People like him didn’t need souls; they were for good and honest people. And he wasn’t a good person, nor was he an honest one.
He shouldn’t give a shit. Shouldn’t care in the slightest.
And hedidn’tcare.
At least…that was what he tried to tell himself.
—
Darien found himself at Lucent Enterprises shortly after eight p.m., after spotting Arthur’s car in the near-empty parking lot.
The weapons technician must’ve sensed his approach, for he met him at the door to his private laboratory. Darien was preparing to use his stolen fingerprints on the keypad out front when the door swung open.
“Might I remind you that we can arrange to meet at the front entrance?” Arthur was frowning. “Stolen prints are not always necessary when we live in the days of cellphones, and you have a weapons technician for a friend.” Arthur looked him over, as though he could see the blue vampire blood Darien had scrubbed off before coming here.
“Where’s the fun in that, Arthur?” Darien teased.
But Arthur didn’t laugh. “Where’s Loren?” he inquired as he stepped aside to allow Darien into the laboratory. The hum of machinery was the only sound.
Darien frowned, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he followed Arthur inside. He paced on the floors that were so clean they reflected the rows of fluorescents like a mirror. “She hasn’t been around lately.”
“Shame,” Arthur sighed. “You were quite fond of her. As was I. When you brought her here, I’d actually hoped you’d finally found someone and were settling down.”
Darien stopped pacing. “She deserves better than me, Arthur.” His voice was burdened with regret that cut deep. “She deserves someone normal. Someone who’s not going to put her in danger by simply being in the same room as her. Byexistingaround her.” He shook his head in disgust and pushed back his still-damp hair.
Arthur gave a thoughtful hum. “What if she was already in danger all her life?” He folded his wrinkled hands before him. “What if simply being human is enough for her to need saving?”
Darien’s brow creased. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, what if trying to spare Loren pain only ends up causing her more?” Darien started to shake his head, but Arthur continued. “I think that perhaps she needs someone like you. Someone who can protect her while she finds her place in the world. Someone who can face the pain of this unbalanced system and be able to take it.”
“Nothing good can come of me being with her. I won’t risk it.” He sighed, and he couldn’t look at Arthur as he went on to admit how he’d emotionally snapped two days after he’d kissed Loren. “At the same time, I don’t know if I can stay away from her, Arthur. Last week, I…I broke the library doors off the hinges at Hell’s Gate. I shattered a bunch of dishes. I literally cracked the coffee table in half. Scared the shit out of the other Devils.”
He was always so careful about containing his rage, only setting it free in underground fighting rings and on his targets. Never had anything caused his temper to fly off the hook in his own household; around the people he calledfamily.Not until Loren came around.
Not until he realized he couldn’t have her.
“Have you tried asking Miss Calla how she feels about the situation?” Seeing the deliberation on Darien’s face, Arthur gave him a little smile. “I think, Darien, that perhaps you should allow her to have her say. It might help with this internal conflict you’re experiencing.”
Darien strode to a table and leaned back against it. “I think I might’ve lost my chance. I’ve done a thorough job of pushing her away lately.”
“So, let her come to you,” Arthur suggested. “You might be surprised by what you find if you give something a little time and breathing space.”
Darien sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Speaking of time and breathing space, have you found anything of interest lately?”
“I did.” He went over to where a silver briefcase sat on the counter. He snapped open the latches and retrieved a roll of paper from within. He spread it out on the table before Darien, though he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, for the drawings said enough.
They were blueprints.
“The Arcanum Well.” Darien felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.
“A replica of it,” Arthur corrected.
“Where did you find these?”
“I did some snooping in our databases and found some restricted files. I’m not sure who created them, but I have every intention of finding out.”
“How did you manage to access the restricted files?”
