Born of Fire

“You look like hell, buddy.”


Syn saluted him with the bottle. “Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

One corner of Nykyrian’s lips quirked up into the closest thing to a smile he’d ever seen from his friend.

Syn took another drink. “What are you doing here? Figured you’d be with your wife living the happily-ever-after bullshit that makes me want to puke.”

“You sounded like total shit when I called, so I wanted to see you for myself. I would say I was worried about you, but you might think I’ve gone soft and hell will freeze before that happens . . . By the way, if my wife goes into labor while I’m here and not at home with her, I will kill you where you lay.”

Syn made an obscene gesture at Nykyrian.

“How’s he doing?”

Syn tilted his head back to see Kasen in the open doorway. Curling his lip, he snarled at her. “In case you haven’t heard, I’m not exactly on good terms with your family right now. So why don’t you take your ass out of here before I find enough energy to beat it.”

“Ooo,” she cooed, crinkling her nose as if he’d just given her some sexual pleasure as she neared his couch, “you promise?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “I should have known that’s all you wanted. Well, you’re too late. Your sister effectively killed any sex drive I might have for a long time to come. Personally, I’d rather masturbate.”

“That’s harsh and crude, you pig.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. You know, me and you were friends. And friends are something I don’t have a lot of.” She moved to stand by his side. “I really was worried about you, Syn. You haven’t been exactly seen by anyone since you got out.”

Syn took a deep breath. He didn’t mean to be such a self-absorbed asshole. It was just that the pain was too raw to deal with right now.

Even so, he hadn’t meant to lash out at them.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take my anger for your brother and sister out on you.”

“It’s all right. I’m used to it. I always catch hell because of one of them. Why do you think I’m so surly?”

“Ah, so that’s the reason.”

She took a seat by his feet and eyed the half-empty bottle in his hand, then shifted her gaze to the other three empty bottles on the floor. “Are you drunk?”

“Comfortably Inebriated,” he said with a dark laugh, thinking of Shahara and her continuous need to know what C.I. stood for.

Nykyrian scoffed. “Well, if you get any more comfortable, buddy, I’ll have to call in a med-tech.”

Kasen lifted one of the bottles and read the label. “This stuff can kill you.”

“Yeah, but obviously not quick enough.” He went to take another swig.

Nykyrian jerked it out of his hand.

“Hey!”

He pulled it away from his grasping hand. “Don’t even make that noise at me.”

Syn curled his lip. “You and Vik. You’re both traitors. You might as well move in with Shahara, too.” Vik had gone to live with her and refused to come back until Syn “got over himself.” Little wormy betraying mecha bastard.

Kasen shook her head. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you drink from a bottle.”

Nykyrian snorted. “Lucky you. I’ve seen him tap a keg and funnel it.”

“Look,” Syn said between clenched teeth, “I don’t really want to chitchat with you two right now. You’ve seen me, you know I’m alive, now why don’t you both just go on home.”

Kasen slapped at his feet. “You sound just like Shahara.”

His heart stopped at the mention of her name. “So how is old Shahara, anyway? Living high off her million credits she got for having me tortured?”

“No,” she said quietly. “She won’t touch any of it.”

He lifted his brow in surprise.

“She even tried to return it, but the overseer told her not to. She said Shahara had earned it.”

Oh, yeah, she had definitely earned it by screwing him over. Her acting abilities would be worth a thousand times that in the studios. “I’ll bet she did.”

Kasen clenched her teeth. “Look, I love you like a brother, Syn, and I love Shahara. I can’t just stand around and watch the two of you die because you’re too damned proud to apologize to each other. She’s sorry for what she did. She just mopes around that decrepit hole she calls home, so depressed she hardly moves.”

“Do you think I care?”

“I know you do. Look at you.” She gestured at him lying on the couch. “You have your freedom and you’ve cleared your name. Instead of being happy and going about your life, you’re sitting here half-dead. Shahara has a million credits and she hasn’t even gone shopping for a new pair of shoes. What does that tell you?”

“We’re both idiots.”

She made a sound of supreme disgust. “And then there’s Caillen, who sits around looking like he’s lost his best friend, because he has lost his best friend.”