energy behind in order to draw his father to him. Adrian found the ideal vantage point within the concealing walls of an abandoned gas station. There, he allowed his dark energy to contaminate the breeze and infect the humans prowling the streets.
It didn’t take long for the gang members to succumb to Adrian’s dark influence, and a violent turf war broke out. Shots were fired, nasty-looking blades sliced the air and angry screams shattered any illusion of peace.
Satisfied, Adrian retreated into the gas station to await Marcus’s arrival. The Watcher didn’t disappoint. He came within the hour, accompanied by a gorgeous redhead, and took in the scene with an expression of aloof curiosity.
“Who do you think caused this?” the redhead asked. “The Kleptopsychs or the Rogues?”
Marcus’s features hardened to stone, a dead giveaway that the man had sensed Adrian’s presence. “Neither,” he lied. “My guess is that this is just your everyday, run-of-the-mill gang fight.”
The redhead didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? I could’ve sworn I felt a trace of dark energy in the air.”
In the distance, sirens wailed, fast approaching. “The cops are coming,” Marcus said to his partner. “You should head back.”
“What about you?”
The Watcher’s glance briefly flitted to the gas station within which Adrian hid. “I’ll be right behind you. There’s something I need to check out first.”
The redhead frowned. “I can come with you, back you up—”
“That’s not necessary. Cal’s waiting for an update. Might as well hurry and give it to him. Lord knows you’re much faster than I am.”
She hesitated, sighed. “Fine. Have it your way.” Before Adrian could blink, the woman vanished into thin air.
“You can come out now.” Marcus’s words cleaved the day with the sharpness of a freshly polished blade.
Adrian tamped down the impulse to flee—an impulse ingrained in him after nearly two lifetimes of being on the run—and stepped from the shadows to bathe in a pool of gray, tremulous light.
“It wasn’t very smart of you to stick around.” Marcus rounded on him as the sirens drew closer. “I thought you were better than this.”
“I needed to speak to you. This was the best I could come up with.”
Marcus unsheathed his dagger. The silver blade caught the sunlight, glinting with the lethal sheen of angel’s blood. “And what makes you think I won’t strike you down where you stand?”
“It’s a risk I had to take.”
Interest flashed in the Watcher’s eyes. “Rogues don’t take risks. All they care about is feeding their dark urges and safeguarding their own damn hides.”
Adrian swallowed his inhibitions and approached the man who’d fathered him—a Hybrid who’d had the misfortune of mating with Kyros’s sister and who just happened to be Adrian’s greatest enemy. After sweet Uncle Kyros, of course. “I’m not your typical Rogue.”
Marcus’s patience was wearing thin. “If you have something to say, go ahead and say it before I’m tempted to use this.” He indicated his dagger with unmasked menace.
“I need a favor, and as luck would have it, you’re the only one I can turn to.”
Surprise had Marcus lowering his weapon. “And what makes you think I’d help a Rogue?”
“Because everything you know about me is based on false assumptions, and I’m about to set you straight.”
His father laughed. “Fine, I’ll humor you. How are you planning on setting me straight ?”
“Not here. The cops are only a couple of blocks away.” Guiding Marcus down a dark alley, Adrian led him to a series of abandoned buildings, within which they could speak in peace. Once safely removed from the scene of the crime, Adrian braced himself for the other man’s reaction to what he was about to tell him.
Marcus had spent nearly two centuries believing Adrian’s soul was dead, his conscience nonexistent. It was the only way the man could justify hunting his