When at last it finally lay still, Quade tapped his earpiece. “One to extract, complete with bug.”
“Roger. Team is on the way.” He paused. “Quade, about Perkins.”
Fuck. “Go ahead.”
“Doc knew nothing about this Tsuchigumo thing. He didn’t even find it in the database. Yer boy? He told Doc what to look for. They’re working on Perkins, but it’s not looking so good. Still, what Ten told them gave him a chance.”
That’s my boy. Though it still left Quade with more questions than he had answers. Not that he cared right now. Perkins would be okay. He had to be.
And now there was a demon to interrogate.
Quade moved slowly, walking around the table, keeping up a constant stream of chatter. He had no idea if the thing could understand him, but it would damn well figure it out by Quade’s tone.
“Do you know what a lycan is? We’re apex predators, the top of the food chain. We don’t care who we have to gut, as long as blood is involved.” Quade ran his finger along the torn flesh of the demon’s lip, then licked it off. It was bitter and acrid, and he wanted to spit, but this… thing needed to see that Quade was dangerous. Instead, he stood there, glaring at the monster. “Tasty. I wouldn’t mind hacking off a few hunks of your flesh to have for a sandwich.”
Big black eyes shimmered in the light. If Quade didn’t know it was a demon, he would swear it was crying.
Slamming a hand down on the table caused it to jump and shrink back. “Tell me! Why are you here? Who sent you?”
“Leave him alone! Can’t you see he’s scared?”
Quade whirled around to find Ten stomping toward him. “Ten, what the hell are you doing here?”
Ten rolled his eyes as he tapped his temple. “Psychic, remember? Our friend here is crying out in pain. Not like I can ignore it.”
The thought that he was causing his son pain gnawed at Quade’s stomach.
Ten smiled and stepped forward. “Hey, I’m Tennyson. It’s nice to meet you.”
The demon cocked its head, as if curious about what kind of being Ten was.
Holding out a hand, Ten moved nearer. Quade reached out to stop him, but Ten sidestepped him. “It’s okay, Dad. He won’t hurt me.” He took the chair across from the demon. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”
The demon whimpered and tilted his head in Ten’s direction.
Ten reached out and put his fingers on the demon’s head. “That’s what I thought.” He stroked the rough, scaly skin, and Quade swore there was a slight glow around them. When Ten sat back, Quade’s fingers tightened. He wasn’t pleased at having Ten so near the damn thing that put Perkins in the hospital.
“So your name is A’kosh. It’s good to meet you.”
The demon again tilted his head toward Ten.
“What’s he doing?”
Ten shrugged. “I took away some of his pain. He’s thanking me.”
“That thing is a killer, Ten.”
Shaking his head, Ten reached out again. “No, he’s not. Not everything in the world is black and white, Dad. There are so many shades of gray in there, you wouldn’t believe it. A’kosh is a drone. His life is all about service. He’s not a demon or a warrior, and only fights to protect his people.”
“Seems to me he wasn’t caring about that when he poisoned Perkins.”
“Are you sure?” Ten patted A’kosh on the head. The demon leaned into the touch, then chirped and sat back, hands folded. “Or were you so worked up, you thought he was a threat?”
This was getting weirder and weirder. When Quade gripped Ten’s arm, A’kosh hissed, his torn lip spread wide, showing rows of sharp mandibles.
“He doesn’t like you touching me.” Ten stroked A’kosh’s hand… talon… whatever. “It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt me, I promise. He’s a good man, and I think he can help you.”
“Help him? Why the hell would I help a thing that nearly killed one of our own?”
Ten’s lips tightened into a thin white line. “Can I see you, please? Out in the hall.”
Without waiting for Quade to answer, Ten got up and stormed out the door and into the hallway. Shooting a glare at the demon—A’kosh—Quade followed his kid. He found him leaning against the wall, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans.
“Why do you do that?”
Quade squinted at him. “Do what?”
“You don’t listen. I told you he wouldn’t hurt me.”
“I don’t give a damn what you told me!” Quade sucked in a deep breath. “You’re my son, and if you want to get mad at me because I care, then you’ll be mad for the rest of your life.”
“Dad, look—”
“No, you look. That… thing nearly killed a good man. And you think because you say so, I’m going to forget that fact?”
Ten pushed off the wall and sneered. “No, I expect that you’re going to listen and find out the why before you freak out. Or don’t you care?”
“Yes, goddamn it, I care. More than I ever thought possible.”
“That’s good to hear.” Ten smiled.
“Listen, you have to tell me. How do you know things? What makes you so sure that demon isn’t going to hurt someone?”
Ten sighed. “Again, not a demon. I can’t explain it to you. I can try to show you, if you’re willing.”
Squatting down, Quade found himself at eye level with his son. Those silver orbs of his gleamed in the overhead lights. “Show me.”
Ten reached out and put both hands on the sides of Quade’s head. He drew in a deep breath, and then a moment later, images flashed through Quade’s mind. At first it was a trickle. A few here and there, then dozens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, millions, billions, all in a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and smells.
“What’s this?” Quade asked, his stomach flipping.
“People’s thoughts. I can see them all. Hear them as clearly as I do my own. There’s very few things that aren’t open to me if I go looking for it.”
It was nuts. How could a twelve-year-old boy process this much information? “How do you handle it all?” Just the things he was seeing threatened to overwhelm Quade. He knew if it wasn’t for Ten, he’d be driven insane by the overload.
“Dunno. Just do.”
The images began to recede, until Ten was the only thing Quade saw.
“How strong are you?” It was a stupid question. Quade had to wonder if Ten was even aware of his limits.
Ten giggled, full of mirth and happiness. “I’m not even sure. I can move objects, read thoughts, and probably a bunch of things I never even tried. But I don’t care about any of that. The only thing that matters is you and Poppa.”
Quade reached out and pulled Ten into a hug. “We love you too.”
“Then please, listen to me. A’kosh isn’t what you think he is. Think of his race as ants. You’ve got a leader who directs them all. Some of them hunt for food, and anything that’s edible fits that category. Some, like A’kosh, are workers. They’re sort of like waiters in a restaurant. They only live to serve. That’s what A’kosh is. His race isn’t necessarily violent, and they only do what they have to in order to survive.”