Caleb stood proudly in front of the church with a satisfied smirk that didn’t leave his face, even as he slid into his black car and drove away.

When he was gone, Lance climbed into the passenger seat of the police car. Malcolm, George, Derek, and Kaela pressed against each other in the back. Eric drove.

The stench of rotting flesh filled the car, and Eric opened the rest of the windows, which only welcomed the new smell of burning trash.

Kaela requested a pain pill, and Eric took the bottle from his jacket and tossed it to her. She swallowed one then offered one to Lance. “For your leg.”

He yearned to grab the bottle, take a handful, and forget about the world for a while. More and more, he missed that sweet relief. Still, he managed to refuse them.

Kaela fell asleep minutes later. Derek nodded off soon after, and Malcolm frowned at the window and muttered to himself. It sounded like some kind of formula.

“Were you really telling the truth?” Lance whispered, glancing back at the group.

Eric was silent for a moment as he aimed a lingering stare into the rearview mirror. “George, do me a favor and cover your ears, will you?”

George raised an eyebrow but followed the request anyway. Malcolm grinned and mimicked the action. “Yes, of course. Blocking out the noise should help me think.”

Eric surveyed them with another glance at the mirror before muttering with a sigh, “Yes, I was telling the truth.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “And is that all you have to say about it?”

“I will give you answers once we are somewhere more private.”

With an annoyed snort, Lance leaned his head out the window, just to breathe in some night air, bitter as it was. The moon cast its soothing light on his face. He gripped the cane loosely and rubbed the smooth metal handle with his thumb. He traced every crevice and indentation in the carving. A wolf’s head. His thumb rubbed over the cold metal eyes, the ears, the snarling mouth.

“Why a wolf?” The question came out before Lance could stop himself.

Eric smiled and glanced down at the cane. Finally, a question he seemed willing to answer.

“The wolf is a symbol of loyalty and perseverance.” His smile widened. “It’s a reminder to have both at all times.”

Lance hummed. “You weren’t loyal to me, though. Dropped me off like I was a broken toy.”

“You’re right,” Eric said. “I wasn’t loyal to you. And that’s why I chose that carving. Every time I hold that cane, I know it’s a wolf’s head I’m holding onto. It’s a reminder of what I did and a warning not to make that mistake again… or try not to, anyway. It’s good to stay with my pack, and I’m working on it.”

There it was, that rare sincerity that hid somewhere within Eric. Underneath the instability of his actions, his mind seemed perfectly fine. All a show, a performance for them, to look unpredictable to friends and enemies. Lance scoffed as he thought about it, then scoffed again as he considered just how fake that sincerity might be.

“Trying to stay with the pack, yet you left us behind to go to Agni and put me in charge?”

Eric smiled again, but it wasn’t the taunting grin nor the wicked smile like the snarl Lance ran his thumb over.

“I did say ‘working on it’. Besides, leaving was as much for you as it was me.” Eric stole another glance in the rearview mirror. “I was curious to see how you would be as a leader. Should anything happen to me, I need someone willing to take my place. I told you this.” His voice was barely a whisper, and even Lance had trouble hearing it.

“And what makes you think I would ever want to take over for you? Maybe I want to go back to my store and live some semblance of a normal life.”

Eric’s smile faltered. “Call it a hunch. I just have this feeling you’ll change your mind. And anyway, I think with some practice, you could make a great leader. You have potential.”

Lance dug his nail into the cane handle. Anger gripped his heart, and that beast stirred within him, just a little. “Whatever. I’ll allow you to keep that fantasy in your head. When this is all over, I’m out, and I expect to keep my store with its renovations in return for all I’ve done.” It wasn’t an act this time. He didn’t puff his chest out, nor did he hide his expression. The anger and the demand were as genuine as the beast stirring in his stomach.

Eric said nothing after that, and Lance didn’t bother looking at him to see what his reaction was. It didn’t matter, anyway. He was in pain, being hunted, and could die any day. If there was any time to make such a demand, it was now.

Eric parked the police car on the side of the road once they reached the outer ring of the slums. They woke Derek and Kaela and abandoned the car, treading lightly until they were out of the slums and crossing the street to an empty parking lot. After the dash, they stopped to catch their breath, shrouded in darkness.

“So now what?” Lance asked, sitting against a wall and laying out his sore leg. “Our last hideout’s probably guarded by now, and we dealt with the chief, but now we have to deal with something ten times worse.”

