Chapter 29
Stryke didn’t sleep that night. At all. He just sat in his living room going over materials from Sea Storm , trying to figure out how to destroy the Gehennaportal. Well, he spent about half the time doing that. The rest had been spent thinking about Cyan. Why had she lied to him? Did Gabriel know the portal hadn’t been destroyed?
And she’s pregnant with another male’s spawn .
Frustrated, angry, and still humiliated after Eidolon’s dress down, Stryke jammed the heels of his palms into his eyes and roared. He let out everything he’d held in all night…and maybe for his entire life. Why was everything such a shitshow?
He shoved to his feet but then just stood there. Where was he going? Maybe he should talk to someone. His Seminus needs had been rapidly approaching, so he could summon Masumi. She was always trying to get him to talk.
She was always trying to get him to have sex too, and he wasn’t ready to be with anyone but Cyan.
There was no way he was calling her .
“Wouldn’t kill you to call Crux more often. He misses you .”
The last thing Blade had said to him before the DART team evacuated from the Sea Storm popped into Stryke’s head. They hadn’t said proper goodbyes. Blade had bypassed Mace and Scotty as Stryke thanked them for their help, and then, halfway to the bird, he’d spun around and told Stryke to call Crux.
Blade was an asshole, but he wasn’t wrong. And Stryke could use a few minutes to get his head on straight.
He sent a missive, and a moment later, an image of Crux seated in a gaming chair with his VR glasses on popped into Stryke’s living room.
“Hi, Stryke!” Crux called out. “Just a second. I’m shooting demons.”
All around Crux, the room turned into a battle, explosions and lasers everywhere. Crux took out a couple of dire leeches, and then the image faded away. He took off his glasses and grinned.
“Hi!” he repeated.
“Hey. I see you’re playing the new game I sent.”
His blond head bobbed enthusiastically. “It’s awesome. I’ll beta test for StryTech’s gaming division any day.”
The gaming division was Stryke’s most recent acquisition after buying out an entertainment developer, and so far, he’d been pleased with the results. He hoped, after Crux finished with his software engineering degree, that he’d come work for Stryke to develop a game that would prepare humans to fight demons without them even knowing it. That goal was why he’d bought the company in the first place.
“Did you get the drone too?” he asked.
Crux slumped in his chair. “Mace took it away for a week.”
“Why?”
“I used it to spy on him through his bedroom window,” he muttered.
“You what?”
“I was just messing around,” Crux protested. “I wanted to use the projector to make him think there was a hellrat in bed with him. How was I supposed to know he had those two females in there?” He grimaced. “Gross. I know we’re supposed to like doing all that stuff, but I don’t see how.” He made a disgusted sound. “I can’t unsee what I saw.”
Stryke forced himself not to laugh. Poor Crux. And he’d have paid money to see Mace’s reaction to a projected demonic rodent between his sheets. StryTech had worked hard to make the technology hyperrealistic.
“You’ll understand after you go through your transition,” he told Crux, struggling with every word to keep the amusement out of his voice.
“I don’t want to go through it,” Crux whined. “I asked uncle Eidolon if he can stop it.” He huffed. “For the record, he said no, and that it would be dangerous to try.”
That sounded like Eidolon, all right. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”
Crux seemed unaffected by Stryke’s attempt to console him. “Masumi keeps coming to talk to me. She said it’s so I’ll feel comfortable with her when the time comes.” He looked around and lowered his voice, leaning in conspiratorially. “It’s not working. And why does she keep changing her appearance?”
This time, Stryke couldn’t contain the smile. He’d hit the jackpot when he found Masumi. She truly cared about his family.
“She’s monitoring your reactions to get an idea of your type,” he explained.
“My type?”
“Yeah. She wants to know what kind of female turns you on. Blond, redhead, dark skin, light skin, thin, curvy, fangs, claws, scales, fur…”
“ What ?”
“Wait until she starts testing your kinks.” Crux looked like he was ready to crawl into a hole, so Stryke dialed it back. “Hasn’t anyone talked to you about all this?”
“They’ve all tried,” Crux said miserably. “But I tell them that someone else already did it.”
Stryke wished he could reach out and hug his brother, but right now, the best he could do was offer advice and an ear. “Hey, listen. Do you want to talk about it?”
Crux shook his head.
