As Qhuinn and John stared at her with studiously blank expressions, Layla straightened in the hard chair she was seated in.

Glancing around the restaurant, she saw only humans calmly enjoying little confections similar to what were on her plates - so it was hard to understand what was wrong.

"Is it something outside?" she whispered, leaning forward. Generally speaking, she found that humans were much the same as vampires - just trying to live their lives without interference. But these two males would know otherwise.

Qhuinn looked at her and smiled in a way that didn't reach his eyes. "After you fed the male, what did you do? What did they?"

She frowned, wishing they'd tell her what was wrong. "Ah... well, I tried to talk them into bringing him back to the training center. I figured since his comrade had been treated there, he could be as well."

"Do you believe that his injuries could have been fatal?"

"If I hadn't gotten there in time? Yes, I do. But he was looking better when I left. His breathing was much improved."

"Did you feed from him."

Now the tone in Qhuinn's voice was dire. To the point that, had the boundaries of their relationship not been well set, she might have thought he was jealous.

"No, I did not. You're the only person I've done that with."

The silence afterward told her more than the questions did. The problem was not the humans around them in the restaurant or outside on the streets.

"I don't understand," she said angrily. "He was in need and I took care of him. You of all people should not discriminate simply because he is a soldier and not of noble birth."

"Did you tell anyone where you were going that night? What you did there?"

"The Primale gives us free rein. I have been feeding and caring for fighters for a long time - it is what I do. It is my purpose. I don't understand - "

"Have you had any contact with them since then?"

"I was hoping... in truth, I had hoped either one or both would appear at the mansion in some official capacity so that I might see the wounded one again. But no, I haven't seen them." She pushed her plates away. "What is so wrong here?"

Qhuinn got to his feet and took out his money roll. Peeling off a couple of twenties, he tossed the bills onto the table. "We have to go back to the compound."

"Why are you being - " She dropped her voice as a few people looked over. "Why are you being like this?"

"Come on."

John Matthew stood up as well, his expression furious, his fists clenched, his jaw hard.

"Layla, come back with us. Now."

To avoid a scene, she rose up and followed them out into the cold air. But she had no intention of taking orders and dematerializing like a good little girl. If the pair of them were going to behave like this, they were damn well going to tell her why.

Planting her feet in the snow, she glared at the two males. "What is wrong with you?"

Her tone of voice was one that even a year ago she would have been shocked to hear coming out of her own mouth. But she was not the same female she had once been.

When neither of them replied, she shook her head. "I'm not budging from this stretch of sidewalk until you talk to me."

"We're not doing this, Layla," Qhuinn bit out. "I have to - "

"Unless you tell me what is going on here, the next time either of those soldiers contacts me, you'd better believe I'm going to see them - "

"Then you'd be a traitor, too."

Layla blinked. "I'm sorry - traitor?"

Qhuinn glanced over at John. When the male shrugged and threw up both his palms, there was a long stream of curses.

And then the earth fell out from beneath her feet: "I believe the male you fed is a soldier named Xcor. He is the leader of a rogue squadron of fighters colloquially called the Band of Bastards. And back in the fall, about the time you fed him, he made an attempt on Wrath's life."

"I'm... I'm sorry. What..." As she weaved on loose legs, John stepped in and held her up. "But how can you be sure..."

"I was the one who put those bruises on his face, Layla. I beat the shit out of him - so that Wrath could get home safely and have his gunshot wound treated. That's our enemy, Layla - sure as the Lessening Society is."

"The other - " She had to clear her throat. "The other soldier, though, the one who took me to him. He was in the training center. Phury brought me to feed him - with Vishous. They told me he was a soldier of worth."

"They said that? Or allowed you to believe that."

"But... if he was the enemy, why harbor him?"

"That's Throe, Xcor's second in command. He'd been left for dead by his boss - and we were going to be goddamned if he was dying on our watch."

John took out his cell phone with his free hand and texted quickly, but Layla wasn't tracking anything. Her lungs were burning, her head swimming, her gut twisting.

"Layla?"

Someone was calling out to her, but the panic that claimed her was the only thing she could connect with. As her heart hammered, and her mouth opened wide for air, a blackness descended upon her -

"Fucking hell, Layla!"

Working the rooftops of Caldwell, Xhex kept on Xcor at a distance, tracking him from alley to alley and district to district as he went up against slayers. From what little she saw, the male was an incredibly efficient fighter, that scythe of his doing some serious fucking work.

