Chapter 15
Cyan didn’t know how long she’d been working in the platform’s engine room, using her skills to disrupt the evil fog outside. She’d been able to create a narrow band of positive energy around the rig that kept the mist from touching it. The band was only about ten feet wide, but it was enough to discourage some of the malevolent creatures from getting onto the platform.
The catch was that if she didn’t monitor her weaves, they unraveled the moment she left the engine room. But if she could get one of the mages to add their power to hers, she might be able to finally get out of this hot, stifling chamber.
The main door swung open, and Stryke and Taran burst through the hatch. “Between the mages and our weapons, we’ve beaten back the demons,” Taran said. “But I don’t know for how long. The heat signatures from the rift are getting bigger, and the crack is growing.” He slicked his hair back from his face as he looked around. “Why is it so quiet in here? I usually need to yell to be heard.”
“I got tired of the noise,” she said. “I wove a silence spell into the machinery.”
Stryke gave her an approving nod. “Nice.” He started toward her. “We got new images of the rift you might want to see.”
“Did you bring them? I can’t leave unless you can get a mage in here.”
Taran reached for the door handle. “Hold on. I’ll download the images. Give me ten.” He took off, presumably for the FOC.
Stryke held out a bottle of water. “You hungry? The cafeteria is actually serving some hot food. I can grab something for you.”
She gratefully took the water and shook her head as she twisted off the cap. “No. I just want off this thing. I swear I’m never going near the sea or ocean again.” She took a huge gulp. “Have you heard anything from Blade?”
“Comms are still down.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have broken the link with him,” she suggested, more than a little annoyed by his refusal to do the smart thing.
“Maybe it’s none of your business.”
“Excuse me?” The plastic bottle crinkled in her tight, irritated grip. “None of my business? You brought me here to fix a potentially catastrophic rift between the human and demon realms, and I’m probably going to die. So, yeah, it’s my business when you endanger us all. I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit,” she snapped. “I can’t believe I took you at your word when you said difficult answers require difficult decisions. You didn’t make the difficult decision here, Stryke. You made the easy one because you didn’t want to deal with your brother.”
He went still. “What did you say?”
“Oh, don’t get pissy,” she spat, frustrated by his stubbornness. “It’s obvious you don’t want to deal with your brother.”
“Not that,” he ground out. “The difficult answers thing.”
“Oh.” She blinked. Sometimes, he was hard to follow. A little calmer now, she explained. “When I was in school, you came back to your alma mater to speak to my class. You talked about having to make difficult choices at such a young age.”
“I remember that,” he said, frowning. “I didn’t think anyone actually listened.”
“I listened.” She remembered every word, every gesture, every detail of his lecture. “You were my hero, Stryke. And then after I saw you speak at my college, you became the reason I wanted to work for DART. You’re the reason I want to expand the lab and create our own weapons and defenses. But thanks to the crap going on with The Aegis, our funding was cut.”
“Thanks to my weapon, you mean.”
“Take it as you will.” She turned back to the wall of anti-fog glyphs only she could see, then realized she wasn’t done. Hell, no. He owed her. She wheeled back around to him. “What happened to you, Stryke? What changed? What happened to the cocky genius who laughed and shared his love of science with the world?”
For a long, tense moment, he stood there as still as a statue. His eyes grew haunted, and she swore she saw shadows writhing in their dark depths. The trauma lurking there made her regret her question.
“What changed?” he asked finally, his voice as haunted as his gaze. “What changed is that I killed my brother.”
Cyan’s expression slowly shifted from anger to surprise. And then disbelief.
Join the club .
Stryke couldn’t believe he’d actually said that. With the exception of Blade’s bullshit every couple of years or so, he hadn’t spoken about that day since then. Well, until his dad came to his office the other day.
Stryke had kept that part of his life buried deep, unwilling to open up about it to anyone. And now, in the middle of a hazardous situation, he’d just blurted it out. Invited questions. Exposed his throat and made himself vulnerable.
What was it about this female that made him so stupid?
