He stares. He probably knows I’m about to break apart. “What did you do when you got my call earlier, Trey? You’re glued to that thing. I know you saw it.”
I huff, not wanting to answer that.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. See you around, Treyu.”
No. He probably won’t. I don’t do the “let’s be friends” thing. Well except for with Blaine, but that’s different. “Goodbye, Timothy,” I say as he’s already walking away.
Once he’s gone, Zhang steps forward. What now?
“Tough luck, Orion.” He pats me on the head. “I’m breaking up with you too.”
“Finally. Stay the hell away from me, Zhang.”
He faces me, freezing in place. “You tried to stab me in the heart.”
“Duh. That’s an efficient way to kill a star.” Sticking a star in the heart with a starblade, or some other piece of magical something or other, is one of the largest insults. It’s what you do to your worst enemies.
All I have are “for show” methods. As if I’d even get close to his heart. He’s a real star and therefore much stronger than whatever I am, but a blade through the heart is the ultimate fuck you, and I was angry enough that I wanted my “fuck you” to get through his stubborn skull.
His jaw ticks the smallest amount, but I catch it. I know that jaw far better than I’d like to.
“Aww, did I break your heart, Centaurus?”
“I thought we just … never mind. Enjoy the rest of your shitshow.” He climbs onto his bike.
“Good riddance!” I shout after him as he starts the engine and turns onto the dark highway without another glance at me. At least one blessed thing came of this night.
My phone goes off, interrupting my trek back into the bar to find something to celebrate with, and this time it’s a call I can’t ignore. I wince and accept the call. “Sir?”
There’s a lot of yelling and swearing and the ominous “get your fucking ass home, Treyu”.
“Be right there, Uncle Ryan.”
Fuck me. But I do get my ass home because there are four people I won’t argue with, and Uncle Ryan is one of them.
* * *
Guardian Central is a massive old house on an acreage. It houses hundreds of stars at any one time. They come and go for various assignments, except for the few—like me—who remain permanently. It belongs to the Orion family, but Centauruses are free to come and go as they please, much to our disdain. They don’t bother with us much, but when they do it’s to micromanage us. Ortryto micromanage us, more like. We have some authority over security that they do not, but ultimately, guardians are beholden to the crown.
We don’t have to admit the Guild, but it’s usually a better idea to play nice. When we feel like it. My family is my family. We like things done our way and the term “hot-headed Orion” isn’t for nothing.
The men playing poker in the main room just off from the entryway give me curious looks, especially Blaine. I’m covered in brown demon blood. The stench of sewer clings to me. Fun times.
Blaine makes like he’s about to inquire into my dumpster fire life. “Don’t want to talk about it,” I say. He focuses on his cards.
I’d cut off my left arm for a shower just now, but I head to Uncle Ryan’s office instead, so he can chew me out. He’s already heard from the Guild, though I don’t know how. Guess I’m gonna find out.
“Sit there,” he says.
This place is a fortress, so there are no windows in his office, just wall to wall with screens displaying various areas of the compound. The rest of his office is filled with the practical stuff; weapons, snack cupboard, discipline implements.
I sit my goo-covered ass in his nice brown leather chair. He’ll probably make me clean the reeking glop away, but if I’d just been allowed a shower it could have been avoided. Just sayin’. “I don’t get why?—”
“No,” he cuts me off. “I’m going to talk and you’re going to answer my questions, understood?”
We are and always will be a military family. “Yes, sir.”
“The Guild has been watching you because they don’t like how you handled the last three assignments you were given. I don’t like them either because you almost died.”
