see me. I want to cook for you.”

Blay relaxed into the pillows, in spite of the fact that his head was starting to ache—likely

because even though he was alone, he’d still tried to hold things together during his crying jag. Likely also because he still hated where he was with Qhuinn. And he still missed Saxton in a way—because

it was hard to sleep alone.

But this was good. This…honesty went a long way for him—

“Wait, wait.” He sat upright off the pillows. “Listen, I don’t want you to say anything to Dad.”

“Dearest Virgin Scribe, why not?”

“I don’t know. I’m nervous.”

“Honey, he’s not going to feel any differently than I do.”

Yeah, but as the only born son and the last of the bloodline…and with the whole father/son

thing…“Please. Let me tell him face-to-face.” Oh, like that didn’t make him want to throw up. “I

should have done that with you. I’ll come as soon as I’m off rotation—I don’t want to put you in the position of keeping something from him—”

“Don’t worry about that. This is your information—you have the right to share it with people

whenever and however you want. I would appreciate your doing it soon, though. Under normal

circumstances, your father and I tell each other everything.”

“I promise.”

There was a lull in the conversation. “So tell me about work—how’s it going?”

He shook his head. “
Mahmen
, you don’t want to hear about that.”

“Sure I do.”

“I don’t want you to think my job is dangerous.”

“Blaylock, son of my beloved
hellren
, exactly what kind of an idiot do you think I am?”

Blay laughed and then got serious. “Qhuinn flew an airplane tonight.”