“I’m more interested in learning how Caleb managed to blow the church up like that,” Derek said. “It didn’t look like any explosives I’ve ever seen.”

Everyone looked at Malcolm, who perked his head up and shushed them. A second later, a police car drove by. Once it rounded a corner, he settled down.

“Yes, should explain,” Malcolm said, his voice shaky as his eyes darted all around the alley. “Blood connection. Drug given to Caleb, chief of police, Daniel. All alpha strain. More special than beta strain given to officers and Daniel’s soldiers.” He paused. “Appears to be more of a connection than originally hypothesized. I could… sense the blood, the drug within it. Brother ignited it like gasoline within the fallen soldiers and used their bodies as explosives. So powerful, it blew up the back half of the church.” His eyes widened. “Truly incredible. Shouldn’t even be possible. Not for him, anyway.” He grinned. “Very creative brother.” His smile became a frown. “And scary.”

Derek shook his head. “I don’t understand how he can turn blood into an explosive.”

“Oh,” Malcolm put a hand to his mouth and laughed quietly. “Did I forget to mention the secret ingredient of my magnum opus?” His question was met with silence, but he answered anyway. “Nanobots.” He tried to suppress another laugh but failed. His face brightened like a child’s.

More silence, until Derek said, “You mean like… the kind of nanobots you see in those sci-fi movies? Those nanobots?”

“Inspired by the same premise, but not quite executed in the same way.”

Kaela rubbed her head. “Did I hear that right, or are these painkillers stronger than I thought?” She glared at Malcolm. “So you made a drug to control people and use them as… robots, basically?”

“No,” Malcolm said, nearly singing. “Had no such intention. I wanted to rid the world of disease… longer life spans. Nanobots within their bloodstream would attack viruses and diseases more effectively than any other medicine in the world. And I… well, I wanted to live forever… to continue my research unhindered by age. Began working on a strain that would work exclusively to keep me alive for centuries. Much more potent than the strains given to my brothers. I cannot control nanobots, however, only sense them.”

Derek crossed his arms. “That doesn’t explain how Caleb blew up a church using those… nanobots.”

“A fault of my brothers, unfortunately. Daniel wanted his own strain for him and his soldiers. Was how the idea of alpha and beta bots came to me. Daniel could issue orders to his men wordlessly. Combat effectiveness increased by tenfold. Alongside healing them, making them stronger.” He went quiet, and the police car rounded the corner again before disappearing. “Harmless, I thought. I developed his strain as a side project while working on my own. Must have done something wrong. Alphas could… manipulate his soldiers’ thoughts. Convince them of things they wouldn’t believe, like a whisper in their ears. And then Caleb found out… I don’t know how he has such control over the bots… He has not had the time to understand them as I do.

“He has always lusted for control. Sees city as one big experiment. With Landreau Corp’s men, and control over police department, he can practice control over beta drug. Somehow alpha drug has twisted his mind. Made his obsession for control overwhelming. He intends to take over country, maybe even world, with these nanobots. Holding world leaders under his thumb.” He shook his head, and his hands trembled. “I do not wish to know what such a world would look like, especially with the influence of nanobots.”

Eric leaned closer. “How could you make a drug like that?”

“I did not intend to create the alpha and beta bots for their current purpose. It was supposed to increase the effectiveness of Daniel’s men—that is all… Somehow, the nanobots can… speak to each other, and alphas can manipulate betas in nearly any way fathomable.” He sighed. “A modern-day blood magic, if you think about it.” He started a laugh then cut it off. “Would be proud if my creation were not being used in vain.”

Lance watched carefully as a smile started to crawl onto Eric’s face until he wiped his mouth and it disappeared. “So you willingly made this drug for your brothers?”

“I did,” Malcolm said. “Though at the time, my judgement was clouded. Was busy trying to perfect the nanobots that would be going into my bloodstream. To ensure it was safe. Never knew it would turn into this.” He looked out at the street, toward all the chaos created by Landreau Corp and triggered by Eric. “I am no better than my brothers. So caught up in my own selfish desire. Should’ve seen this coming.”

“You can still fix this,” Lance said. “If you can make a cure.”

“We can talk about this later,” Kaela said. “We’ve wasted enough time as it is. We need to go somewhere.”

Eric looked her in the eye. “What about the Rose?”

“I closed all of my Roses except the one on Main Street,” Kaela said. “Does Caleb not know about me owning that business?”

