now.”
“We should have done something sooner, Nick. I’m sorry.”
“You couldn’t have helped me, Scott. I have seen too much, and nothing was ever going to get better. It’s all part and parcel of who we are. I needed something drastic to break the cycle, and Jeremy gave it to me.”
“He did,” agreed Ana. “But I still think he’s a prick.”
Nick smiled. “Maybe he is. But he’s mine now, and I’m keeping him.”
“Strays,” Ana thought again.
Nick stepped forward. “Excuse me,” he said aloud. The others turned to look at him. “It’s late, and we’re all tired.” He addressed Michelle. “If you want to continue this discussion, I’m sure you’d rather do it in private. The three of us maintain apartments in the city, and there’s probably a media circus at your home by now. You might want to consider spending the night here. Maybe in the morning we can all get together and decide what to do next.”
The Sentinels separated to their homes, with Ana agreeing to help Jeremy find the quarters the city’s central AI had assigned to him. Nick teleported directly back to his apartment after they had all left. Grabbing a bottle of Double Voice out of storage, he pulled off his boots and sat in his living room. Reaching out with his mind to the compact stereo on the bookcase nearby, he turned on some quiet jazz from Toby’s latest album and then settled into the slate-blue leather couch, staring morosely at the scale model of the Citadel on the glass coffee table.
He had kept up a stoic front for his family and Scott, but as he relaxed, he let himself feel his doubts and anxiety over what he’d done that day. There was no going back to what he had been before. He looked around his apartment and the memories it contained, knowing that his old life was gone.
Unlike the others, who had their families to take care of, Nick spent more time in his apartment than at his house in North Carolina. He had taken the time to move in properly and make it more like a home, softening the stark white walls with burgundy paint and covering the existing floor with a floating floor of cherry wood. The couch had been a present from his parents when he’d bought his first house back in Los Angeles, and he’d brought it with him to retain a connection to his past.
The walls were hung with photographs of his family and friends and the platinum album that, in a moment of vanity, he couldn’t resist displaying. The mahogany table and chairs were another present from his mother, as well as the matching cabinet that held her wedding china and fine crystal. Honestly, Nick wasn’t sure what to do with it all, but his mother had insisted, assuming he’d eventually get over his phase and get married. After a while, Nick just went along with it, rather than fight anymore. At least Toby was straight. Nick thought maybe he’d pass the whole setup to his brother when the younger Jameson finally tired of the perks of fame and stopped being such a ladies’ man.
Nick sighed as he sipped at his bloodwine. From the bedroom, the king-sized bed with Egyptian cotton sheets beckoned invitingly. He knew it was too late for second thoughts. This was his life, for better or for worse, and the apartment was going to be home now; not that he would have much time to spend at home if he understood the Triumvirate’s plans for him correctly. He hadn’t believed Ana at first when the Sentinel had related Takeshi’s words. Ambassador to Humanity. Christ. What the hell were they thinking? Might as well get drunk and enjoy it, because it might be the last night I’ll have to myself for quite a while.
He was just finishing his first glass of Tiamat when a soft tone resonated through the apartment, announcing a visitor. Sighing, he put down his glass and went to the front door. The door was in the center of the large Impressionist mural Rory had painted for him as a housewarming present. He checked the external monitor to see who it
“We should have done something sooner, Nick. I’m sorry.”
“You couldn’t have helped me, Scott. I have seen too much, and nothing was ever going to get better. It’s all part and parcel of who we are. I needed something drastic to break the cycle, and Jeremy gave it to me.”
“He did,” agreed Ana. “But I still think he’s a prick.”
Nick smiled. “Maybe he is. But he’s mine now, and I’m keeping him.”
“Strays,” Ana thought again.
Nick stepped forward. “Excuse me,” he said aloud. The others turned to look at him. “It’s late, and we’re all tired.” He addressed Michelle. “If you want to continue this discussion, I’m sure you’d rather do it in private. The three of us maintain apartments in the city, and there’s probably a media circus at your home by now. You might want to consider spending the night here. Maybe in the morning we can all get together and decide what to do next.”
The Sentinels separated to their homes, with Ana agreeing to help Jeremy find the quarters the city’s central AI had assigned to him. Nick teleported directly back to his apartment after they had all left. Grabbing a bottle of Double Voice out of storage, he pulled off his boots and sat in his living room. Reaching out with his mind to the compact stereo on the bookcase nearby, he turned on some quiet jazz from Toby’s latest album and then settled into the slate-blue leather couch, staring morosely at the scale model of the Citadel on the glass coffee table.
He had kept up a stoic front for his family and Scott, but as he relaxed, he let himself feel his doubts and anxiety over what he’d done that day. There was no going back to what he had been before. He looked around his apartment and the memories it contained, knowing that his old life was gone.
Unlike the others, who had their families to take care of, Nick spent more time in his apartment than at his house in North Carolina. He had taken the time to move in properly and make it more like a home, softening the stark white walls with burgundy paint and covering the existing floor with a floating floor of cherry wood. The couch had been a present from his parents when he’d bought his first house back in Los Angeles, and he’d brought it with him to retain a connection to his past.
The walls were hung with photographs of his family and friends and the platinum album that, in a moment of vanity, he couldn’t resist displaying. The mahogany table and chairs were another present from his mother, as well as the matching cabinet that held her wedding china and fine crystal. Honestly, Nick wasn’t sure what to do with it all, but his mother had insisted, assuming he’d eventually get over his phase and get married. After a while, Nick just went along with it, rather than fight anymore. At least Toby was straight. Nick thought maybe he’d pass the whole setup to his brother when the younger Jameson finally tired of the perks of fame and stopped being such a ladies’ man.
Nick sighed as he sipped at his bloodwine. From the bedroom, the king-sized bed with Egyptian cotton sheets beckoned invitingly. He knew it was too late for second thoughts. This was his life, for better or for worse, and the apartment was going to be home now; not that he would have much time to spend at home if he understood the Triumvirate’s plans for him correctly. He hadn’t believed Ana at first when the Sentinel had related Takeshi’s words. Ambassador to Humanity. Christ. What the hell were they thinking? Might as well get drunk and enjoy it, because it might be the last night I’ll have to myself for quite a while.
He was just finishing his first glass of Tiamat when a soft tone resonated through the apartment, announcing a visitor. Sighing, he put down his glass and went to the front door. The door was in the center of the large Impressionist mural Rory had painted for him as a housewarming present. He checked the external monitor to see who it
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