“He speaks.” Margo smiled at him compassionately. “We’ve been worried.”
“Why? I just wanted some alone time.”
Thomas pointed at him. “Hah. That’s how we know something is off.” He gestured around the room. “Notice anything else wrong with this picture? Saint, unplugged. No computer, no phone, no game system. And you’ve been like this for what? Two months? You can’t fool us, buddy. This is a full scale emergency.”
Mac was staring at him intently. Damn vampire empathy.
“Go away.”
“She misses you.” Julie’s soft voice had everyone turning in her direction, including Saint. “She’s better now. Stronger. The physical therapist has been shocked with how much stronger…but she misses you.”
It must be the kitsune. Before she’d left he’d felt it, felt the change in her power. Felt her embrace that part of herself. Maybe he even helped it a little. If it took away some of her pain, gave her some peace, he was glad.
Thinking of her made him ache. He didn’t want to ache. He just wanted to be alone. “She doesn’t miss a demon. She misses a character in a game. She misses Sinner.”
“Bullshit.”
The women gasped at Mac in surprise. Saint raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“It was you, Saint. You she was with. You she misses. And I’m sick of you wallowing. You don’t wallow.”
“Why? Cause that’s your job?”
Mac crossed his arms. “Yes, okay? I wallow, Thomas whines and you manipulate. That’s how this dysfunctional family works.”
“I don’t whine,” Thomas whined.
Margo chuckled and received a glare for her effort.
Mac stepped closer to the edge of the bed. “Why are you giving up? Because she’s mad? Hell, I’ve been mad at you for a hundred years, and you’ve yet to leave me alone. Don’t you love her enough to drive her crazy? Enough to try?”
“It’s because he’s afraid he’ll hurt her, demon that he is. Afraid he’ll either fuck her to death or lash out at her in anger.”
Everyone sent the newcomer a surprised look, but Julie just smiled. “Manx, you’re here.”
“How did he get in?”
“Did you leave the door unlocked?”
“Are you seriously asking me that? I have the best security sys—”
“Guys,” Liam’s loud growl silenced Mac and Thomas. “We told him to come. He contacted us about a month ago.”
“I did. When Demon Saint started to crash.”
Margo’s tone was distressed. “The game is crashing?”
Saint grimaced and studied Manx. He’d never seen the southern technofile in person before. Not a blue tattoo in sight, but he could still see his friend inside the normal packaging. Long brown, braided hair, and wire-framed glasses hiding deeply blue, troubled eyes.
The game. Saint hadn’t considered that. Without him to guide it, without his interface, it would eventually start to degrade.
Manx glanced at Saint apologetically. “I wasn’t aiming to step on your toes or anything, but I had to do something. Whole levels were disappearing so I, well, added a bit of myself until you got back on your feet.” He gestured to the iPhone in his hand. “I had no idea it took so much energy.”
Of course not. He wasn’t a demon. “You can have it, if you want.”
A muscle twitched in Manx’s jaw. “Generous of you. Since you tossed her away along with your responsibilities, can I have Ume too?”
He had Manx up against the wall, his forearm pressing on his throat, before anyone could move. “Don’t you know I could kill you?”