Page 36 of Legacy of Chaos

“It’s no problem.” She headed for the kitchen, her feet sinking into the plush ivory rug. How did he keep it so clean? “I’ll just be a moment.”

“I said, go back to the party.”

Gods, he sounded so much like her ex sometimes. Defensive, angry, broody. There was a reason she’d dumped the technomancer from DART’s Paris office, and she’d learned her lesson. She’d put up with Jeth’s shit because she’d been stupid enough to love him.

But she didn’t love Stryke. So, fuck him.

She wheeled back around. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

She expected him to be angry and fly off the handle like Jeth had if she pressed an issue instead of backing down or walking away. So, her jaw nearly fell open when he chuckled darkly.

“What’s wrong with me? I’m a closed-off, self-absorbed asshole who pushes everyone away.”

That was unexpectedly candid. “So, you don’t deny that you’re a jerk?”

He shrugged. “It’s no secret, Cyan. People tell me. I hear it from Masumi all the time.”

Masumi? She’d heard Blade and Mace mention the name before. She’d assumed Masumi was a shared girlfriend or something. You never knew when it came to incubi.

“Is she your counselor? Shrink?”

“No.” He paused. Shrugged again. “Maybe. Sometimes.”

Well, that cleared things up. “So, if you know you’re a jerk, why don’t you just, you know, stop being one?”

He sat up, winced, and flopped back again. “You’re confusing knowing I’m a jerk with caring that I’m a jerk.”

She stared, unable to believe what she was hearing. “How can you be as smart as you are and not understand that being nice to people gets you more?”

“Really?” he asked, returning her stare. “And what more do I need? I have more money than God, and I’m not sure it’s possible to acquire more power than I already have.”

His honesty both impressed and infuriated her. “So, you feel justified mistreating people just because you don’t need anything?”

“How do I mistreat anyone? My employees are happy. They might not like me, but they respect me. They’re paid well and get better benefits than anyone in the human world.”

“Okay, maybemistreatwas the wrong word. How about rude? Cold? Dismissive?”

“It works for me, Cyan. Why does everyone feel the need to be liked? I don’t care. Does that make me a sociopath? I’ve been called one, but I think that label fits Rade better.” He paused. “Can demons really be called sociopaths? If sociopathy is a feature of our kind and not a disorder?” He tapped his comms. A holoscreen popped up, and his fingers flew over the controls.

“What are you doing?”

“Notes,” he said absently. “I’m taking notes.”

“Right. Of course, you are.” Gods, he was weird. And she had a pretty high tolerance for eccentricity. He ignored her, so engrossed in what he was doing that she no longer existed to him. That champagne sounded good again. “Well, if everything’s okay, I’m just going to…”

She started to turn away, but a crash spun her back around in time to see Stryke hit the floor. Face pale, teeth clenched in agony, he writhed on the rug, his arms wrapped around his abdomen.

“Stryke!” She scrambled over and kneeled next to him. “What is it?”

His hand clamped down on her arm, his damp palm burning her skin. “Need,” he gasped. “Came on…too…fast.”

Need? What did he need? Her head felt fuzzy as tingling heat radiated out from where he touched her. Streaks of pleasure seemed to race from their point of contact through her nervous system. Her muscles loosened, and her breasts tightened. Lower, her sex pulsed, and her panties grew damp. What the ever-loving hell was going on?

Arousal pumped through her, and the same thing must have been happening to Stryke because his gaze had gone liquid gold, drawing her into its swirling, hypnotic depths.

“What…what is happening?” she whispered as she lowered her face to his, her body stretching against his hard form.

“Need…” He arched against her, driving the hard bulge between his legs into her belly. “Injection.” He wrenched away from her. “Bedroom…bathroom. Counter. Hurry.”

---