Her eyes popped wide, and she put her hand to her mouth. Just as Blay began to worry they were going to have to go into her mind and calm her, she spoke.
“You’re Luke’s brother. Aren’t you.”
* * *
As soon as that door opened, Qhuinn took in every detail of the woman and the apartment behind her. And then she said words he couldn’t immediately translate into meaning.
When they clicked, he was overcome with emotion.
“Yes,” he replied roughly. “I am his brother.”
She stepped back and indicated the way inside with a hand that trembled. “Please.”
Qhuinn let Blay go first, and then he hesitated on the threshold. Before he followed his mate, he ducked a hand into his jacket and made sure he had the letters and the Scotch tape ball.
“Won’t you sit down,” she said formally as the door clapped shut behind them all.
The sofa was the only place to park it, so he and Blay went over even though the last thing Qhuinn wanted was to get physically trapped. He felt a buzzy need to run—although not to get away. He had nervous energy that was hard to contain.
“May I offer you something to drink?”
Qhuinn narrowed his eyes. There was a regal posture to her in spite of her casual clothes and modest surroundings, and he could see Luchas approving of that. But she was a human; she was very definitely of the other species.
“No, we’re good,” he said. “Thank you.”
She went across to a shallow kitchen area and brought over one of the three chairs that were around a little table.
Sitting down, she put her hands in her lap. “You’ve come to tell me he’s dead, haven’t you.”
Qhuinn leaned forward on the couch and plugged his elbows into his knees. Wiping his face with his palm, he nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
&nbs
p; As she closed her eyes and sagged, Qhuinn felt a communion with her, a deep, abiding connection in which he found a curious relief.
He had to clear his throat. “Listen, it feels inappropriate to have to ask this, but how did you know him? Is it okay for me to ask that?”
She took a deep breath. “I haven’t seen him for over three years. Is that when he died?”
Qhuinn’s mind chewed over responses. And in the end, he went with: “Yes.”
Because his brother had been killed in the raids. That was not a lie. And was he really prepared to tell her the whole true story?
“What happened to him?” she asked. “How did he pass?”
“It was natural causes.” Or a snow murder, depending on who you asked.
“You look like him.” She smiled wanly and then swept him from head to toe with her eyes. “Well, you’re different, too.”
“I am. But I loved him and he loved me.”
Anna Sophia cleared her own throat. “He was easy to love. He was such a good man. I am…”
“Here,” Blay said, leaning forward with his handkerchief.
The woman took what was offered and patted at her face. Then she was quiet for a long while. Just as Qhuinn was about to jump out of his skin, she spoke again.
“We met when I was taking a night class in English literature here at the college.” She unfolded and refolded the kerchief. “He was in the same class. It ran from six to nine in the evening for twelve weeks.”