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“Of course you didn’t.” Masok chuckled at the idea. “You were amazing, as always.”
The waiter brought their drinks, and they toasted Matt. His earlier terror had fled, and a warm glow filled him as Parlek said, “To music, to newly discovered talent, and to the riches coming my way.”
“Stop it, you goon.” Irene raised her bottle of bohut. “To you, Matt. From what I can tell, you’re a nice guy, and I love it when the nice guys win.”
“Thank you.” Matt beamed as Masok and Avir pressed kisses to either cheek.
The group crowding around him moved apart a little, and he saw the club beyond them, the people crowding tables and enjoying their night out.
His gaze fell onhim, standing between a couple of tables a few feet away.Hewatched as Matt was embraced and kissed by men.
A thrill of terror rushed through Matt.It’s just your imagination, like before. He isn’t here.
But it was the monster he always saw in his hallucinations, his father Sven. This time it was his uncle Valter, and he was walking toward Matt. He was there, and he was coming for them.
Chapter Thirteen
Matt staggered back a step. Kom looked in the direction he stared. His smile fled in an instant, and a growl issued from his lips as he took a step that partially obstructed Matt’s view.
“What—?” Masok started.
The familiar snarling voice rose above the nearby conversation. “Step aside. I will speak to my nephew!”
“Son of a bitch!” Avir swore. He pushed Matt further back, also moving to block Valter from reaching him.
“You were warned to leave him alone.” Matt couldn’t view Kom’s expression, only his and Avir’s wide torsos as they formed a living barricade between nephew and uncle.
He saw others’ faces, however. At his side, Masok appeared simultaneously horrified and furious. Casual Innuendo and Parlek were confused but obviously concerned.
He couldn’t see Valter, but he heard him fine in the club’s sudden silence. “His father is in the last stages. He’s been transferred to a facility in Galactic Council space! Matthew, can you hear me? If you don’t go to him now, there’ll be no chance of saving him!”
“Get out. Matt’s nothing to you.” It sounded as if Avir spoke through gritted teeth.
“He’s a foul, hell-bound pervert, as are you. This is his only chance to repent his crimes. Matthew! Stop hiding behind these deviants and do your duty to the man who raised you!”
There was a strange roaring in Matt’s ears, overcoming Valter’s hectic shouts. Darkness crowded the edges of his vision and crept inward.
From a great distance, he heard himself say, “No. No, I can’t. I can’t. No more.”
The roaring eclipsed everything then. He felt as if he were falling, but his sight had been reduced to a pinhole, through which he couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t see Valter attack his clan, couldn’t see him hurt them. Then the mote of light winked out.
The roaring died, replaced by silence. Quiet darkness swallowed Matt.
* * * *
“Who was the old maniac? What did he do to Matt to freak him out?”
Avir paused pacing the length of the hospital’s waiting room to glance at Irene, who sat with her clan and manager. He wasn’t sure why they’d insisted on coming when they barely knew Matt, but he appreciated their concern. It would mean something to Matt when he emerged from…wherever he’d gone.
The thrill of Matt’s triumph had descended into a nightmare. Solomon had ordered his bouncers to throw Valter out of the club. Law enforcement had been called and Avir had logged a complaint of misdemeanor harassment. Valter had been picked up, still shouting for Matt outside Den of the Departed. He’d be brought before a judge that very night, and Avir’s lawyers would represent Matt’s interests and the clan’s demands for him to be ejected from Kalquor.
Those events had been a dim background to the sight of Matt, blank-eyed and moaning in a wordless drone, crawling under a table in the club, curling in a ball, and refusing to speak.
No, not refusing. He’d beenunableto respond to them. His body had been present, but his mind had fled elsewhere.
Kom, who’d been the previous voice of reason, had lost all rational ability for several minutes. It had taken every man of Casual Innuendo, Parlek, Masok, and several patrons to prevent him from dashing outside to kill Valter.
Rather than allow his own rage to send him after a stringy old man who’d likely expire from one punch to his creased face, Avir had pulled Matt from under the table instead. The young man hadn’t resisted or fought as he had in the Dramok’s office. He’d merely curled tighter into himself and hummed louder. Kom’s fury had finally been tamped down when Avir yelled at him to get to the shuttle so they could take Matt to the hospital.
