The room’s temperature dropped about ten degrees. Talon’s relationship with an abhorrent, insufferable fallen angel was one of those subjects you brought up at the family dinner if you wanted to blow shit up.
Mace had been known to blow up a dinner or two.
“She has a name, you know,” Talon said.
She sure did. Mace, Scotty, and Blade called herAngelus Horribilis. It did not amuse her.
“I’ll bet she has many names.” Wraith’s lips peeled back in disgust, revealing massive fangs that Mace envied. Mace’s weren’t nearly as long. “And I’d bet she’s never told you what they are.”
“This might shock you, Dad, but I don’t give a shit.”
Wraith seemed relieved. “So, it’s just sex. Why don’t you—?”
“We’re not discussing this,” Talon snapped, and Mace hoped Wraith would let it go. At least for now. Everyone knew Talon was only dating the evil bitch to piss off his dad, but the more Wraith pushed, the more he shoved Talon closer to her.
When Wraith gave a reluctant nod, Talon turned to Mace. He still looked irritated, though. “You asked how Eva is doing. She’s stable for now. As for you, Dr. Vale cleared you for discharge. But,” he said, his voice taking on a note of doctorly gravity, “you have to keep your resting heart rate below fifty. That’s pretty high for our species, but youstill need to be careful. I’m going to send a monitoring application to your wrist comms. When your heart rate goes above fifty heartbeats per minute, the alarm will sound. If it goes above sixty, get to the hospital immediately.”
“Uh…why? What’ll happen if I don’t?”
“Heart failure,” Talon said bluntly. “The kind you’re unlikely to come back from.”
Not cool.
“He should stay here if he’s in that much danger.” Wraith looked over at Mace. “You don’t have to go.”
“Yeah,” Talon said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Because he loves being here so much.”
“For once, Talon’s right. I’m going home.” He looked down at his chest, as if he could see inside. “How long do I have to keep my heart rate down?”
“Give it twenty-four hours. Once your fever breaks, you’re out of the woods. So, take your temperature every couple of hours, and don’t do anything but rest. Have food delivered. And no sex. I’ll give you a prescription for a couple of doses of the suppressant StryTech developed.”
“Fuck that,” Mace said as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. He was so out of here. “Isn’t that drug dangerous? It nearly killed Stryke.”
Stryke hadn’t thought the suppressant Eidolon invented worked long enough, so he’d come up with a formula that allowed a Seminus demon to go up to a week without sex. But the side effects included restlessness, nausea, fertility, insanity, and death.
“Eidolon approved it for extreme short-term use,” Talon said. “It can cause fertility, so either take one dose of the usual suppressant, or take precautions the first time you have sex with a fertile female.”
“Oral only. Got it.”
“Or Masumi,” Wraith suggested. “She can’t get pregnant.”
“Speaking of Masumi,” Mace said, feeling a sudden need to poke the hornet’s nest, “she says she hasn’t bedded Talon in months. He’s been too busy with Scorn.”
“You just had to do that, didn’t you?” Talon snapped. “Like usual, you had to fucking insert yourself where you don’t belong.”
And that was the crux of the matter. Talon had never accepted Mace as his brother. Had always resented the fact that Wraith was Mace’s father too.
“According to you,” Mace shot back, “I don’t belong anywhere.”
“Stop.” Wraith’s sharp reprimand echoed through the room. “Knock it off. Both of you.”
Mace gestured to Talon. “He started it.”
“Go to hell—”
“I said, knock it off,” Wraith roared. “If I have to—”
“Hey!” Lore stuck his head into the room. “Raika’s here. And you’ll never believe who she brought with her.”
