guard dog. But Dad already had one dead son, and he
wasn’t interested in losing another.
After all, good help was so hard to find.
“Not here to watch your back, Dae.” A lie. After
Lokan’s death, the old man had decreed that each of his
three remaining sons team up with each other or with
another soul reaper. They were supposed to watch each
other’s backs, because Sutekh hadn’t wanted to risk
losing another son to the bastards who’d killed his
youngest.
But who were the bastards? Wasn’t that the question
of the hour? Every hour.
“Not here to watch my back?” Dagan glanced at him
and snorted. “That’s a class-five storm of crap. I’ll just
wait till it passes.”
EVE SILVER
63
“I’m not interested in a row, though you seem to be
spoiling for one.” A faint hint of an English accent
clipped Alastor’s words, evidence that he’d grown up in
a far different place than Dagan. Each of the brothers
had. It was all part of Sutekh’s philosophy on child-rearing. Keep them apart. Don’t let them bond. Engender a
rabid sense of competition and distrust. The old man
hadn’t been too happy when it turned out that despite
distance and deprivation—or perhaps because of it—the
brothers ended up with an unbreakable connection.
They couldn’t climb inside each other’s thoughts,
not the way Sutekh could in the early years, but they
could sense when one of them needed the others. Sort
of a psychic 911.