Eric shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. It depends if Rotoya mentioned anything about it. There’s always the chance she told Caleb, but the closest safe place for us is the Rose, and surely Caleb wouldn’t think we’d be dumb enough to go there.”

Kaela narrowed her eyes. “But we are dumb enough to go there.”

Eric sighed. “We don’t need to stay there. We just need a place to wash up, get some food, and get out before Caleb even suspects us.”

Kaela sighed and rubbed her head. “We have a basement that we could hide Malcolm in…” She cursed then held a finger up. “One night. That’s it. Then we’re leaving and hiding somewhere else.”

“So it’s settled?” Derek asked.

Lance stood clumsily. “Even if it’s close by, how are we all going to get there without being seen?”

“Well…” Derek looked at the three vehicles parked nearby. “I guess we have to take a car.”

Before anyone could protest, Derek was already walking to the nearest truck. He peeked into the cargo bed then turned back to wave them over.

“It should be just big enough to fit all of us.” Derek turned his head toward George. “Can you drive us?”

The doctor looked like a deer caught in headlights. “The Red Rose… Yes, I saw it on the way to that auto repair shop.” He hesitated. “I… I think I remember where it is.”

Derek nodded. “Good, because you’re the only one of us that Caleb doesn’t know about.”

They clambered into the cargo bed and closed the tailgate. They were exposed from above, but at least no cars would see them.

Lance couldn’t breathe. The stench of Malcolm wasn’t any less sickening than it’d been earlier, and being trapped so close to him, even with fresh air, turned his stomach. Every time the truck lurched to a stop, he almost lost whatever was left in his growling stomach.

“Someone distract me before I vomit,” Lance finally said.

“Same here,” Kaela mirrored.

Eric coughed. “Babies.” His voice was strained, and Lance knew he was feeling sicker than any of them.

“Must admit,” Malcolm said, “small possibility I can properly research a cure. Large possibility I will never be able to procure it. Not without proper equipment. Important pieces in my bag, but basic equipment will suffice to complete my set.”

“Your office didn’t have any equipment that I can remember,” Derek said, his voice nasally from pinching his nose.

“It doesn’t,” Malcolm said. “My equipment is in the labs on the third floor.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Well, you can forget about us trying to infiltrate Landreau Corp again.”

Kaela also spoke with a nasally voice. “I have a friend that has some equipment, I think. Nothing heavy duty, but maybe it could help you.”

Lance glanced at the rooftops, praying with all his might that no officers or agents were watching them. There were no signs of movement like earlier, but it didn’t mean nobody was there.

The rest of the way to The Red Rose was silent, only broken on occasion by coughs or swears when the stench worsened. Malcolm seemed completely unfazed by all of it. The truck came to a stop, and they waited until a pat rapped on the side of the truck to move.

When Lance jumped from the cargo bed, he felt like he’d been underwater, and he gasped for the cool, fresh night air. Kaela and Derek did the same, but Eric looked to be mostly fine.

Probably a façade, Lance thought as Eric stumbled on his footing as if slightly drunk.

Derek bent over for a few seconds next to the truck, and Kaela had to pat him on the back before he stood straight again. He looked sicker than the rest of them, but he’d been placed the closest to Malcolm as well.

Poor soul.

George had parked the truck in the alley next to the Rose, and after a nice long breather, Kaela knocked on the side entrance. The door opened slowly, and Amari poked her head out. When she saw Kaela, the door burst open, and she leapt forward, grabbing her in a hug. The door nearly hit Malcolm, who they’d told to wait behind it so that Amari wouldn’t be taken aback at the sight of a living, breathing, rotting man.

When Amari and Kaela separated, she said, “The police have been looking everywhere for you guys. I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“How’s business, Amari?” Kaela asked. “Have the police been here at all, asking any questions?”

Amari shook her head. “Nobody.”

“Good,” Kaela said. “We need you to hide us for the night, and we’re keeping a friend here in the basement.”

Amari looked at George.

“Not him,” Kaela said. “Just… just let us inside. And don’t panic.”

“Okay,” Amari said. “Whatever you say, girl.”

She stepped aside, and everyone walked in, including Malcolm.

Amari gasped, but when she made eye contact with Kaela, she swallowed the scream before it could escape. After a quick look around, she closed the door behind them. “What the hell are you?”

“A scientist,” Malcolm responded.

Lance remembered the smell of the place, the perfume that permeated the air, the soft lighting, the glowing neon signs, the sound of giggling girls and jazz music, and the nude pictures and paintings everywhere. Something about it was comforting, familiar—better than the last few places they’d been.

