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Tanner added, “We’ve mostly been eating out so we wouldn’t use up all your food.”
Roman retrieved one of the pizza boxes and thumped it onto the counter. “I was bugging—you guys leave your senses of humor back in Angelthene or something?” He flipped open the lid—and frowned. “Who ordered pineapple on pizza?”
Loren and Ivy raised their hands.
Roman grimaced and closed the lid.
“There should be pepperoni there too,” Darien said.
Roman was already moving, shoving the ham-and-pineapple box back in the fridge and taking out the pepperoni. He retrieved a slice and took a giant bite. As he ate, he studied their group. Asked Kylar, “Anything happen while I was gone?”
Kylar hesitated. Glanced at Darien.
Darien knew this had to happen eventually. So he told Roman, whose chewing had slowed, a crease forming in his brow, “Finish eating, and then I want to talk to you alone.”
Darien’s boots thumped on cement as he walked into Roman’s garage, his cousin following. The door slammed shut, and the pounding of Roman’s boots joined Darien’s.
The hotrods and motorcycles shone under the fluorescents, the bright chrome so polished it reflected the room like mirrors.
Darien stopped by the line of motorcycles. “You’ve got a really impressive collection here.”
“And you’ve got an impressive way of avoiding telling me something that’s gonna upset me.” Roman stopped just behind him, and when he spoke again, his words were tight with reluctance. “It is going to upset me, isn’t it?”
Darien turned to face him, recognizing that look on his cousin’s face—the one that told him he was preparing for a hard kick to the nuts. This was going to hurt Darien just as much as it would hurt Roman; he could sense it.
He crossed his arms, his tongue suddenly having trouble finding words. Swallowed. Drew a slow, deep breath.
Roman lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “Darien—”
“An accident happened while you were gone,” Darien began, speaking evenly. “Pax and Eugene were coming to the house, and they noticed they were being stalked by a couple Shadowmasters. Blaine and Larina.”
Roman’s face paled.
“They had nowhere else to go but to the house. And Blaine and Larina followed them.”
Roman stared at Darien. His face was blank, and his throat shifted with several swallows.
And then he started pacing, one hand slowly rising to rub the stubble on his chin. “Jeez, Darien—for gods’ sake—”
“It was an accident—”
He spun to face him. “So they were in this fucking house?” He pointed at the garage door that led inside.
Darien nodded.
Roman dropped his hand, and it slapped his thigh. “Well, I guess that’s it, then.” His voice wavered, and he ran a shaking hand through his hair. The few shadows in the room began to stir.
“Roman—”
“FUCK!” He roared the word through bared teeth. He kicked the bumper of the closest hotrod, the clang of dented chrome ringing through the garage. “Fuck’s sake!” His chest shook with heavy, trembling breaths, and he started pacing again. “I never should have left—”
“Why does Pax never wear short sleeves?”
Roman ground his teeth. “Don’t even start.”
“I am starting, and I’m not going to stop. Tell me why.”
Roman kept pacing.
