Page 120 of Legacy of Chaos

“Are you sure? I could have Masumi—”

“I’m sure!” Suddenly, Crux threw down his glasses and bounded to his feet. “Just leave me alone, okay? Why do you suddenly care about me after all these years of being gone? Back off, Stryke!Everyoneneeds to back off!”

The screen shut down.

And wasn’t that just the fucking cherry on top of Stryke’s shit sundae?

Cursing, he threw himself back against his couch cushions. His wrist comms indicated an incoming message, but he ignored it, just as he’d ignored every message for the last six hours. Instead, he dug into his pocket for his suppressant injector pen.

He had a choice to make. Summon Masumi, call Cyan, or take an injection.

Of course, there was an Option D, none of the above.

You have a fucking death wish. Eidolon’s voice echoed in his ears.

Sure, that might have been true at one point. But things had changed.Strykehad changed.

Because of Cyan.

Dammit!

He sat on his couch, holding the injector pen, his body aching as his need increased.

The suppressant is killing you.

Fucking Eidolon. That guy’s voice wouldnotget out of his head. He was like an ear worm, except instead of a catchy tune playing relentlessly over and over, you got an obnoxious lecture.

His wrist comms vibrated again for the tenth time in twenty minutes. He finally looked down. His NeuroTech implant activated, bringing up a screen of the last twelve hours of missives.

Two calls from Ear Worm Eidolon. Two calls each from his parents. Two from Kalis.

Thirty-one from Cyan. The last ten calls had been hers.

“Stryke?”

He looked up at Masumi. She stood in front of him, naked except for a pair of high heels.

“I don’t need you,” he said.

“You’re lying. I can sense it.”

His fingers tightened around the injector. “I’m fine.”

Slowly, sensually, she lowered to her knees in front of him. He went taut, waiting for her to go for the fly of his pants. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap and watched him.

“Where is Cyan?” she asked, and damn if that question didn’t form a knot of acid in his belly.

“I don’t know.”Probably with the father of her baby.

“Blade told me what happened. That you almost died.” She gestured to the injector. “Because of that.”

“Blade has a big mouth.”

“Do not be angry with him.” She jabbed a slender, gold-manicured finger at him. “You are the one holding the object that nearly killed you, prepared to do it again. Be angry with yourself.”

“Oh, believe me,” he growled. “I am. I put my trust in someone who lied to me. Betrayed me.”

She laid her palms on his thighs. “I won’t do that,” she murmured, rising to nuzzle the side of his neck. “Let me help you.”

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