Amari darted past Malcolm and went to Kaela’s side, holding her nose. Kaela turned to face them all, and Amari did the same.

“Our… unwell friend, Malcolm, is the one that we’ll be keeping in the basement. Have some of the girls spray the place with perfume, light some candles and incense, and for the love of God, please tell them not to scream or panic when they see him. Warn them that he looks…” She glanced at him. “Well, dead. Tell them he has a skin condition. Not contagious.”

Amari nodded and turned to walk away.

“And another thing,” Kaela added. “Bring your chemistry equipment down to the basement.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Amari crinkled her nose. “My chemistry set? It’s already in the basement. I haven’t touched it in years.”

“Perfect,” Kaela said then waved Amari away.

With a nod and a lingering stare of confusion at Malcolm, Amari was off again. Kaela rushed them to her office.

Lance looked down at himself as they walked past some of the girls. Eric and Derek stood on each side of Malcolm in a pathetic attempt to hide his condition. They were all smelly and covered in blood, both red and purple. Their armor and clothes were torn and worn out.

Kaela opened the door to her office and urged them all inside while she addressed two more girls.

“I need one of you to bring us six sets of clothes from the store down the street. Two XLs, three mediums, and just grab me something comfortable from my closet, please.” She turned her attention to the other girl. “As for you, I need you to get all the showers ready. Let me know when you’re done.”

Both girls nodded and were gone in a flash.

Lance stared at Kaela. Her usual grace and balance were still present, still as catlike as ever, but she was unflinching, unmoving, and powerful in every word she spoke, like a strict mother instructing her children. The moment she closed the door and stepped to her desk, the strict manner melted away, and she was the casual, lazy feline once again, even as she held her ribs with a wince.

She sat in her chair with a groan and reached into her desk drawer. “It feels good to be home,” she said, pulling out an unopened bottle of wine and a wine opener. She popped the cork and took a hearty gulp from the bottle. She then held the bottle out for anyone that also wanted some.

Malcolm took a step forward to reach for the bottle, but she drew it back with a glare. He retreated into the corner. Derek and Eric both refused the offer, but then Kaela pointed the bottle at Lance. He took it from her hands, hesitantly.

“Kaela…” Derek said, his voice fading as the aroma seduced Lance’s senses.

Lance stared at the bottle, one side of him screaming to put it down, to not take the risk. Then again, the other side urged him to drink. After everything he’d been through tonight, and the pain in his leg not getting any better, a small buzz would surely help.

Better than risking the painkillers, right?

“Nope,” Kaela said, yanking the bottle from Lance’s hand. He blinked, ripped from his trance. Panic seized his chest as he looked around the room. Eric eyed him, as did George.

“He’s allergic,” Kaela said smoothly. “Feel free to sit on the floor.” She smiled. “And Malcolm, sweetie, please don’t lose a tooth in my office.”

“When can I begin my research?” Malcolm asked, not a demand but a desperate plea.

Kaela smiled kindly at him, a fire in her eyes. She was about to say something terrible, but then she looked at Lance, and the fire dimmed. Her smile darkened, and she returned her attention to Malcolm. “Soon,” she said simply, eyeing Lance as she took another sip from her bottle.

“You shouldn’t be drinking after taking a pain pill,” George warned.

“Don’t patronize me, Doc.”

“Hey, be nice,” Eric warned.

Lance raised an eyebrow. Seeing Eric defend another person like that… George really must be special to him.

A knock sounded on the door, and everyone’s attention went to one of the girls Kaela had sent off. “The showers are ready, ma’am.”

* * *

Lance groaned as the hot water rained down on his back, his head, his arms and chest. He closed his eyes and let the relaxing shower ease the tension from his body. Some of his cuts stung in response, but he couldn’t care less. He’d been through so much action and blood and killing and running in the past few days, and he could finally just sit down.

He looked down at the dirt and blood rinsing down the drain.

In this moment, with nothing but the sound of the running water in his shower stall and the ones adjacent to it, nothing else mattered. Everyone else was getting their own showers, no doubt enjoying them just as much as he was, the stalls next to him blocked off by a white tiled barrier.

He let the water hit his leg especially, as pain continued to course through it. His splint was abandoned with the rest of his clothes outside the stall, and George had already promised to bandage his leg back up. He was sitting on a small wooden chair, and as embarrassing as it had been to watch one of the workers carry it in with an understanding smile on her face, he was grateful to avoid standing for as long as possible.