Damn shame he was a megalomaniac with delusions of the thronal variety.

At all times, she stayed a minimum of a block away. There was no reason to press her luck and run the risk of his tweaking to the fact that he was being followed. She had a feeling he knew, though. If the way he handled the enemy was any indication, he'd be smart enough to assume that Wrath and the Brotherhood would send emissaries out after him, and it wasn't like he was in hiding. He was an individual with a pattern within a limited geographic space: He fought in Caldwell. Every fucking night.

Hello.

As snowflakes began to swirl in the air, the male in question moved position, falling into a jog with his right-hand man, Throe, by his side. Staying on them, she dematerialized to another building. And another. And a third. Where were they going? she thought, as they left the fighting sector....

Half a mile or so later, Xcor paused down at street level, clearly trying to decide between left and right. As Throe came up next to him, angry words were exchanged. Maybe because Throe recognized they were headed in the wrong direction?

While they argued, she glanced at the sky. Checked her watch. Shit. Xcor was going to dematerialize at the end of the night, and that was how she was going to lose him. With her instincts roaming only so far, he was going to get out of range fast when he ghosted away.

But at least she had his grid now. And sooner or later, either he or one of his soldiers was going to get injured and have to be driven out of the city. It was inevitable - and that was how she was going to get them: a scattering of molecules she couldn't track. But a car, a van, a truck, an SUV - that was her way in. And shit knew they were months overdue for a goddamn injury.

Abruptly, Xcor went on the move again, heading around the building she was up on top of, calling her back into action. With grim intensity, she crunched through the crusted snow of the rooftop, circling with him, jogging by HVAC vents and other mechanicals. When she got to the other side, she -

John Matthew.

Shit, her John was not far. What the hell -

He'd told her he was staying home tonight because he was off rotation.

Who was he out with? Qhuinn had given up his man-whore ways... wrong part of the city for that, anyway. This was the theater district.

Dematerializing to the lip of the building, she looked down. Across the street, at the head of an alleyway, John was standing in the shadows, with Qhuinn and... Layla. Who was up off the ground in the former's arms, looking like she'd passed out?

Shiiiiit. Lot of drama down there. Big drama - the kind that was threatening to fritz out the Chosen's emotional grid altogether.

Scattering her molecules, Xhex re-formed in front of John, startling the bunch of them. "Is she okay?"

We're waiting for Butch, John signed.

"Is he on his way?"

He's tied up across town on cleanup. But we need him now.

Clearly. Whatever had happened here was deep.

"You can put me down now," Layla said gruffly.

Qhuinn just shook his head and kept holding her up off the snow.

"Look, iAm's not far." Xhex took out her cell and flashed it. "Will you let me call him?"

"Yeah, that'd be good," Qhuinn replied.

As she hit up the Shadow, she stared at John while the phone rang. "Hey, iAm, how's you? Yup. Uh-huh - how'd you know? Yeah, I need a set of wheels in the theater district, stat.... You are so the man, iAm." She ended the call. "Done. ETA is less than five minutes."

Thank you, John signed.

"What is it?" Qhuinn said as Layla started to stiffen.

Xhex narrowed her eyes on the Chosen's face as the female's grid lit up... with arousal. And shame. And pain.

"He's here," the Chosen whispered. "He's not far at all."

John and Qhuinn instantly went for their weapons - which was a good trick on the latter's part, given that he still had Layla up in his arms.

Who the hell was she talking about -

"Xcor," Xhex breathed as she looked in the same direction the Chosen was focusing on. And then connecting the dots, she thought out loud, "Jesus Christ... Xcor?"

iAm picked that moment to pull up in a BMW X5, and a split second later, he was out and holding the door open.

Qhuinn lunged for the SUV, and Layla didn't put up any fight as she was shoved in there like an invalid.

"Take the vehicle," iAm told the males. "Use it as your own."

After an abrupt thank-you from Qhuinn, there was a brief moment of now-what as John looked at Xhex.

Bracing herself for some male chest thumping, she wanted to curse -

We'll take her back, John signed. You stay here and do what you have to.

Just like that they hopped into iAm's SUV and off they went.

"Do you need help?" iAm asked.

"Thanks, but nope," she murmured as she watched the red brakes flare and then disappear around the far corner. "I got this."

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