Page 96 of Legacy of Chaos

“Okay, but here’s the thing.” He leaned forward, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. “You said a demon got into Heaven, right?”

“Yes,” she said slowly, unsure where he was going with this.

“Don’t you see? It doesn’t make sense.” He waved his frite around, punctuating his words. “Why would the Gaiaportal’s makers allow demons to come through it?”

He had a point. She thought about it for a second. “Maybe they overlooked the possibility,” she offered. “Maybe that’s why they shut the thing down in the first place. We don’t know.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” He frowned down at his sandwich for a moment, then shook his head and looked up. “Just…you’d think angels wouldn’t fuck up something like that.”

“Well,” she said, piling her garbage inside a container, “we have no way of getting answers, so how about we talk about whatever problem you came here to discuss?”

He gave her a reluctant nod. “It’s not nearly as interesting,” he said, tossing his napkin aside. “But we have an issue with the thermal infuser…”

Where the hell was Cyan?

Stryke paced in front of the monitor that gave him a view of the Reaper project lab, and while he’d had an eyeful of Dakarai and Parker all morning, Cyan had been absent.

She was probably sleeping and taking some well-deserved time off, but she could have at least messaged him.

Not that he was obsessing over it. He’d been too busy playing catch-up after being away from the office for a week.

A freakingweek.

Apparently, time inside the evil dome had run slower than time in the normal human realm. What had seemed like twenty-four hours had been seven days. Fortunately, his body hadn’t fast-forwarded when the time shift occurred, and he’d only had to take three injections since the last time he and Cyan had sex.

And for the first time ever, as he’d injected himself for the eight millionth time in his life, he almost wished for the real thing instead of a cold needle.

Almost. Now that things were back to normal, and he was no longer subject to the intensity of life-or-death struggles, he wasn’t sure if being with Cyan would be the same.

And now that they were back in their normal lives, would she evenwantto have sex again?

It was a question that had driven him to distraction from the moment he watched her fly away on Dire Wolf One. He’d wanted her to stay, but he’d had no plausible reason to keep her on the rig. All he could do was watch and wave as the bird lifted off.

He had to stifle a groan at the memory of how awkward he’d felt the moment the emergency was over. It was like being back at school, smarter than everyone, including the teachers, an excellent if reluctant athlete, and comfortable in an educational setting. But social situations hadnotbeen his thing.

It wasn’t that he experienced much anxiety. His main method of coping—and making things more interesting—was to hang out inside his head. Once, at a school dance, he’d spent so much time in his head that he’d solved the problem magic users experienced when they mixed elemental air and fire spells at extremely high elevations without first tempering the fire with earth. The magic community still thanked him for that one.

And Maysea Childress had nearly messed it all up by asking him to dance.

He’d said no. Awkwardly, like when he’d waved at the helicopter, knowing Cyan probably hadn’t even looked back. The difference was that he hadn’t liked Maysea since the day she spilled a soft drink in his lap in the cafeteria. Cyan? She could do anything she wanted to do in his lap.

Kalis’s voice rang out. “Sir, you have a call from Kynan Morgan. Do you want me to put him through?”

“Yes, please.”

“Have you seen the message log yet, sir?”

“Yes, and thank you. Put Kynan on.” He didn’t need to be prodded by his assistant about the damned messages.

There were alotof messages. None of which he’d addressed because he’d been busy obsessing over Cyan.

He was such an idiot.

Counting on Kynan to get him back in the mental game, Stryke pushed a button on his desk comms, and Ky’s life-sized hologram appeared on the floor in front of him, legs spread, hands locked behind his back like a general addressing his troops.

“Stryke,” Kynan said. “Glad to see everything worked out. I’d love a briefing as soon as possible. I got a summary from my team, but I want your take. Sounds like you have some insight into what’s happening in Heaven.”

Stryke nodded. “A little. The angels didn’t say much, but it looks like Heaven’s in some sort of political upheaval. It’s apparently shut down, and no one can get in or out.”

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