After a few generous minutes of just sitting in the shower with his thoughts, he bathed himself, taking his time with the process, having to scrub more dirt and blood off than he’d realized was there.

After a while, Lance finished cleaning and stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped firmly around his waist. He grabbed for the cane and slipped on the wet floor, catching himself just in time. He looked around the bathroom, but he was the only person left.

On the walk to the door, he tested his leg a bit. The shower had eased some of the tension, and the pain had become manageable. But when he put weight on it, it ached in response, a warning to not continue.

But then he tried again on the next step, pushing harder against the ground. Pain sliced into his leg, and he collapsed, the cane clattering across the floor. “Dammit!”

A second later, the door opened, and without thinking, Lance hissed, “Get out.” His wet hair hung over his face as he swore into the floor and pain bit into his leg without remorse.

Whoever opened the door paused then walked in, closing it afterward. Footsteps clacked on the tile floor, then a pair of black combat boots walked into Lance’s cone of vision.

Lance sighed as he looked up, meeting Kaela’s face, smiling down at him with a raised eyebrow. Her hair was in a tight bun.

“Is there a problem here?” she asked.

Lance cursed and crawled toward the cane, muttering to himself as he imagined the look on Kaela’s face, watching him crawl to the only thing he could use to walk.

Kaela sighed and kicked his cane to him.

Lance stopped the growl forming in the back of his throat as he grabbed the cane and tried to help himself up. Kaela sighed again and held her hand out.

Lance knew the look he gave her was filled with anger, but her face remained neutral. After a few long seconds, he hesitantly grabbed her hand and let her help him.

“You okay?” she asked.

Lance sat at one of the benches across from the stalls and took a deep breath. “Fantastic.”

She shook her head. “You’re lucky your towel didn’t fall off.” She laughed. “Now, wouldn’t that have been a sight to see?”

“Not a sight you haven’t seen a hundred times before, I’m sure.”

Kaela met his eyes, and her playful smile disappeared. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying.” A glimpse of the smile returned then disappeared again. “Sorry. I know this isn’t a good time to be making jokes.” She folded both sides of her short leather jacket over her chest, covering the simple white shirt beneath. “Also, I might be a little buzzed.”

Lance swiped a chunk of wet hair from his face. “It’s okay. A little humor might be what I need right now.”

Kaela let out a dry laugh in response. “If it makes you feel better, I usually only want to make jokes like that to cheer up my friends… like Amari. But I’ll make an exception this time for you.” When Lance gave a half smile, she let herself smile back. “See? I can’t help it.”

“It’s fine, really,” Lance said. “Just don’t worry about it. Can you ask George to come wrap my leg back up?”

Kaela wiped her hands on her dark jeans. “Sure thing.”

She started toward the door, but Lance called her name without thinking. Her hand was on the door handle, and she didn’t turn to look at him.

“I, um…” He tried to find the words to say. “I like your outfit.”

Now she looked at him, and in those catlike eyes was a flicker of something that resembled confusion.

But she smiled. “I do too. That’s why I’m wearing it.” She left the room, and on the other side of the door, she spoke again, her voice muffled.

Not long afterward, George stepped in, wearing a simple black shirt and jogging pants. He held the materials for a new splint and a fresh set of clothes.

“How long was I in the shower?” Lance asked as the doctor handed him the clothes, then he started dressing.

“About an hour, I think.”

Lance stopped with his shirt still over his head. “Are you serious?”

“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise. Eric was cracking jokes, and Kaela may or may not have joined in.” He laughed with a shake of his head. “You kids are crazy.”

With more trouble than he wished for, Lance changed into the new clothes, black jogging pants, just like George’s, with a navy-blue shirt and a black jacket. George wiped the remaining water off the chair, and Lance sat, his leg extended for the doctor to work.

“I heard you fell,” George said. “Did you hurt anything else?”

Lance shook his head.

“You tried to put more pressure on it than you should have?”

Lance nodded.

“You’re sick of walking with the cane?”

“You’re just good at guessing, aren’t you?”

George chuckled then continued. The splint fit tightly on his leg, and as uncomfortable as it felt, it was better than trying to walk on it otherwise.

“Does Eric have a limp?” Lance asked through gritted teeth.

George eyed the wall for a second as he wrapped Lance’s leg, as if considering whether or not to say anything. “Eric sprained his leg pretty badly when he got into that helicopter crash in Agni.” He shifted in his position and continued his work. “I’ve told him not to put much pressure on it, but he’s pretty much ignoring me at this point.”