“Are you sure? I could have Masumi—”
“I’m sure!” Suddenly, Crux threw down his glasses and bounded to his feet. “Just leave me alone, okay? Why do you suddenly care about me after all these years of being gone? Back off, Stryke! Everyone needs to back off!”
The screen shut down.
And wasn’t that just the fucking cherry on top of Stryke’s shit sundae?
Cursing, he threw himself back against his couch cushions. His wrist comms indicated an incoming message, but he ignored it, just as he’d ignored every message for the last six hours. Instead, he dug into his pocket for his suppressant injector pen.
He had a choice to make. Summon Masumi, call Cyan, or take an injection.
Of course, there was an Option D, none of the above.
You have a fucking death wish . Eidolon’s voice echoed in his ears.
Sure, that might have been true at one point. But things had changed. Stryke had changed.
Because of Cyan.
Dammit!
He sat on his couch, holding the injector pen, his body aching as his need increased.
The suppressant is killing you .
Fucking Eidolon. That guy’s voice would not get out of his head. He was like an ear worm, except instead of a catchy tune playing relentlessly over and over, you got an obnoxious lecture.
His wrist comms vibrated again for the tenth time in twenty minutes. He finally looked down. His NeuroTech implant activated, bringing up a screen of the last twelve hours of missives.
Two calls from Ear Worm Eidolon. Two calls each from his parents. Two from Kalis.
Thirty-one from Cyan. The last ten calls had been hers.
“Stryke?”
He looked up at Masumi. She stood in front of him, naked except for a pair of high heels.
“I don’t need you,” he said.
“You’re lying. I can sense it.”
His fingers tightened around the injector. “I’m fine.”
Slowly, sensually, she lowered to her knees in front of him. He went taut, waiting for her to go for the fly of his pants. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap and watched him.
“Where is Cyan?” she asked, and damn if that question didn’t form a knot of acid in his belly.
“I don’t know.” Probably with the father of her baby .
“Blade told me what happened. That you almost died.” She gestured to the injector. “Because of that.”
“Blade has a big mouth.”
“Do not be angry with him.” She jabbed a slender, gold-manicured finger at him. “You are the one holding the object that nearly killed you, prepared to do it again. Be angry with yourself.”
“Oh, believe me,” he growled. “I am. I put my trust in someone who lied to me. Betrayed me.”
She laid her palms on his thighs. “I won’t do that,” she murmured, rising to nuzzle the side of his neck. “Let me help you.”
He should. He didn’t owe Cyan anything. She’d lied to him and put the entire world in danger with that lie. She was also pregnant with another male’s spawn.
Pain and jealously zapped him in the heart like an electric shock. Extra shocking because he’d never wanted children. They were annoying little time-sucks that would take him away from important work.
But right now, he’d give anything to be the father of Cyan’s baby. His child wouldn’t be a time suck. It would be an opportunity for him to learn, teach, and atone for his mistakes.
And what the fuck was wrong with him? Wanting to be a father? Maybe his cardiac episode had come with a side of brain damage.
Masumi’s hands slid up his inner thighs as her lips nibbled his neck, and for once, his libido didn’t spin up, even though his body needed sex. If anything, he kind of…deflated. Not his cock…that bastard was aching.
No, what deflated was his initial thought that he should let Masumi help him. He couldn’t. He didn’t want her. He only wanted Cyan, that lying, traitorous—
“What the hell is going on here?”
He cranked his head around in shock at the sight of Cyan, standing in his doorway in jeans and a black blouse, snowflakes swirling around her, her hair whipping in the cold wind. Her eyes, normally a deep, rich amethyst, were now glowing with reddish-gold spokes, and anger had turned her expression into a hard-cut mask.
“ Cyan ?”
She stepped inside, and the door closed behind her with a bone-jarring slam, which was bizarre because he’d programmed it for complete silence.
“How did you operate my Harrowgate?” Surprise and anger made his voice harsh. “How’d you get past my security measures?”
“I’m a fucking technomancer, you ass!” she shouted. “I’m one of the most powerful Cyberis demons in the world. You think I can’t counter your tech and magic-based measures?”
He lifted Masumi to her feet as he came to his in a surge of temper. How dare she break into his house and accuse him of wrongdoing? “You have no right to be mad at me—”
“Are you kidding me?” She tossed up her hands, gesturing furiously as she went off. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours, knowing you needed me. Knowing you wouldn’t be stupid enough to use an injection again. But you didn’t answer any of my missives, so I came here, thinking maybe you were in trouble again…and here you are with a fucking injection in your hand and Masumi in your crotch!” She waved at Masumi, her expression contrite. “Sorry, Masumi, I’m not angry with you. He’s the one being a self-centered ass who isn’t thinking of anyone but himself.” She rounded on him again. “People are worried. They’re scared, Stryke! And you can’t bother to let anyone know you’re not dead?”
