Damian's Assassin

"Do I really want that next to my head?" Dusty asked with a frown. "It's bad enough that it might fry my brain."

"Thank the gods we're immortal." Toni grinned, took his phone, and swapped SIM cards with the new one. Dusty clipped the earpiece to his ear.

"You gave Bianca a phone?" he asked.

"No."

"Someone did."

"Not one of our issues," Toni said. "I've repaired the computers in your office, too. Boss, you had so much malware I don't know how you got anything done."

"Yeah, e-shit isn't my forte," Dusty admitted. "Glad you're here. Make sure Bianca's phone is tagged as well." He tested his new phone by sending Damian and Jule a text.

911. He didn't know if they'd reappear before his weekend went to shit, but he hoped they did.

"Now for the bad news," Toni said. "This weekend looks worse than we thought. Jenn's guys got something. They're at the safe house off Biscayne."

"Have her call me when she's done talking to them. Send Jonny to see Sofi sometime this morning," Dusty directed. "Darian in his room?"

"He's in the gym."

"Call if you need anything." Dusty strode to the gym, surprised to see the Grey God up so early. His wards rarely rose before mid-morning. Darian was at a row machine, covered in sweat. His long, lean muscles bulged with the workout.

"Darian!"

The Grey God rose, a guilty look crossing his features. Dusty eyed him, waiting. Darian swiped his towel from another machine and approached.

"I'm sorry. I know you said no," Darian grated.

"Then why'd you do it?" Dusty asked.

"I didn't want the cat to stay all alone at your condo. It's not fair. She's in my room. I won't let her out, so she won't bother you."

Dusty almost rolled his eyes. He was expecting worse than a cat in Darian's room. It was the least of Darian's many offenses.

"We'll deal with that later," he said. "Go get ready. I want you to start learning what it means to be in charge of something."

"Really? Oh my God!" Darian darted towards the house. Dusty sighed, unable to reconcile the Grey God, the man who had been Darian, and the man running gleefully into the house as being one and the same. He hoped, no he prayed, Darian regained himself someday soon.

His gaze strayed towards the barracks, where he'd left Bianca. Regret sat in his stomach. He'd done the right thing. Rather, he'd done the decent thing and spared her further heartache. Yet he couldn't shake the memory of her body against his, the way she'd looked at him last night. No woman had gotten through his guard ever.