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Stryke made a beeline for the bar and splashed whiskey into a couple of lowball glasses. “So. Where did you find the bracelet?”
“Long story.” Logan pulled it from his pocket and slid it across the bar top.
Stryke’s expression hardened, became a carving of stone, but his eyes couldn’t hide the sadness as he gingerly took the bracelet with his fingers.
“Chaos,” he whispered.
Guilt tore at Logan with Cruentus-sharp claws. He’d blamed Stryke for Chaos’s death, even though it wasn’t really fair. Yes, Stryke had been charged with watching the twins that day. And he’d made a mistake, for sure, by leaving them alone on a theme park ride while he hooked up with a popcorn stand attendant. But no one could doubt that Stryke had loved his little brother, no matter how cold and distant he’d grown since the boy died. Seeing the pain in his eyes knocked Logan down a little. Stryke had paid a steep price for his error in judgment.
It was just that Chaos had paid more.
It wasn’t often that Stryke revealed vulnerability, and Logan could practically hear his uncle barking in his ear.
Now is the time to ask him anything you want. His guard is down. Strike fast, kid.
“Stryke…can I ask you something?”
The Sem carefully and precisely placed the whiskey bottle onto its assigned position in the lighted liquor cabinet. “I can’t stop you.”
Logan’s fists clenched in frustration. The Sem had always been hard to talk to, even before he morphed into the broody dick he was now.
“Do you know much about my parents?”
“Like what?” Stryke handed Logan one of the lowballs. The way it made his fingers sting told him the glass had been made from Sheoulic sand.
“Like how they got together.”
“Why would I know anything about that?”
“Dunno. You have access to resources I don’t. I heard some disturbing crap from someone in The Aegis, and I’m feeling it out.”
“From that human female you’re saddled with?”
“Wassaddled with.” Except it hadn’t felt that way. He’d enjoyed being around Eva. At least, as long as she wasn’t trying to make him doubt his parents and their entire relationship. “How did you know about her?”
Stryke drew a dart from the basket on the end of the bar. “I have an active network of informants.”
“Did your spies tell you that one of your weapons killed some of our people?”
“No.” Stryke flung the little missile at a dartboard hung below the skull of a horned demon that must have been the size of a water buffalo. “Kynan did.” Bullseye.
Logan scowled. “Kynan said he hadn’t heard from you.”
“He hasn’t. I heard from him.”
What an ass. “So, you got his message and didn’t respond?”
Stryke tossed another dart. Bullseye. “I’ve been busy.”
I’ve been busy?
What the hell? Too busy for family? For friends?
The last few days’ events, the conversations and lies, the blood and death…all of it sat on Logan like an overburdened mule. The weight of it rubbed painfully, and now it felt like the load was slipping, becoming unbalanced.
And his temper was going along for the ride.
“People are dead, you son of a bitch,” he growled. “Because of your weapon. And Draven is on a rampage I’m not sure he’ll come back from.”