She might have a point, but he wasn’t ready to acknowledge it. Not when he took the trophy for justified anger.
“You have no right to be angry about anything !” He snatched up one of the photos of the Sea Storm’s drill casing and threw it at her. “You lied about the portal, Cyan. You lied to my damned face and put the entire world at risk! I took you into my confidence, and do you know how often I do that? Do you ?”
The fury drained out of her face. Her mouth fell open. Closed.
He pounced while she was still taken aback. He’d found that people were the most honest when their brains weren’t working.
“Nothing to say about that?” He wheeled around and thrust his hands through his hair, needing something to do with them before he punched a wall. “Dammit, Cyan, why? Who are you working for? Do you know what’s going to happen when Heaven finds out? When Gabriel, a fucking Archangel , finds out? How am I going to keep you safe?”
“Keep me safe?” She blinked at him, bewildered. “ That’s what you’re worried about?”
“Well, yeah,” he shouted, dropping his hands to his sides. “I’m not going to let Heaven assassinate you. I’m an asshole, but I’m not a monster, and I’m your best shot at staying safe.” She stared at him in disbelief, which made him hit another level of furious. “What? You think Parker can protect you from Heaven?” He swore. “I’m really pissed off right now, so answer my questions. Why did you leave the Gehennaportal intact, and why did you lie to me about it?”
“Okay.” She held her hands out in a calm-down gesture that did not calm him down. “Okay. I didn’t want to lie to you, I swear. Gabriel made me. He said that if this got out, you could be in danger. I was only supposed to tell you the truth if you decided to drill or sell the rig.”
It was his turn to stare at her in disbelief. “Gabriel knows ?”
She came closer, bringing her sexy, copper-silver scent with her, and his body, already throbbing with need, responded with a fresh wave of lust. For a moment, his brain short-circuited, filling his mind with erotic images of Cyan in his bed.
Her voice brought him back, but he didn’t know how much longer he could remain rational.
“…when we were underwater,” she was saying. “Once we got to the site, he told me to repair the breach instead of destroying the portal, but he didn’t say why. I’m sorry, Stryke.” The plea in her voice, in her eyes, stabbed him in the heart. He’d always enjoyed when people groveled, but dammit, not Cyan. She shouldn’t be groveling in front of anyone, least of all him. “Gabriel’s an Archangel. I had to believe he knew what he was doing.”
In his opinion, the fact that Gabriel was an angel was a good reason not to believe the guy. But Cyan couldn’t have known that. She’d been put into an impossible situation and had done her best with the information she had.
Frankly, he no longer cared about the damned portal. Or Gabriel. Or anything but the female in front of him. Right now, all his blood and energy had been diverted from his higher brain to his basest instincts. It was this response that he’d always hated. He disliked any core need that took him away from using his mind, but this one was the worst.
At least, it had been until now. Now, he just wanted to be with Cyan. He wanted to let his brain rest and his heart and body do all the work.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Masumi slip inside her vase, leaving him alone with the only female he’d ever wanted to be with.
“Stryke?” Cyan came even closer, her hand up as if she wanted to touch him but wasn’t sure how he’d respond. “I’m sorry. I never meant to betray you—”
He shut her up with a kiss. He didn’t need her apology. He needed her .
And he needed to make sure she understood exactly how much.
Masumi smiled as she shrugged into a body-hugging pair of tactical pants and a shimmery black sports bra.
Stryke had found his match in Cyan, and it was about time. He’d needed someone to help him navigate not just his feelings, but also his life. As intelligent as he was, he was dumber than a stoned orc when it came to taking care of himself.
She felt him deep in her chest, their bond telling her he was on the verge of orgasm, and she smiled even bigger. For far too many years, she’d been his sole source of sex. Everything else had come via his injections.
He deserved this, and she was happy for him.
Another sensation pulsed inside her as she tugged on her boots, the reason she was dressing the way she was. Blade liked his females in workout or combat gear. He liked them physical. Strong. Able to withstand his appetite.
