Blade looked around in surprise as he entered the forensics lab on Underworld General’s second floor. The usually pristine space looked as if it had been hit by a tornado.
“Sabre, damn, this place is a disaster.”
His cousin shot him the finger. “No shit.”
Blade took in the overturned furniture, shattered equipment and glass, and destroyed containers leaking various-colored liquids. “What happened?”
“A Darquethoth mental patient escaped his ward and made his way to my lab.”
Blade considered that. “How the hell would you know that a Darquethoth demon has mental issues?”
Sabre shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe he doesn’t enjoy killing people?” He sighed and gestured to several smashed boxes. “And it figures that I’d just gotten twenty cases of material from a demon attack in Lisbon.”
“Don’t you have staff to help clean up?”
He barked out a bitter laugh. “It also figures that I gave my entire staff the day off for a colleague’s wedding. Fuck love, man.”
Blade felt that like an icepick to the heart. Fuck love, indeed.
“Here, let me give you a hand.” He bent over to pick up some bagged-evidence boxes, wincing at the million stabs of pain shooting through him. The training session today had been beyond brutal. The hot shower afterward had helped with the tension and pain, but he wouldn’t feel better until morning.
When they’d start the bullshit all over again.
He wanted to be pissed at Kynan for making them do this, but really, it was Mace’s fault. He’d said he was fine with what had happened between Blade and Scotty, and he’d lied. Then he’d let it fester until it erupted.
Where was Mace’s apology for that?
He loved Mace, he really did. But the guy had never apologized for anything in his life. He lived the way his bio-dad, Wraith, always had. As if the world revolved around him. The impulsive, devil-may-care shitmade him the cool guy, the Seminus demon all the young ones wanted to emulate.
It was wearing thin on Blade in a way it never had before.
Sabre nodded at Blade as he plopped the evidence boxes on a desk. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem. I’m just glad you’re taking the time to see me.”
“You said it couldn’t wait until I got back to the compound.”
“That’s because you don’t get off work for four more hours, and I need to get to bed.”
“Bed?” Sabre glanced at his watch. “You must have a female waiting for you.”
Blade reached back and rubbed his sore neck. “Nah. I’m just beat.” Literally. “Kynan sent us for two weeks of boot camp at Ares’s place.”
“Dayum.” Sabre cringed. “Why?”
“Because we fucked up. Bad. And he thinks torturing us will fix it.”
“Ouch.” Sabre sank down onto one of the stools and gestured to another, but Blade had too much nervous energy to sit. “Does this have anything to do with what was going on between you and Mace the other night?”
“Yeah.”
Sabre settled back on the stool and eyed Blade with the analytical gaze he’d inherited from his father. “So, this is about you sleeping with Scotty? Are you two together?”
“No. Hell, no.” Blade blew out a long breath. He didn’t want to talk about this, but damn, he needed help. “We aren’t together. It was an emergency situation during a mission. A one-time thing. Not romantic at all.”
She’d deserved so much better than what amounted to rutting in the mud like animals.
Sabre scrubbed his hand over his face. Dude was an expert in forensics, and no doubt he’d already done the postmortem on this situation. “I’m guessing Mace isn’t handling it well?”
