Page 27 of Devil May Lie

Berga did not.

“Yes, definitely dislocated,” he said instead, tone ever the professional. “You should visit the hospital and have it reset there. You’re a born Vital, so the heal time should only be a day or two at most, and—”

Madden ran out of patience.

Swatting Berga’s hands away, he grabbed onto the back of his shoulder and pulled. A sharp rush of pain coursed through him as his humerus locked back into place in his socket, but he was Vital, and his body instantly began repairing the injury. It would take less than a day to fully heal, but he didn’t bother correcting the Butcher’s diagnosis. That wasn’t important here anyway.

Berga was looking at him now, only he was glaring and clearly pissed off enough that had he been holding something, he’d probably hit him with it.

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Zane mumbled, loud enough for them all to hear, but left it at that.

“What?” Madden played dumb. “I’ve had worse happen on the track.”

“If you were just going to foolishly treat yourself,” Berga said, “you could have saved me the trouble altogether.”

“But then we wouldn’t be together.”

“We are not.” Berga bent so that they were at eye level. “And we never will be.”

“Again,” Madden added. Grinning when that had Berga noticeably bristling. “I’m willing to bet you’re wrong though. Are you?”

Berga rolled his eyes and straightened, turning to send his question to Zane in a move that had to be intended to drive Madden crazy. “What is with all of you Retinue and your preposterous egos?”

Zane considered, then replied cooly, “Perhaps it’s a causal effect of having grown up told we’re better than everyone else?”

“Ah. That does make sense.”

“Yes,” Zane nodded. “I agree.”

Madden’s gaze pinged between the two of them, an unsettling tightness in his gut suddenly making him want to pull his blaster from its holster. “I didn’t realize the two of you were this close.”

“We’re not,” they both said at the exact same time.

Which was…suspicious.

Slowly, Madden got down from the table, taking the time to control that twisting sensation since he knew he didn’t have a right or reason for it. “I haven’t noticed before how alike the two of you are.”

“We’re not,” they repeated. Again, in tandem.

Madden clenched his fists, his left one causing a wave of pain to course through his arm and shoulder. The pain was grounding, and he eased his stance some. How unlike him, to lose his cool. Unlike many of the other Devils, Madden was known for his laid-back nature when he wasn’t at an official function or acting as Royal Madden Odell. Temper tantrums and fits of jealousy were better left to Kelevra.

And yet…

“How much time do you two spend together, exactly?” They were both seniors and medical majors at Vitality. They must have spent at least a good amount of their schooling in the same classes. Did they eat lunch together?

Why did Madden care?

Damn it.

This all-consuming curiosity was going to be the end of him, and even knowing that, he couldn’t seem to get a handle on it.

Zane was the first to note the odd edge to his voice, setting down the file he’d been viewing to lift a brow Madden’s way. He didn’t say anything, but his look was enough to get his point across.

The two of them had known one another practically their whole lives—but Berga could say the same. Even if the Butcher hadn’t ever been all that close to either of them. As far as Madden knew, in any case.

What if they were closer than he’d thought?

Berga opened his mouth, no doubt to chide him, but before he could get a word out another cadet rushed into the room, slightly out of breath.

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