Page 109 of Legacy of Chaos

But no, the only male on her mind was Stryke, who did something special every time they met. Sometimes, he gave her a gift like gold-plated chocolates from Paris or a signedcopy of one of her favorite books about the role of technology in the future. Other times, he made dinner—a Suzanne recipe that guaranteed anyone could make it delicious—or had food brought in. Once they met in his basement lab and conducted an experiment to test the effects of hisSea Stormfog sample on cell specimens from demons of varying moral alignment.

Cells from evil beings thrived in the fog. Specimens from less evil beings fared far worse. His tiny sample of an angel feather shriveled.

He’d definitely seduced her with science.

But what she loved most was that, for the last week, all their meetings had been about the Moon project. And sex. But after the sex, he’d asked her opinion on everything from where to build the facility to where he should go to headhunt the best employees.

But…as much as she loved working with him on such a monumental project, she was also concerned. His energy seemed to be growing frantic, and she suspected he wasn’t sleeping much. He appeared more and more distracted.

Not that she wasn’t distracted too. Her team had hit a snag on the Reaper project, and it was taking a ridiculous amount of time to solve the issue. She’d become increasingly exhausted, so much so that she’d gone home early a couple of times so she could nap. Even her appetite became a victim of her stress and exhaustion. Yesterday, Stryke noticed and commented on it after she’d shoved her plate of Chinese food aside during dinner.

She was starving at the moment, though, so maybe she could talk him into having pizza delivered when she got to his office. There was a new, werewolf-family-run Italian joint in New York she wanted to try, and they even delivered via Harrowgate. She’d seen one of the delivery people pop out of the company gate just outside the courtyard.

She smiled and nodded to everyone as she traversed the long, sterile hallways to Stryke’s offices. Folks at StryTech had been guarded around her at first, but they’d largely come around. She’d even been invited to a get-together at the Sydney home of one of the scientists from the NeuroLink division.

“Coming through!” someone yelled from behind her.

Startled, she leaped up against the wall as paramedics ran past, their black uniforms and duffle bags identifying them as Underworld General personnel. But where were they going? Surely, not—

They were headed toward Stryke’s offices.

Sudden fear made her gut plummet. Panicked, she ran to catch up, her heels clacking, her pulse pounding. Ahead, Kalis waited at the elevator, her face pale and lips pressed into a thin, grim line.

“Kalis!” Cyan stopped in front of Stryke’s assistant as the medics stepped into the lift. “What’s going on?”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Kalis said, taking Cyan’s elbow and guiding her to the elevator. “Something’s wrong with Stryke. He was talking to Taran and collapsed. If Taran hadn’t alerted me…” She trailed off, her voice quivering as the door slid closed.

One of the medics, a Seminus demon, exchanged worried glances with his ginger-haired partner.

“Are you related to Stryke?” Cyan asked.

“Distantly.” The guy gestured to a spiral symbol woven into hisdermoirenear his elbow. “But his dad is my boss, and his uncle is the Big Boss.”

“We don’t want to fuck up this call, that’s for sure,” the other one growled as the doors slid open.

Stryke. She gasped in horror at the sight of him lying near his desk, his chest heaving, body twisted in agony. She didn’t remember running across the endless expanse of flooring, didn’t register the pain of hitting the floor next to him with a crack ofkneecaps. He moaned, but she didn’t think he was aware of her presence.

The ginger Seminus medic crouched beside her and gripped Stryke by the shoulder. The black lines of hisdermoirelit up as his healing energy surged through his arm. A moment later, he looked up at his partner. “We need to get him to UG. Now.”

“Come on,” she said, shoving to her feet. “I can operate his private Harrowgate.”

The two Sems hauled Stryke into the gate, and the moment the door closed, she pressed the lit symbol representing the famous demon-run hospital. Almost instantly, they emerged in Underworld General’s Emergency Department.

Cyan had only been here once, decades ago as a child, when she broke her wrist during an ice skating lesson. She remembered the chaos, the mix of demons and humanoids, and the strange writing on the walls.

What she hadn’t remembered were the gutters that ran with blood or the strange medical devices hanging on the walls and from the ceilings. The place was truly creepy.

The medics barked out a bunch of medical terms Cyan knew but wasn’t ready to think about as a tusk-faced female in scrubs directed them to an empty room.

Terrified and overwhelmed, Cyan held Stryke’s hand as the medics laid him on the bed. Instantly, there was a swarm of people and activity and medical jargon, but she tuned it all out. She couldn’t take her eyes off Stryke’s face, so handsome, but so shadowed and sunken.

“Stryke,” she whispered. “Please. Talk to me.”

He didn’t open his eyes. Didn’t even moan.

Desperate, she swung around to the medical staff. To anyone who would listen. “What’s wrong? Help him!”

Eidolon broke through the crowd, and a sense of relief helped her breathe. If anyone could help Stryke, it was him.

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