He wanted a do-over. Wanted to finally get started on inventing a time machine so he could go back and change this moment.
Dolt. If you invent a time machine, Chaos never has to die .
“I didn’t know you had another brother,” she said, bringing him back to the present, where time machines didn’t exist.
A dull ache centered in his chest. “His name was Chaos,” he said, his voice scratchy, a stranger to the topic. “He was Crux’s twin.”
“Crux?”
“The tall blond at the party the other night. The kid masquerading as Kynan’s nephew.”
Her pale eyebrows rose. “I remember him. But why the lie?”
“Because he hasn’t gone through his transition yet. Anyone who knows anything about my species would realize how young he is.”
“How young…” Her eyes shot wide as realization hit. “Oh, my gods. Sheoul-gra was destroyed thirty-one years ago, shutting down the reincarnation of demon souls. He’s what? Twenty-one or twenty-two? Which means he shouldn’t have been born.”
“Exactly. Now, you know why we keep his existence secret. Who knows what some psycho demons or human researchers would do with him. As far as anyone knows, Crux and Chaos are anomalies.”
“That’s…incredible.” Abruptly, her fascination became concern. “And you don’t worry that someone who knows will give up his secret?”
“Not really. My dad would kill whoever talked. Then I’d destroy their legacy, Rade would slaughter their entire bloodline, and Blade would bury the bodies. We’ve had it worked out pretty much since the twins were born.”
“Ruthless,” she murmured appreciatively, her voice a low, rumbling purr that went through him like a caress. Cocking her head, she gave him a questioning look. “How were the twins even born? Do you know?”
“There are a million theories,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve done a lot of research into it, and I believe that when Azagoth destroyed Sheoul-gra, there were a handful of unassigned souls in the pipeline, ready to be reincarnated. Instead of being returned to the bodies they’d died in to fight Azagoth’s war or being sent into waiting fetuses, they wandered around for a few years, searching for the right bodies for their souls.”
And now, because there was nowhere for demon souls to go, Chaos was either a lost soul somewhere or was being held prisoner in a soul trap made by Stryke’s company.
Fucking hell.
“Is it possible their souls were human? I mean, your mom is human.”
He practically hissed at the wrongness of that. Seminus demons were demons . Not humans. “My mother is a warg,” he said, using the term most werewolves used for their kind. “She’s no longer human.”
“But according to most experts, werewolves who were turned, not born, have human souls.”
“It’s still not possible,” he said, shutting down that ridiculous line of thought.
She nodded thoughtfully. “So, is Chaos…is what happened to him why you’re estranged from your family? Do they blame you?”
That wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. Not now, not ever.
Something growled outside, and something else screamed, and he still thought he’d rather step into that malevolent hell fog than be talking about Chaos.
Yet the evil outside was the best reason to talk about it. If something happened to him, he wanted someone to know his story. Besides, he owed Cyan. Not that he’d admit that to her.
“I’m pretty sure Blade blames me,” he said, feeling like the words were being forcibly dragged out. “The others say they don’t, but how can they not? It was my fault. Chaos is dead because of me.”
She took a drink of her water. “Is that why Blade attacked you the other night?”
His cheek throbbed in an echo of that fun little beating.
“We used to be tight.” He looked up at the maze of different-colored pipes weaving along the ceiling. He wondered where they all went. “It was always Blade and me against Rade.”
“Tell me,” she said softly.
He’d said too much already, and his throat was starting to close as if he were having an anaphylactic attack. What function did each pipe serve?
“It was a long time ago.”
“Maybe. But it’s still affecting you all today.”
He hated that she was right, but the fact was, it wasn’t a new revelation. All that shit had gone down more than fifteen years ago, and it hadn’t been dealt with since.
And most of that was on him.
“Please, son. Talk to us. Your mom and I are concerned about you. It’s been nine months since Chaos died, and we still haven’t talked about it as a family.”
“Blade has talked about it enough for all of us.” His brother’s sharp words, as cutting as the weapon he’d been named for, sliced into him over and over, flaying him wide open.
