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Luchas had been dead for nearly twenty-four hours then frozen in the snow in that black robe. Just no one had known it yet.

Abruptly, Qhuinn had a chilling thought. How many other horrible truths were lurking around the corners of time, waiting to jump out into his path and ruin his sense that life was okay? Disease, an errant bullet in the field, someone else’s choices that cratered his own—

Lyric let out a string of babble, and Blay’s stare went over to her.

“It’s our bath night,” Qhuinn said roughly. “I didn’t want you to miss it.”

“I am so glad you texted me.”

Blay kicked off his loafers and came in on bare feet. Lowering himself down at the other end of the tub, he cupped some water and poured it over Rhamp’s shoulders.

“Have you done shampoo?” he asked.

Even as the question was posed, Qhuinn knew his mate was already well aware of the answer. Blay would have smelled the Aveeno if it had been used… but sometimes, when there was too much to say, words were hard to come by.

So you just tossed some out there because it was the best you could do.

“No, not yet.” Qhuinn nodded at the baby wash. “Do you want the bottle?”

“Sure.”

Qhuinn passed the thing over. “Where did your socks go?”

“What?” Blay looked at his feet. “Oh. Um… they’re around somewhere.”

“You never wear socks in the summer with those shoes. In the winter, you always do.”

“I was unaware of being so consistent.”

“It’s one of your best traits.” Qhuinn patted the water with his palm in front of Lyric, and in response, she mimicked him. “And not one of mine. I’m sorry I pushed you away. Down in the foyer.”

“There’s no need to apologize.”

“Yes, there is. I just… I wasn’t in my right mind.”

However, he had no regrets about lashing out at the angel. Every time he thought about Luchas’s choice unfairly locking the male out of the Fade, he felt that fury threaten to return.

“It’s okay,” Blay said as he flipped the baby blue

top open. “I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now.”

“Neither can I.” Lyric grabbed his thumb and played at the surface of the tub with his hand. “Sorry, that makes no sense, does it. I mean… I’m not even sure where I am at the moment. That’s why it’s good to have bath time. I know bath time.”

The Aveeno made a whoopee cushion noise as Blay squeezed the bottle over Rhamp’s head, and the young laughed and reached for it.

“Close the top and let him have it,” Qhuinn said. “Let’s see what he does with the thing.”

Sure enough. Right in the mouth.

“Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best idea. Should have seen that coming.”

“I don’t think it can hurt him,” Blay hedged.

“Neither do I.”

Blay sat up on his knees and got with the washing program, sudsing up that dark cap of hair, rinsing things with the soft pitcher that was pink. Then it was time for the washcloth, Rhamp’s sturdy little body getting a vigorous scrubbing.

“She took them to see him,” Qhuinn murmured.


Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy