“Rémy,” Xavier said, and a lone male vampire appeared out of the shadows as if he had been conjured there by the sound of his master’s voice. “There’s a prisoner in the barracks. Take her to my interrogation room.”
“Yes, my lord,” Rémy said, and walked past Layla without a glance.
Turning, she signaled an “okay” to Brian and Kerry, who both stood watching with wary expressions as the vampire drew closer. Rémy didn’t acknowledge them at all, simply walked past and emerged a moment later with the still-unconscious prisoner over his shoulder. He walked past her and Xavier without a word, just going about his master’s bidding.
“Where are you taking her?” Layla asked, more out of curiosity than anything else, since she’d already decided to let Xavier do the questioning.
“The vampire wing,” he said, as if he wondered why she was asking. “Feel free to observe, although I warn you, it won’t be pretty. And she won’t survive.”
Layla concealed her wince at the matter-of-fact way he said that, even though she honestly had no problem with the judgment.
“Layla.” Brian touched her shoulder lightly as he came to stand next to her.
He stared at Xavier for a moment, then introduced himself. “Brian Hudson,” he said simply. Between the stories Layla had told him and the few vampires they’d encountered in their various assignments, he knew better than to offer a handshake.
Xavier’s already cold expression went positively frigid while he eyed Brian up and down, his glittering eyes slowly shuttered behind a lazy blink as his gaze shifted to Layla. “This is your commanding officer?” he asked her.
It was Brian who answered with a low chuckle that didn’t win him any points. “No, sir,” he said. “She’s mine.”
“Your what?” Xavier growled.
“My commanding officer.”
Xavier’s lip curled. “Then why are you standing here?”
“I thought my captain might need some help.”
“And you thought you could help her? Against me?”
“I don’t know,” Brian admitted. “But I’d have to try.”
All but forgotten in the escalating testosterone battle between the two males, Layla sighed and stepped between them, breaking their stare-down. “Thank you, Brian, but I don’t require assistance. You should join the others and get settled in the barracks. You guys have more gear to deal with than I do.”
Brian studied her for an unhappy moment, turned and shot Xavier a hard look, then snapped a sharp salute—which had to be for the vampire lord’s benefit, since they never saluted—and strolled into the barracks with deliberate ease.
Xavier watched him go, then looked back to Layla. “My office, now,” he growled.
She shook her head. “I have to make sure—”
He moved so fast, she didn’t see it coming. Suddenly, he was no more than an inch away, his head lowered until they were practically nose to nose, those gleaming eyes staring into hers. “Don’t push me tonight, Layla,” he hissed. “I need a briefing, and you’re going to deliver it.”
“You took my prisoner,” she accused.
“She’s my prisoner, not yours.”
“Bastard.”
“Hardly. My mother was a lady of the court, and my father was her husband under Church law. I’ll thank you not to sully her good name.”
She glowered, wondering if any of that was true, or if he was just being an arrogant ass.
“No comeback,” he gloated. “How very disappointing . . . for you.” He took another look around and apparently didn’t like what he saw. “We’re taking this to my office,” he said, looking down at her. “The only question is how you’re going to get there.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she muttered.
“You’ve been gone far too long, if you think that’s true. And you wouldn’t be able to stop me any more than your boyfriend would.”
And they’d been getting along so well, she thought, gritting her jaw hard enough that her teeth hurt. “Fuck,” she snapped.
Xavier gave her a look she couldn’t interpret, a cross between gloating and indulgence. And what the hell was that supposed to mean? “Walk with me,” he said, his tone so gentle that it completely disarmed her.
“Ugh,” she groaned, but began walking in the right direction while he turned to join her.
They’d taken only a few steps, when Xavier said, “He’s in love with you.”
It was such a non sequitur that she gave him a startled look. “What? Who?”
“Your man Brian. He’s in love with you.”
“No, he’s not,” she said, letting him hear, in her voice, what an absurd idea that was. “Brian loves me, yes. But as a friend, a brother. There’s never been anything else between us.”
“So you say.”
“So I know. We’ve known each other for years. We served in the military together, before creating this team. Trust me, there’s nothing between us.”
“Captain.” Brian’s shout drew her attention with impeccable timing.
She looked up at Xavier. “I’ll catch up.”
“I’ll wait,” he snarled.
She walked back, meeting Brian halfway. “What’s up?”
“You okay?” he asked softly, glancing at Xavier over her shoulder, making his meaning clear.
“Fine. He was angry, but he’d never hurt me.”
“So what’s the story between you two?”
“What? There is no story,” she lied.
“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “Tell that to someone who hasn’t known you for ten years. You have a thing for him.”
“Did. Past tense. As in, no longer.”
“Uh huh. For what it’s worth, he likes you, too.”
“He likes everything with a pussy.”
Brian laughed. “Now I know you like him.”
“Drop it, Hudson. Get yourself and the others settled and fed. The communal kitchen’s that way. They’ll just be serving dinner. And stop dissecting my non-existent love life.”