You shouldn’t have left the twins alone.
You should have asked someone to watch them.
You should have fucking been there!
“Stryke,” Shade said, “Rade said you left him a message. You’re giving your StryTech facility to your brothers and cousins?”
“I’m building a new complex in downtown Sydney. I’ll live there.”
Since the entire continent of Australia had been ceded to demons, much of it was unoccupied, especially in the business sectors. Demonic governorship in the human realm was going through some growing pains, and while the district Sydney was in was home to only Ufelskala One and Two denizens who had mostly lived secretly in the human world, they were, in fact, still demons. And demons had a tendency to rule, not lead.
The messy demonic politics had made it easy for Stryke to swoop in and claim abandoned ultra-modern, human-constructed buildings practically for free. Most hadn’t been in use since the humans abandoned the continent, and those that were in use got emptied in favor of Stryke’s rapidly growing business and notoriety. He’d assured the people in charge that he’d bring in money, humans, and legitimacy for Australia’s government—which humans were still trying to accept.
It had been over a decade since the destruction of Sheoul-gra, when the human world learned about the existence of demons and angels, werewolves and vampires. And humans had reacted exactly how humans had reacted century after century to anything new: with fear and violence that eventually turned on themselves.
But Stryke’s goal was to bring down the temperature on the planet and provide the humans with tools that would protect them from demons like those that had killed Chaos. He’d sworn to do that for his brother. To prevent anyone else from going through what Chaos had. What their entire family was going through.
“Might have been a good thing to tell us,” Shade said. “You know, your parents. Who haven’t seen you in six months.”
“Guilt trip noted. That’s why I’m here, Dad. I wanted to tell you myself. I’m expanding the company. The soul traps division has made millions, enough for me to branch out. I’ve got designs for upgraded communications tech and anti-demon weapons. But I’m most excited about working on demon-detection devices and software.”
“I thought you wanted to work for NASA or some other space agency.”
He had. And then Chaos died, and his entire life’s trajectory had altered in an instant.
“Things change.”
“Stryke—”
“I have to go.”
“But your mom—”
“Tell her I’m sorry I missed her.”
That had been over fifteen years ago, and he’d only seen his family a handful of times since. He’d seen more of his brothers, mainly because they’d moved into his compound, and Stryke had needed to keep in touch with them about that. But most interactions had been through holo-messaging and not in person.
“Stryke?” Cyan’s voice jolted him back to the present, which was a much better place to be, even with the threat of imminent death.
“Yeah?”
“What happened?”
He’d dreaded that question. Knew it was coming and only wondered why she’d waited so long to ask it.
Sweat rolled at his temples as he looked back up at the pipes and began calculations on the number of hours it would have taken to design the layout. It helped to keep his brain busy so his emotions didn’t get out of control.
“I was twenty-two. Only transitioned for eleven months.” And three weeks, two days, and six hours. He kept track because he’d noted the exact time the hellish experience of transitioning into a mature Seminus demon had ended. “I was supposed to be watching the twins at a theme park. Long story short, I was fucking some park employee when demons attacked. Chaos…” He swallowed, hyperfocused on the maze of ceiling pipes. A human would have spent days designing that. AI? Six seconds. “He died.”
“I’m so sor—”
“Don’t.” He shook his head. His heavily divided brain was starting to hurt. “I’m barely keeping it together as it is.”
Her hand came down on his back, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Instinctively, he shouldered her away, but she moved with him, and when she touched him again, her touch was firmer.
Comforting.
Beneath her fingers, his skin trembled. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to baring his soul. Or being on the receiving end of compassion. Or being touched.
He didn’t know what to do. He only knew his system was on overload, shifting up into fight or flight.
Stop running away .
Blade’s words rang through Stryke’s head like one of the punches that had followed.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“But it was,” he blurted angrily. “I didn’t want to watch the twins that day. I missed a lecture on quantum inversion theory because of it, and I was pissed. So pissed that I didn’t plan for my needs well.”
“You didn’t have an injection?”