Because as caring and attentive as he was, he also liked to dominate, and he liked it a little rough. He’d taught her to fight, and sometimes they’d spar for an hour before finally peeling out of their sweat-soaked clothes and finishing in the shower.
Distantly, she could feel Sabre and Mace too, but their needs were hours away. She hadn’t been with either of them in the last couple of days, but Rade and Blade had kept her sated, using her exclusively of late.
The sensation of her home being moved swept through her, and a moment later, Blade’s summons tugged at her very being. Automatically, her physical form became another type of matter, a “viscous, Non-Newtonian fluid,” Stryke called it. The sensation of being transported from her home into Blade’s bedroom was almost erotic, leaving her breathless when she fully materialized next to her secondary vase he’d placed on his bedside table.
“I’m wearing your favorite outfit,” she purred.
His smile was predatory, his voice husky. “Yes, you are.”
He watched her, his gaze dark and hungry as she sauntered up to him, dressed in his own combat gear. Except he actually used his. He smelled of sweat, and smoke, blood and fury.
“I thought you might want to spar, but it appears you’ve been fighting already,” she said as she trailed her finger down his chest. “With Mace and Scotty?”
His eyes flashed the way they always did when she mentioned Scotty. Sometimes, when they fucked, when he was wild, so deep into it he lost control, he called out Scotty’s name.
And he wasn’t the only one.
Mace had called Masumi by Scotty’s name once, just before he sank his fangs into her throat and came so hard and for so long he’d failed to seal the punctures in her vein and she’d soaked the sheets in blood.
Blade didn’t answer the question. “Have you seen my brother?”
“Rade?” she asked, knowing full well he was talking about Stryke. Sometimes, she liked to work him up before sex. His dark side was always so unexpected from someone who was usually so level. “A couple of hours ago. And don’t ask what we talked about. He says very little.”
He growled deep in his chest, the vibration so tangible she felt it between her legs, and she nearly moaned. “Not Rade.”
“Crux, then?” She tapped her chin, pretending to recall her last meeting with Blade’s little brother. “I talked to him yesterday. I believe his change is near. He’s moody, skittish, and his pulse was erratic during my last couple of visits. Also,” she said, “and this is curious, he’s popping a slight hormonal spike when I wear a superhero or anime-style outfit, no matter my skin tone, hairstyle, or body shape. Interesting kink.”
“Not. Crux,” Blade ground out, his patience wearing thin as he pitted his body’s growing needs against his need to get a straight answer from her. “Stryke.”
She fluttered her lashes, loving how easy it was to tease him. “You know I can’t say anything about what Stryke and I did.”
“I don’t care what you did. I want to know…” He trailed off with a curse, wheeling away from her, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
“What?” She slipped around in front of him and tenderly took his right hand in hers, playtime over. “What do you want to know?”
He looked up at the colorful painted pipes running across the ceiling and cursed again. “He almost died, Masumi,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically thick with emotion. “I want to know if he’s okay.”
She thought about how she’d left him with Cyan, the only female he’d ever let into his heart. Not even Masumi could claim to have been allowed inside that cold stone fortress.
“He is now,” she said, feeling the truth of that in a wave of relief. She’d feared for him for years, watched him teeter on the edge of self-destruction he couldn’t even see. But Cyan seemed to have the magic touch, able to call him on his shit and somehow bring him down from the precipice.
Blade’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank gods. I never wanted him dead, Masumi. I’m just so…angry. I want him to know what he did to us.”
“I know.” Reaching up, she cupped his jaw. And then, using the seductive powers of her species, she altered her hair color, turning it wavy and fiery red. She made her eye color hazel with flecks of emerald green. Her skin paled, and she summoned a smattering of freckles.
Blade’s gaze grew hotter, his despair fading as his libido won the battle over emotion. Reaching behind her, he caught her around the back of her neck and tugged her close. She bumped against his chest and brought her lips up to meet his.
His eyes bored into hers, flames of lust flickering in their depths. “What do you look like when you go to Stryke?”
“I’ve tried every female combination under the sun,” she said, her lips so close to his she could feel their heat. “And he never showed any preferences.” Until Cyan. “But I bet he’s now as partial to short platinum hair and violet eyes as you are to sassy redheads with hazel eyes.”
With a low growl, he captured her mouth and kissed her hard, one hand fisting her hair at the nape of her neck, the other hauling her ass up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She purred in delight. Tonight was going to be frenzied and furious.
Tonight, he’d definitely call her Scotty.