Lance looked at the cane lying beside him. “So… he gave me his cane when he needs it himself?”

George seemed to realize what Lance was saying. “Your injury is more severe than Eric’s, but yes, he did give it to you despite needing it himself.”

“Hmm,” Lance said. “Well, I can’t wait until I can walk on this leg again so I can give it back.”

“I know you’re impatient,” George said as he helped Lance to his feet. “I also know that you’re not exactly in the best of situations to be injured. But don’t push yourself too hard yet. All that walking and fighting—there’s no reason why you wouldn’t be sore.” He opened the door for Lance, who tried to hide his grimace as he walked through. “Right now, the best thing you can do is get some rest.”

“I think we could all use some rest,” Derek said.

“Where’s Malcolm?” Lance asked, looking around. The place was closing for the night. Fewer girls walked the halls, and there were no clients to be seen.

No walking corpses, either.

“He’s already in the basement, brainstorming this cure business,” Kaela said. “And we are staying here for the night, by the way. We have plenty of rooms. Top floor, scattered so that we’re harder to find.” She adjusted her jacket again. “So for now, we’re safe. Best thing we can do is get a good night’s sleep.”

Eric turned to walk up the stairs. “Amen to that.”

* * *

Lance fell back on the soft bed, the blood-red comforter warm and cozy. The pillows were as soft as clouds. He closed his eyes and breathed in the perfumed smell of the room, and when he opened them, he looked at the ceiling. Just like the comforter, it was blood red—the walls too.

The curtains to his left were a soft pink and already partially opened, revealing a sliver of Arachna. Somewhere beyond that sliver, Caleb was either working on his plan for world domination or searching for Eric.

Lance sighed and turned away from the sight, from the realization that he wouldn’t be able to safely walk around the city again for a long time. He was clean, in a soft bed, and if Kaela was right, food was on the way. What I would do for a sandwich right now.

A knock sounded at the door, and Lance smiled as he slid out of the bed and rushed to answer it. The cane was quiet against the soft carpet of the room. Being rid of that annoying clacking for a while was more satisfying than it should have been. He expected a worker on the other side of the door, bringing him a platter of food. Instead, when he opened it, Eric’s devilish smile peered at him from under his blond hair.

“May I come in?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.

Lance leaned out and looked left then right. No worker was behind him—nobody bringing food.

“Fine,” Lance groaned and stepped aside.

Eric walked in as if he owned the room, tossing his coat on the floor and falling onto the bed. Just like Lance, he wore jogging pants, but his shirt was a short-sleeve white T-shirt just like Kaela’s. He’d kept his trench coat, dirty as it was, and had blatantly refused any of the workers’ attempts to clean it for him.

Kaela would kill him if she knew he’d thrown the dirty thing on the floor.

“Nobody touches it but me,” he’d said. Lance would’ve crossed his arms if he didn’t have a cane in one of them, so instead, he leaned against the wall, distributing his weight to his good leg.

“Are you ready to talk about…” Lance couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Those words still haunted him every time he thought about it.

Eric wasn’t smiling anymore. He sat up with that genuine glaze over his eyes, the same one he’d worn when he first broke the news to Lance. The more he saw it, the more it appeared to be an act.

“I think so,” he said, looking out the window then promptly leaving the bed to close the curtains further. “But I need you to talk quietly. If anyone hears what I’m telling you, I’ll have to kill them.”

Lance didn’t know why he was shocked to hear those words, but then Eric chuckled, a wheezy laugh following as he tried to silence himself.

“Kidding. I would only bribe or threaten them.”

“Are you going to get to the point, or should I skip to the part where I ask you to leave?”

Eric shrugged. “I guess you’ll just have to ask me to leave.”

Lance swore smoke would blow from his nose as Eric’s smile only grew with each passing moment of silence.

“You see? You won’t. Because you rely on knowing this information. You need to learn what to say and when to say it if you want to get information out of people. You’ll need to know this when—” He stopped at Lance’s glare then rolled his eyes. “If you end up taking over.”

“Thanks for the advice. Now, tell me why you said I was—” Eric put a single finger to his mouth, and now it was Lance’s turn to roll his eyes before lowering his voice. “That I’m your… son.”