He swallowed the lump of shame in his throat. “I should have asked Blade or Sabre for one. But the popcorn stand girl was cute, and I hadn’t learned to control my urges yet.”
The first year after transition wasn’t easy. Eidolon said it was similar to a human teen going through puberty, except condensed into one year and ten times more intense. Sexual needs raged, wiping away rational thought and logic. But that was no excuse for what he’d done.
And failed to do.
“I was doing the human when the attack started…my fucking pants were down, and I stumbled. I didn’t get there in time.” His gut ached, and his heart clenched as the memories slammed into him like Blade’s fists but far more painful. “Then, afterward…I don’t know. A lot of it’s a blur.”
Unfortunately, a blurry nightmare was still a nightmare. He might not remember much of the immediate hours that followed, but there were a few things he’d never forget. That left him sick and riddled with guilt.
His mom’s soul-deep, gut-wrenching screams when she got the news stuck with him. He recalled how his father had, for months, been a mere shadow of the vibrant, larger-than-life male Stryke had known. Friends and family had been sober and sad, the very opposite of the lively, close-knit community they’d been for as long as Stryke could remember.
Crux had taken it the hardest. He’d shut down for weeks, curled into a fetal position on his bed, his blank stare focused on the wall. The entire family had taken turns bringing him food and liquids, which he’d eaten like a zombie before curling up again.
Blade had turned angry; his pain honed into a white-hot spear of rage that was always pointed at Stryke.
And then there was Rade. The brother who had been bereft of emotion since the day he was returned after being kidnapped by a vengeful demon as an infant. He hadn’t shown any feelings, but his red-rimmed eyes had said it all. Not that they’d needed to. Stryke had felt the depth of his agony, so buried that it could barely even be labeled a smolder. But every once in a while, a burst of heart-wrenching suffering would escape Rade and take Stryke to his knees.
That was when he’d found Quillax. Stryke had practically begged the male to find a way to sever the connection he had with his brothers. He couldn’t handle his pain, let alone theirs. And for the good of them all, he’d cut his thread and freed them from everything he felt.
Cyan squeezed his arm. “So, you’ve just been living with all of that alone? For all these years?”
“I’ve had my work. It’s the most important thing. Without it, Chaos’s death means nothing.”
“That’s why you create the things you do,” she mused. “Weapons and traps and detectors. Now, it all makes sense.”
“Glad I could help you solve the puzzle.”
She didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm. “Yes, and… oh .”
“Oh, what?”
“Sex,” she breathed. “You associate what happened to Chaos with sex. That’s why you try to avoid it. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Only partly. “I avoid it because it’s a waste of my time.”
She offered a thoughtful nod. “I can understand why you’d think that. But I still think I’m right. I saw you with Masumi. You chose an injection instead. I saw you in the storm with the demons, and you damned near chose to die out there with them rather than have sex with me. And then when we finally did do it, you ran out of there like you were on fire.”
“I needed to get to work,” he said, knowing it was both the truth…and lame.
Of course, she called him on it.
“Bullshit. Something happened. It was as if a switch turned on. I saw it, Stryke, so don’t try to tell me I didn’t.”
Closing his eyes, he just stood there, too tired to argue. Besides, it was pointless. She’d figured it out. Lying would only insult them both.
“You’re right, but we’re done talking.” His brother should arrive soon. “We need to prepare for Blade.”
The door at the far end of the engine room opened, and Taran called out. “I’ve got the images. I’ll be right there. I need to check some gauges really quick.”
Cyan turned to Stryke as Taran disappeared behind a wall of equipment. “You never told me what you said when you contacted Blade.”
For the first time ever, he was glad to change the subject to that particular brother. “I told him to bring some prototypes from StryTech labs. A diffuser powered by Heavenly material that I hope will disperse the fog and an amplifier that might allow you to fix the glyphs remotely.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Quillax helped the devs design it after he did the oil platform job. He hated going down in the sub.”
“Has it been tested?”
