When he got home, he unlocked the front door, hung his keys on the hook under the stair rail, and followed the long hallway to the kitchen, where he dug the steaks out of the fridge and began prepping them. All around him were memories of a happier time. The tile he’d laid in the kitchen with his squad. The ding on the side of his fridge when Lyle and Ellis were moving it into place and hit it on the edge of the countertop.
He’d overheard them saying they thought Daniel should have been banished—just for holding meetings for a handful of people who disliked the direction Sloan was taking the guild. He’d barely spoken to them since.
After a few moments of silence, he leaned over and hit the button for the radio with his elbow, sighing heavily, and then stepped outside to get the charcoal going.
The back deck was a new addition, built by the squad when he was in the middle of remodeling that first year. Prior to that, it had only some concrete steps and a gravel walkway that led to the little square shed. Now, it had a sizable deck and a roof to match. The grill sat over on the left, near the railing, and soon the smoky scent of charcoal hung in the air. Closing the lid, he ventured back inside.
Despite himself, he wondered what it was like at the skating rink. Were they happy with their demons? Were the friendships between them all as easy as his used to be with his squad? Did they ever regret leaving the guild and throwing everything into chaos?
That probably wasn’t fair. He couldn’t blame them for the guild’s problems. They’d left, after all. He shouldn’t even think it, but it was Sloan’s fault that tensions were so high. If he’d just let the traitors go without a fuss, none of this would be happening. Daniel wouldn’t look so haunted. His squad would still be united.
The cheerful chime of the doorbell interrupted his spiraling thoughts, and he shook himself.
“Come in!” he hollered.
The door opened, and the familiar sounds of Nicolas and Daniel filled the house, soothing something in him he hadn’t realized was ruffled. He’d missed them.
They appeared in the doorway a moment later, one after the other.
“Good timing. I was just about to take these out to the grill.”
“We’ll join you outside, then,” Nicolas said. “You have beer?”
“Of course, in the fridge.”
Nicolas blew out a breath. “I could use one. Or five.”
Julian chuckled, but there was no real humor in the sound. “Help yourself. Grab me one, too, will you?”
Daniel trailed after him out onto the back deck while Nicolas popped the tops off their bottles. It was frowned upon in the guild to drink alcohol, but plenty of people still did it. They just didn’t talk about it.
There were lots of things these days the guild didn’t talk about.
Daniel eased himself down into one of the wooden rockers that sat adjacent to the grill. Julian tracked the movement fromthe corner of his eye. He hadn’t asked about the wounds on his back from his punishment, but the sight of the bloodied lashes was seared into his memory. They were probably mostly healed by now, but they might still be sore. And they were most definitely going to scar. Father Conroy hadn’t been gentle. In fact, Julian thought—privately, in the quiet safety of his own mind—that Conroy had been downright sadistic. They’dwantedall of the dissenters to carry the memory of that moment for the rest of their lives, and his actions that day had instilled an insidious fear of befalling the same fate into the rest of the guild.
Nicolas joined them a moment later, passing out cold bottles and settling in the rocker beside Daniel.
It was quiet for a while as Julian put the seasoned steaks on the grill and closed the lid. Nicolas wore a contented expression on his face, and even Daniel seemed to be losing some of the tension he’d carried with him for the last few weeks.
“I’ve missed this,” Nicolas finally said.
Julian nodded. “Me, too. Things haven’t been great, have they?”
Nicolas blew out a breath. “No, they haven’t. I don’t know how we get back to the way things used to be, though.”
“I don’t think we can,” Daniel said softly. “All we can do is keep moving forward.”
“We’re still fighting demons, I guess,” Julian said. That was their purpose, after all.
“Are we?” Nicolas asked. “When was the last time any of our squad went out on a patrol?”
Julian sighed. They’d been watching the traitors for weeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d killed a demon—before last night, that is.
“What else can we do?” he asked, lifting the grill’s lid and flipping the steaks. “We can’t disobey. I’m not even sure weshould mention wanting a different detail. Sloan doesn’t want to hear a peep out of anyone.”
“No, he just wants obedience,” Daniel agreed. A soft breeze ruffled his and his brother’s dark curls. “So we keep our heads down and we do what we’re told.”
Julian’s mouth tightened into an unhappy line. He didn’t want to blindly obey. “It’s not supposed to be like this.”
