Page 17 of Legacy of Chaos

He snarled at that last thought. But it was true. The intervals between injections were growing shorter and shorter, and he needed to reset his body with the real thing.

Soon, you won’t need the injections at all because you’ll be dead.

The thought didn’t upset him as much as it probably should.

Cursing, he forced himself to trudge up the stairs to the kitchen, where the automatic coffee pot had brewed his favorite blend. He poured a cup, grabbed Masumi’s vase, and headed to the shower.

The shower and sex were both cold and fast, and he felt better afterward, but still dirty.

He wished he wasn’t aware of how messed up that was. He also wished there was some sort of cure, some kind of magical mathematical equation that would help unlink his trauma from his sex drive.

Therewasone thing he could try. His brother Rade could take a little walk inside his head and snip things while healing others. His uncle Wraith could do that too. But if there was one thing Stryke hated more than fucking someone, it was someone fucking with his brain.

He got to the office an hour late, and Kalis was waiting for him, her expression a mask of annoyance. The tiny, black horns, usually hidden in her auburn hair, popped out a couple of inches.

“There you are.” She gestured to his desk, where a steaming cup of coffee waited for him. “As usual, the messages on your pad are arranged in both order of urgency and by timestamp. And Ms. Cyanide is waiting to see you.”

He looked up sharply. “Cyanide? From DART?”

“Yes. Kynan sent her per your agreement.”

Interesting. DART’s senior technomancer was known throughout the cybersecurity community. A rare Cyberis demon, she was one of the most powerful Mancers in the world and, unlike so many of her kind, didn’t use her abilities for evil.

That Stryke knew of, anyway.

Technically, Cyberis demons were banned from the human realm because of the potential of them abusing their powers. Their ability to hack, operate, and reprogram electronic devices with their minds meant they could shut down vehicles in motion. They could drop planes from the sky. Military experts feared they could even control nuclear weapons. They were also capable of getting past DNA scanners undetected by simply deleting their DNA from the software as they walked by, making them even more dangerous.

Stryke employed a Cyberis technomancer himself, but he had also taken precautions against their particular magic. He trusted his people, but he wasn’t an idiot. Most demons were scum.

He wondered how Kynan was getting away with Cyanide’s employment. Especially now, when the world was calling for more regulations, scrutiny, and oversight into companies and governments that employed underworlders.

He reached for the StryTech-branded coffee mug. “Send her in.”

Kalis bowed shallowly and dematerialized.

A few moments later, the office elevator doors opened. A drop-dead gorgeous, silvery-white-haired female stepped out, her long, slender legs encased in dark, wide-leg pants that swung around a pair of black heels. The neckline of her gunmetal top dipped low enough to reveal a hint of cleavage and a chunky silver necklace with a deep amethyst pendant a shade or two lighter than her eyes.

She was stunning. Her race was known for its elfin good looks and gemstone eyes, but damn. She was something special.

He waited to acknowledge her until she’d crossed his office floor, her shoes making the tiles beneath them glow red with every step.

Red for demons, white for angels, blue for vampires, yellow for humans.

“Hello, Cyanide.”

Her already cold eyes chilled even more. She wasn’t happy to be here, was she?

“It’s Cyan.” One eyebrow arched as she glanced at the floor. “I see one of my brethren designed a species-detection floor system. Clever.” Lifting her head, she swept her short, messy hair out of her face. “But too limited in scope. It only identifies demons, angels, humans, and vampires. You need it to identify half-breeds, shifters, and weres too.”

She was right, but the technomancer who’d designed the system couldn’t get what Cyan suggested to work. “If you think you can do better, be my guest.”

“I’m not here to fix your employee’s incompetence.”

Incompetence?

She wandered around as if she owned the place, checking out the view, the lab equipment, the computers. Looking everywhere but at him. Finally, she stopped in front of one of his whiteboards.

“Oh, my gods.” She moved closer to the board. “Are these really calculations for an invisible umbrella?”

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