Eric sat on the bed and gestured for Lance to sit next to him. Lance didn’t acknowledge the action at first, but putting so much weight on his good leg was tiring. He gave in and limped to the bed then sat next to Eric. His body protested being so close to him, and his hand slid casually to the handle of the cane, where his finger kept a thumb’s distance from the switch. He had no reason to be ready for an attack from Eric, yet his body told him to do so anyway.

If Eric noticed the action, he either didn’t care, or he pretended not to.

“How long have you known I was your son?” Lance asked as he stared forward.

“Since the day you were born.” Lance thought it was a cheap joke, but Eric’s face was serious. “I never lost track of you, not really. I knew you were being raised at that orphanage. I was the one that left you there.”

“Wait,” Lance said. “When did you have me?” His heart sank. “And who with?” He could never remember her face, only fuzzy images of someone with dark hair holding him.

“I was fifteen when I found out she was pregnant.” Eric played with his fingers, his hair hiding his face. “I stayed with her for a few months, but she wanted to live a better life for your sake. No more scamming. No more stealing.”

Lance swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I was too selfish,” Eric continued. “I only cared about myself, so I told her no. That I would keep making money the way I was, and that I would eventually make something of myself with it. I said if she could wait a few years, I would manage something more stable.” He tucked his hair behind his ears, and something like sadness showed in his eyes. “I left her not long after that. Gave her a few grand I had saved up over the years, and I just left. I kept an eye on her until she left the city. We were hiding in Agni at the time, living on the streets.

“She went to Arachna, so I left with her. Or… followed her. I was her shadow everywhere she went, and I decided to build myself up in Arachna. She got a job at a burger joint for a while. When she couldn’t go out and work, I can only assume she used the money I left for her.” He cleared his throat, but his voice cracked anyway when he spoke again. “Months passed, and she went into labor. She took a taxi to a hospital, and… in that moment, I decided I was tired of following her. I wanted to be there… to be a father.” His voice cracked again, and his eyes glistened in the lamplight. “I jumped in the taxi with her. She cried the whole way there. She let me hold her and talk to her. All I could say was, ‘I’m sorry’.

“Over and over, that was all I said until we reached the hospital. It took hours… The doctors told me that you were a healthy baby boy.” He stopped and gripped his knee tightly, then cleared his throat again. “But she, um… She didn’t make it.”

Lance couldn’t look at him, could barely stand to hear him constantly clearing his throat and sniffling. Not a tear rolled down his cheek, but his eyes were like two dams, raring to burst.

“I couldn’t handle being a father alone. I couldn’t take having a constant reminder that she wasn’t here anymore, so I brought you to that orphanage and kept an eye on you until you were old enough. I thought if you were raised by some half-decent people, that you wouldn’t grow up in the streets like I did, fighting every day to survive.” He stood and walked to the window. “That didn’t turn out the way I wanted.”

Lance didn’t want to believe anything he was hearing, but Eric had no reason to lie now. He thought he’d hated Eric before, but now… He wanted to lunge at him and punch him until he cried blood and tears. Instead, he just balled his fists and scowled.

“What did she look like?” Lance asked, and his own voice shook. He hated that too. He hated the cane in his hand, hated the room sat in, and hated his mother for leaving him just as he’d entered the world, for being selfish enough to die on him. He hated everything. But he had to know. He needed to remember what she looked like.

“Piercing green eyes and long red hair.” Eric peeked out at the city and laughed. “She was so short. And she had freckles everywhere.” More laughter—quiet, sad laughter. “Her smile made every dark night in those alleys bright.”

Lance’s heart broke more with every detail. His memory wasn’t of his mother. In the brief moment she was alive after he was born, he hadn’t seen her. He’d seen…

Lance looked up at Eric and eyed his blond hair. Dyed, as he’d suspected from the beginning, and always greasy, as if it was never washed. “You cut and dyed your hair, didn’t you?”

Eric nodded, his cheeks stained with tears. “Right after I gave you to the orphanage.” He rubbed his nose. “Her name was Carrie. She always told me I needed to cut my hair, so I did. And I dyed it because I thought it would… I don’t know.” His eyes dried, and he steeled himself, wiping his face.

If only it’d been Eric instead of his mother. The thought lingered in the front of his mind, even as he said, “How’d you keep track of me once I ran from the orphanage?”

Eric peeked out at the city through a gap in the curtains as if trying to stall. Then he sighed. “The chief.”

Lance scoffed. “Of course it was.”

“Calm down, it’s not the way you think. Back when she was just an officer, she told me about a bad fight at the orphanage. I found out it was you and had my people follow you for a while, but you disappeared. Years later, I found you again, and I bribed the man who owned that old building to sell it to you for cheap.”

