Sloane looked up at Arjun, a snarl lifting his lip behind his visor. He didn’t need to smell him, see his face, or hear his real voice to know who he was talking to. They’d trained and fought beside each other for decades. He’d know Arjun by something as ephemeral as his shadow.
Arjun dropped into a crouch before him. His dark visor covered a familiar bearded face that no doubt oozed contempt when he said, “You fucked up, Fortuner.”
Sloane didn’t respond. The part of him that was more animal than man was in control, determined to get back to his mate, and that part of him turned his head to assess who it was that held his arm.
Cesare.
He breathed deep, pushing hard against the niggling reluctance to harm their youngest teammate. They had an unspoken rule that Cesare got special treatment, strictly enforced by Sloane himself. He was the last to be snatched from his family and the youngest of them by decades. Sloane had basically raised the boy.
He’d done his best, anyway. Not that it did any good. Cesare still ended up a killing machine just like the rest of them.
“Let me go,” he bit out.
Both men froze. From somewhere deep in the wall, Vesta called out, “You’ve turned off your modulator?”
Cesare leaned more of his weight on Sloane’s arm. Despite all emotion being scrubbed from his voice, the young elf still managed to sound wounded when he demanded, “Why wouldyou do that? Why would you go AWOL? What are you doing, Sloane?”
Unable to face Cesare without feeling that uncomfortable, prickling pain in his chest, he turned his gaze back to Arjun, who was probably the unit's biggest asshole. “You’ve been assigned my capture, I assume.”
“Not yet. The captain has given you a grace period of forty-eight hours to return without consequences. Mostly.”
Surprise flickered through him. “What? Why?”
“Because as far as he knows, you haven’t menaced the public yet.”
“And Atria asked him to,” Cesare added. Not even the modulator could completely scrub the boyish adoration in his voice.
The sound of Vesta peeling herself out of the destroyed wall drew his attention. She dusted plaster and drywall debris off her shoulders as she strode across the room. “It’s against protocol, but she seems to believe you should be given a chance to come back.”
“She’s not a commanding officer,” he pointed out, too dumbfounded to feel grateful.
“Incorrect,” Vesta replied. “She’s the captain’s consort. That means she commands him, which makes her his superior officer.”
Thathe understood. Cecilia was in all wayshisCO, so he could only imagine what it was like for Kazimier.
“So you’re coming home,” Cesare announced, grip tightening for a painful second before he shoved Sloane away. “And everything will be good again.”
Whatever confused relief he might’ve felt knowing he could return mostly consequence-free evaporated in an instant.
Rising to his feet, he surveyed his teammates with a look of grim resignation. “I’m not coming back.”
“You can’t do that,” Vesta insisted. “They’ll kill you. They’ll makeuskill you.”
Sloane rolled his shoulder. There’d be bruises tomorrow, but they would hopefully heal before his doe got another look at him shirtless. And if not… well, he’d figure out an excuse, because he wasn’t turning down any chance to be touched by her again.
“You can’t kill me,” he informed them.Just like I can’t kill you. They’ll have to send another squad to do it.
Arjun stood up. Crossing his arms, he replied, “Depends on why you abandoned us.”
“What were you doing here? We got intel that you’d left the city days ago.” Vesta jabbed a dusty thumb at the tipped over drink cart that once was full of expensive alcoholic synth. “You hunting vampires or something?”
“He couldn’t be hunting vampires. They’re too easy. There’s no way that would take him away from us,” Cesare argued.
Vesta shook her helmeted head. Swiping a gloved hand over the visor, presumably so she could see through the dust that made a film over it, she replied, “Depends on the vampire. They can be creative. Of course, it’d still be embarrassing for him, but?—”
“I’m not hunting fucking vampires,” he hissed.
“Then what are you hunting?” Arjun stepped dangerously close to Sloane. Head tilting, he pressed,“Whoare you hunting?”