“Unsuccessfully,” he admitted. “Quillax gave it a trial run the last time he was here. According to him, it wasn’t powerful enough, but my people have been working on it, so there’s a chance it’ll be sufficient for your needs now.”
She scowled, her gaze turned inward. He liked how she looked when she concentrated: like a sexy professor or a scientist pondering a complex equation. Did she ever wear glasses? Because he’d like that even more.
He’d never been one to fantasize about females, yet suddenly, he was picturing her in front of a DNA sequencer as she explained, in seductive, scientific terms, how it worked. And she was wearing nothing but a lab coat, glasses, and high heels.
Stop it ! The world was in danger, and his Seminus instincts chose now to suddenly thaw from the deep freeze he’d put them in? Inconvenient and unacceptable.
“Hmm.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s what happened to the spells. Maybe it wasn’t intentional, after all. If he attempted to use the device on them, it’s possible the failure actually caused the deterioration.”
That made a lot of sense. More than thinking Quillax had intentionally messed with the glyphs.
“Hopefully, you can make it work this time,” he said. “We need to get your spells into the depths without actually going down there.”
Cyan was quiet for a long time. “And if we can’t?”
Then we might be very, very fucked .
Leaders didn’t say that kind of shit, though. Ares was fond of saying, “ No matter how badly the war is going, if you can’t withdraw, you tell your troops the battle is worth it and that there is always hope .”
So, instead of telling Cyan they were all probably going to die, he said, “Blade will get us off this thing. I know him, and I know Kynan. They have a plan.”
“That’s great,” she said. “But escape means leaving the breach unsealed, right?”
Behind them, the sound of the door opening announced Taran’s arrival.
“Yes.” There was no way to sugarcoat what that meant. Not even Ares would be able to find hope. “And without a miracle, the planet will face a disaster of Biblical proportions.”
“So…just another day on planet Earth.”
Her delivery was deadpan and perfect. Gallows humor was the best kind. Especially when it was so fitting.
One second, Cyan thought she had Stryke figured out. The next, he blew her away with some new revelation. He’d exposed his soul and flayed hers when he revealed his past, agony, and…vulnerability.
She got the feeling he didn’t do that easily or often, and for some reason, he’d brought her into a circle of trust that was, no doubt, very, very small.
She contemplated the significance of that as she looked over the images Taran had left with them. She couldn’t imagine the burden Stryke carried or the difficulty of being a sex demon who needed—but hated—sex. Had he ever sought help? Counseling?
She wished her mom was alive to ask for advice. But she wasn’t. Because she’d died of a literal broken heart when the bond between her parents broke. Because of a StryTech device malfunction.
It was getting harder and harder to hate Stryke for that, though. Especially after hearing what he’d gone through with his family. He was already punishing himself to extremes, and she had to admit that it disturbed her to see beneath his cold, hard, asshole exterior to his desperately broken interior. And maybe she had too much of her mom in her because she felt the desire to help.
Help the male she’d sworn to make miserable.
“It’s so weird,” she murmured.
“What? The glyphs?”
“No. Well, yes, but that’s not what I’m thinking about.”
He seemed to weigh whether or not to press. As if he normally didn’t care enough about anyone to ask follow-up questions.
So, naturally, she got stupid warm-fuzzies when he said, “What are you thinking about?”
However, just because she was inwardly smiling didn’t mean she’d forgiven all his behavior. “Nothing.”
He gave her the side-eye. “I sense you’re attempting to teach me a lesson.”
She grinned. “You really are a genius.”
Amusement softened his expression as he gestured to the holoimages. “What do you see?”
“Nothing good,” she admitted. The glyphs had frayed faster than she’d expected. “Maybe you should connect with Blade again—”
“Not yet.”
“But, Stryke—”
“I said no. How much time do we have?”
Unbelievable. She’d have argued, but he had that this-conversation-is-over tone that made them both prickly. And, frankly, they didn’t have time to fight.
She did a quick mental calculation. When she finished, her gut was churning.
“Cyan?”
She looked up, hating this. “If my calculations are correct,’ she said hoarsely, “We’re down to maybe eight hours.”