“And he didn’t say anything?”

“Bribed and threatened, Lance,” Eric said, and that devilish smile halfheartedly returned. A spark where a flame should have been. “He gave you the store, and for the next few years, I kept expanding my business, crafting my web all over Arachna with Kaela and Derek. Once I had everything stabilized, I decided I was sick of watching you work at that same store every single day, miserable.” He let the curtain close again. “I made sure you knew there was an information dealer in town. Had some of Derek’s men go there every now and then and give little hints. I figured I could bring you in, let you join our group, give you a good life, teach you everything I know, and let you take over when I was gone.” He chuckled. “Look how that worked out.”

Lance’s chest tightened, and his stomach twisted into a knot. His heart beat like a drum, and his knuckles whitened from gripping the cane too hard. That beast awoke within him. Drowsily, it moved, urging him, whispering for him to unlatch the blade from the cane. He thought the beast only came out when he was threatened, but now it stirred in response to Lance’s rage. He shoved it down, ignoring the whispers. He was furious, not stupid.

“So every part of my life,” Lance started slowly, “you messed with?” Had his nasty, bloodstained fingerprints all over it. Tears welled in Lance’s eyes.

“In a manner of speaking, yes…” Eric crossed his arms, and the tension in the room thickened. “I know you got dealt a bad hand in life, Lance. I wanted to relieve that as much as possible.”

“Screw you,” Lance said, a white-hot wave of rage crashing into him. “If you were going to help me, you shouldn’t have abandoned me. You should have stepped up as a father in the first place. Got a normal job, like my mother did.” He balled his fists so tight his nails dug into his palms. Tears threatened to spill from his face, but he locked them away, refusing to let Eric see him cry.

“Everything I’ve done since the day you were born has been for you,” Eric protested.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Lance spat. “Was forcing me to distract Rotoya in a high-speed chase for me?”

“You’re the only one she would have spared.”

“What about pissing off Landreau Corp? Was that for me? Murdering Malcolm Landreau?”

Eric braced his hands against the windowsill, a deep frown etched on his face. “I needed the money.”

Lance shook his head. The tears fought harder and harder to escape their prison. “For what?”

“For you,” Eric said, turning around. A fresh tear ran down his cheek, and he roughly wiped it away. His voice quivered. “This was supposed to be the deal, the one that would have given you the easy life. It… I was desperate, okay? When Malcolm said no, I panicked and killed him. I couldn’t let the deal go south. Just… wasn’t anticipating that secret project to be nanobots that raised people from the damned dead.”

“Oh my God,” Lance muttered. “You did kill Malcolm Landreau for me.”

Eric didn’t respond, just turned back around. “I just want to make up for what I did to you, for abandoning you and your mother. I didn’t want you to know I was your father. I wanted to make this last deal, skyrocket our profits, and give you the easy life. You would’ve had everything you wanted.”

Lance scoffed. “You mean what you want?”

“What?”

Lance rubbed his tired eyes, tears leaking from them now. He muttered a curse. His leg ached terribly, and the tears flowed harder. “I’m not like you, you bastard! I don’t give a shit about information or money. I just want a normal life, and… a family. I want a family, and I want to be happy for once in my miserable life. Christ, Eric.” Lance sat down on the bed, hanging his head in his hands. He choked down a sob as the pain tightened its jaws around his leg. “Why do you think I spent months saving up the money to pay for info on my parents? Because I wanted to be with them. To start over. I’ve lived my whole life without info or money or status, and I don’t want it.” A small sob escaped him, and he cursed again. “I am nothing like you. Just because you want those things doesn’t mean I do.”

What he wouldn’t give to begin again, to leave the city and start a new life.

“Lance…” Eric started. He took a step closer. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want your stupid apology,” Lance said, wiping tears from his face. How could Eric have the gall to think he would want all these things? “It should’ve been you… not my mom.”

Hurt crossed Eric’s face. Good.

“Just get out.”

Eric remained in his spot, standing stiff. “Lance—”

“I said get the hell out,” Lance hissed. “Before I throw you out.”

Eric closed his eyes tight then opened his mouth like he was going to say something else.

Lance stood, bracing himself on the cane. The beast stirred again, ready to lunge. Eric flinched then held a hand up.

The beast whispered for Lance to throw a punch, and he almost did, but a knock sounded at the door.

“Room service.”