Page 42 of The Devil's Embrace

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure everyone in this stupid city sees that I’m up and walking before I leave again. If they’re still bothering you, you won’t have to worry about it for much longer.”

“They are, but you don’t have to bother. I won’t be staying long.”

“No?”

“Just have to wrap up this case and then I’m off this planet, same as you.”

“Glad to see neither of our past mistakes have held us down for too long.” Nero’s multi-slate chirped and he stood. “Gotta go, that’s my sister. She’s been my rock this whole time,and she’s throwing me this dumb welcome home party with all the extended family.” He met his gaze across the table. “You could come, if you want.”

“No, but thanks for the invite. I’m technically on the clock right now.” Cal shrugged like that was really the reason, even though they both knew it wasn’t.

“You sure? I met someone. Her name is Arlet, and she’ll be there. I’d like for you to meet her.” Nero grinned. “It’s petty as fuck, but I still want to rub in your face how good I’m doing. You can’t blame me, I mean, I might be over itnow, but you did break my spine.”

“Fair.” Calix couldn’t argue with that. “Unfortunately, I really am on the clock. Maybe some other time.”

“At least follow me on Inspire.” He opened the social media and moved his wrist over so their devices could sync. “That first year, lying in that bed, all I could think about was how one day I was going to walk again and show you how easily I could pick up the pieces. It was a stupid kid's wish for revenge, but it sort of stuck.”

Cal accepted the invitation.

“Great. I’ll post pics of the party later, be sure to check them out!” Nero winked and then went to leave, just before he made it to the door, though, he turned back. “Hey, Calix?”

“Yeah?”

“I do mean it, okay? No hard feelings. If I were you, I would have hit the gas too.”

Nero left before Cal could even attempt to correct him.

Or remind him that it’d been ruled an accident.

Chapter 13:

Calix wasn’t expecting the knock on his door later that night. He was busy going over the case, poring through the personal files of all the medical staff who’d attended the wedding on Vitality. There still wasn’t proof any of them were involved, especially since another member of the staff had been arrested at the shuttleport for a different murder, one that didn’t fit their serial killer’s M.O.

Figuring it was Troya, he opened the door without bothering to check through the peephole, mind still elsewhere, and froze when his eyes met bubblegum pink ones.

“Surprise.” Aodhan beamed and held up a paper bag. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything—That’s a lie. I sincerely hope I am. I figured you were holed away here working and hadn’t remembered to call room service for dinner. Am I right?”

Dinner?

“What time is it?” Cal’s eyes widened when he checked his multi-slate and saw it was close to midnight.

“Are you going to let me in, Detective?”

“Oh.” He stepped aside and motioned for him to enter, closing the door and following as Aodhan brought the paper bag to the kitchen and set it down on the small table.

“I knew if I called ahead, you’d tell me not to come, so I had to guess what you might be in the mood for,” Aodhan said as he moved about, grabbing plates from the cabinet directly over the sink and silverware from the door closest to the fridge. “Hopefully, I got it right.”

“Are you sure this isn’t your room?” Cal asked, taking a seat at the table while the doctor took out two Styrofoam containers and started arranging everything.

Aodhan chuckled. “I’ve been here a few times. Does it show? This hotel is closer to the hospital than my place.”

“Is that why you came?” Cal couldn’t help but wonder, gaze sweeping over Aodhan’s clothing. “Did you just get off work?”

He was dressed in black pants and a navy button-up, but there was no sign of his white lab coat. If he was tired from a rigorous day of saving lives one heart at a time, he didn’t show it, brightly smiling at Calix as he set the table.

“Do you want the beef or the sed?” Aodhan presented both plates, each coming with their own sides.

“Whichever.”

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