disease.
“Not my first thought, but a distant possibility. I’d like you to make an appointment.”
By the time Anjali put down the phone, she felt wrung out. Her world reeled, as out of control as a string of lit firecrackers. First, this upheaval at work and now health issues. She turned back toward the cellblock without conscious thought. She needed Jake.
Never mind that he didn’t want to see her, she needed the quiet strength of his presence and she was too tired to care why.
Ky put his legs up on his desk and took a sip of scotch, inhaling the potent fumes and letting the peaty flavor roll over his tongue, his gaze on the laptop monitor in front of him. His six year-old self waved at the camera. A huge smile stretched his round, baby face, displaying a gap in his teeth that would have done a jack ‘o lantern proud.
Ky sucked another swallow of scotch through his teeth. The little idiot. He had no idea how close he was to disaster. A Christmas tree glittered with tinsel and colored ornaments in the background. Toys and wrapping paper were strewn knee deep. The other boys ran or toddled around, depending on their ability. His mother smiled, Madonna sweet, from the overstuffed couch beside the tree, baby Jake cradled in her arms.
“Jesus, Ky. Drinking?” John leaned his shoulder against the open wooden cubbies that divided the office from the living room and kitchen.
Usually, Ky would have made a joke about a demon using the name of God, but he wasn’t in a joking mood. He raised his glass and saluted the dark sky visible through the windows behind him. “It’s after five.”
His friend heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You know what I mean. Your control—”
“Is shit these days and getting worse. You don’t have to remind me.” There was only a hint of growl in the words and Ky took a celebratory sip of his drink, draining his glass and reaching for the half-full bottle of fiery liquid sitting in the desk.
John snagged the bottle before Ky’s hand could close around it and disappeared, returning seconds later with his hands empty. “Have you even eaten?”
“No.” Ky glanced at the pajama-clad boys on the screen, faces glowing, bouncing off each other in excitement. “Couldn’t choke anything down.” Ky’s voice was harmonic and he cleared his throat, grasping for mastery over his dragon. “And that was five-hundred dollar scotch.”
John shrugged and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “It’s in a safe place.” He propped his backside against the desk, as if he hadn’t just stolen an unstable chimera’s only crutch. “I take it that doctor never called back?”
Ky rifled through his hair with both hands in frustration. “No, and from the doctor’s reaction we can’t call the phone. We know where it is, but not what we’re marching into. Thalia’s working on more.”
Happy squeals from the laptop drew both their attention. Ky’s mother was letting him hold baby Jake. The other boys crowded around, clamoring for turns. “Look at us. We doted on him.” His gruff partial laugh held no humor. “I swore I’d protect him—protect all of them.”
He pushed back from the desk, pouncing to his feet. “I can’t just sit here. Hell, I should have searched for them myself from the beginning, instead of wasting my time with Mythic Corp.”
“It took a professional more than ten years to find them.” John’s tone was repellently rational. “Even if you’d done better, which I doubt you could have, what could you have given them? A life on the run?”
“At least we would have been together.” Ky paced. “Goddamnit, John. I built all of this”—he waved a hand around the room—“for them. To find them, to protect them, and Ethan’s probably dead. Jake’s locked up. Tyler and Connor are in a fucking war zone . . .”
He blew out a stream of air. “I can’t wait any longer. I have to leave.”
John grabbed at Ky’s arm, but seemed to think better of it and
“Not my first thought, but a distant possibility. I’d like you to make an appointment.”
By the time Anjali put down the phone, she felt wrung out. Her world reeled, as out of control as a string of lit firecrackers. First, this upheaval at work and now health issues. She turned back toward the cellblock without conscious thought. She needed Jake.
Never mind that he didn’t want to see her, she needed the quiet strength of his presence and she was too tired to care why.
Ky put his legs up on his desk and took a sip of scotch, inhaling the potent fumes and letting the peaty flavor roll over his tongue, his gaze on the laptop monitor in front of him. His six year-old self waved at the camera. A huge smile stretched his round, baby face, displaying a gap in his teeth that would have done a jack ‘o lantern proud.
Ky sucked another swallow of scotch through his teeth. The little idiot. He had no idea how close he was to disaster. A Christmas tree glittered with tinsel and colored ornaments in the background. Toys and wrapping paper were strewn knee deep. The other boys ran or toddled around, depending on their ability. His mother smiled, Madonna sweet, from the overstuffed couch beside the tree, baby Jake cradled in her arms.
“Jesus, Ky. Drinking?” John leaned his shoulder against the open wooden cubbies that divided the office from the living room and kitchen.
Usually, Ky would have made a joke about a demon using the name of God, but he wasn’t in a joking mood. He raised his glass and saluted the dark sky visible through the windows behind him. “It’s after five.”
His friend heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You know what I mean. Your control—”
“Is shit these days and getting worse. You don’t have to remind me.” There was only a hint of growl in the words and Ky took a celebratory sip of his drink, draining his glass and reaching for the half-full bottle of fiery liquid sitting in the desk.
John snagged the bottle before Ky’s hand could close around it and disappeared, returning seconds later with his hands empty. “Have you even eaten?”
“No.” Ky glanced at the pajama-clad boys on the screen, faces glowing, bouncing off each other in excitement. “Couldn’t choke anything down.” Ky’s voice was harmonic and he cleared his throat, grasping for mastery over his dragon. “And that was five-hundred dollar scotch.”
John shrugged and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “It’s in a safe place.” He propped his backside against the desk, as if he hadn’t just stolen an unstable chimera’s only crutch. “I take it that doctor never called back?”
Ky rifled through his hair with both hands in frustration. “No, and from the doctor’s reaction we can’t call the phone. We know where it is, but not what we’re marching into. Thalia’s working on more.”
Happy squeals from the laptop drew both their attention. Ky’s mother was letting him hold baby Jake. The other boys crowded around, clamoring for turns. “Look at us. We doted on him.” His gruff partial laugh held no humor. “I swore I’d protect him—protect all of them.”
He pushed back from the desk, pouncing to his feet. “I can’t just sit here. Hell, I should have searched for them myself from the beginning, instead of wasting my time with Mythic Corp.”
“It took a professional more than ten years to find them.” John’s tone was repellently rational. “Even if you’d done better, which I doubt you could have, what could you have given them? A life on the run?”
“At least we would have been together.” Ky paced. “Goddamnit, John. I built all of this”—he waved a hand around the room—“for them. To find them, to protect them, and Ethan’s probably dead. Jake’s locked up. Tyler and Connor are in a fucking war zone . . .”
He blew out a stream of air. “I can’t wait any longer. I have to leave.”
John grabbed at Ky’s arm, but seemed to think better of it and
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