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He should have known he’d be held prisoner—he’d helped draw up the SOPs for any military member who had been captured and held by demons.

The questions were endless, repetitive and, sometimes, ludicrous. Are you sure you didn’t give up any sensitive information? Yes. Did any demon possess you? No. Were you impregnated? Jesus, he hoped not. Did you grow attached to any demon? No.

As long as Limos didn’t count, damn her.

When the interrogators moved past his time in Sheoul and started on his time with Limos, Arik became a lot more selective in what he told them. No way in hell was he going to share how he’d been in a constant state of lust around her, or how he’d been so afraid to eat food that he’d only eaten when he thought she was bringing him dog food. Or how he still refused to say her name.

Or how she’d fucked with his memory.

He also left out the part where Pestilence drank him like a milkshake, forced Arik to drink him in return, and gave him the curious side-effect of being able to sense spies and kill them with a touch.

The R-XR would have him splayed open on a dissection table for that one.

The upside to all the questioning and tests was that it kept his mind off what he’d done to Runa. Shade’s words kept clanging in his head, a brutal thump against the inside of his skull that he deserved. He’d sworn to protect Runa. He’d sworn to never become the monster their father had been. And what had he done? Become the monster who used to haunt her dreams until Shade took them all away. Now Arik wondered if he’d reversed all Shade’s progress.

It didn’t matter that he’d attacked Runa while he was out of his mind. Their father had often delivered his most brutal beatings while out of his ever-loving mind, three sheets to the wind. It wasn’t an excuse, and Arik wasn’t going to make excuses for himself, either.

Man, he needed a vacation, but that particular line of thinking always took him to a tropical beach that looked suspiciously like Hawaii, complete with a certain raven-haired Horseman. Not that he was taking a trip anytime soon; he’d been released from the R-XR medical facility and put into one of the Fort McNair dorms, and though he was free to come and go within the facilities, he still wasn’t cleared to leave the base.

Which sucked. He was a soldier, and the human race was at war. He needed to do something. Needed to fight for his team, which was Team Human, not Team Horsemen. Sure, they were on the same side, but definitely not on the same team.

Except ze=Surit had felt great to fight next to Limos against the khnives, hadn’t it. She’d had his back, and their moves had been in sync in a way he hadn’t experienced with anyone but Decker.

He caught himself rubbing his chest, as if trying to soothe his aching heart, and what the hell? Had demon Alcatraz turned him into a lovesick puppy? Annoying.

A pounding on his dorm door jolted him out of his pathetic musings, and then Ky and Decker strode in before he even had a chance to tell them to come in. He forgave them because he really needed to get his mind off Runa and Limos. And because they brought beer.

Decker pulled a bottle of Bud out of the six-pack and tossed it to Arik. “You can take the redneck out of the country…” Arik said.

“… but you can’t take the Bud away from the redneck,” Kynan finished, and Decker shot them both the bird.

“The way I see it,” Decker drawled, “you can drink warm water from the tap, or you can drink an ice cold Budweiser.” He held up the six-pack, minus one, dangled it in front of Kynan.

“Yeah, yeah. Give me the damned beer. But don’t think I’ll spontaneously start watching NASCAR or something.”

“I’m telling ya, you’d love the short-track racing,” Decker muttered, tossing him a beer.

“Only if the drivers are demons,” Kynan said.

Decker shrugged. “There’s been speculation about the Busch brothers. They ain’t right. And Jimmy Johnson. He wins too much for it to be natural.”

Rolling his eyes, Kynan took a seat in one of two chairs, and Arik took the other. Like old times, Decker threw himself