Devlin remained standing—as always—and Stryker tried not to squirm in his chair like an errant schoolboy.

The first time he’d been summoned to this office, the pose had been the same, only it had been Devlin’s father looking at him sternly and Stryker had been seven years old. His temper had set off a minor earthquake that managed to swallow up a small auditorium, which, thankfully, had been empty at the time.

Stryker now knew that the man had been Devlin’s adoptive father. A fact that shook him to the core, only because Devlin was nothing like Itor’s leader. It certainly proved the nature-versus-nurture theory Devlin was always so ferociously preaching.

He wondered how long Devlin had known about Alek, wanted to ask him, but Devlin wasn’t in the mood to answer Stryker’s questions. No, Dev had crossed his arms in his I’m-waiting-so-let’s-give-this-your-best-shot-at-an-explanation-before-I-rip-you-a-new-one pose.

God, this was going to hurt.

Some guys got off on being in constant trouble. Stryker wasn’t one of them. “I like Mel.”

There, nice and goddamned fucking lame.

“Gee, I hadn’t noticed,” Dev said.

“You never said sex was off-limits on this job,” he snapped, and then realized with a stunning clarity that he’d slept with the boss’s sister. See, that was almost enough to make him light-headed, if the anger at being kept in the dark about the exact nature of this mission didn’t break through. “And how long have you known that your father is the head of I?”

Devlin’s stance didn’t change, nor did his expression. “I didn’t think you needed a checklist before a mission this dangerous. You didn’t have the clearance to know about Alek—and the information you’ve learned goes no further than this room.”

“How are you going to keep Phoebe’s mouth shut?”

“Since you seem to know Mel so intimately, I guess that’s your job,” Dev snarled.

“You have to make sure Phoebe doesn’t come out. Don’t you get it, Dev? I still want that bitch dead. But Mel …” He shook his head. “No one deserves what she’s been through.”

“Is it true Phoebe’s afraid of your power?”

“Yes. She ran away from me in the Amazon after I started an earthquake. She got so scared she retreated her personality and let Mel come out. That’s when I first met her, although at the time I thought she was just a damned good actress.”

Dev narrowed his eyes. “You understand how much is riding on your ability to tell them apart.”

“Of course I do. And I do know her better than anyone.” Maybe even better than she knew herself, if that was possible.

“If you take this on—”

“I am taking this on,” Stryker interrupted. As he got up, the walls began to shake and he stood toe-to-toe with Dev, and yeah, bad idea, because Devlin’s temper flamed as effectively as Phoebe’s.

Within seconds, Dev slammed against him, pinning him to the wall with a surprising strength for a man who wasn’t an excedo. “Shut it down and listen to me, you dumbshit. You got too close. Sex on the job works when it’s for intel. You got your intel and you continued screwing around with a woman who is the enemy.”

Stryker remained with Devlin’s arm across his windpipe, knowing full well he was putting his life in Dev’s hands. “Phoebe is the enemy, Mel isn’t. Don’t you dare insinuate that I insulted Akbar’s memory,” he croaked.

“I didn’t do anything of the sort,” Dev said quietly as the pressure increased on Stryker’s throat. “I guess that was your guilty conscience whispering in your ear.”

“Fuck you, Devlin.” Stryker growled the words through gritted teeth because it was better than breaking down again. Doing so once—and in Mel’s arms, no less—was enough.

“If you’re unsure at all about Melanie—”

“I’m not.”

Devlin’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t say anything else when he moved away to let Stryker breathe again.

Stryker coughed, drew in a full breath, and then pushed away from the wall. Devlin spoke before Stryker had a chance to say anything.

“Obviously, Melanie has trouble controlling her temper flares as well,” Dev commented. “You seem to know about that.”

Stryker ignored the well-deserved dig. “Phoebe knows how to control her powers. Mel doesn’t. She can shoot and score, but she can’t stop herself from using it all up in one or two shots. She improved in a short amount of time—and under pressure—when she helped us escape from the underground prison in Rome, but she’ll need a lot of training before she’s consistent.”

“Then you’ll work with her in a safe location. You can teach her as well as anyone. And you can practice your self-control at the same time,” Devlin said. “I realize that her powers pulled at your elementalist side, but now that you recognize the problem, you can fight it. How long does it take her to recharge her powers?”

“Twenty-four to forty-eight hours for a full recharge, although with every hour, she gets a little stronger.”

“But there’s a way she can charge fully—and fast—right?” Dev asked. “One you’ve gotten a little too much pleasure out of.”

“Yes.” Stryker wasn’t about to give the man any more fodder.

“Since she won’t need to recharge her powers quickly, she can let it happen the old-fashioned way—with time and rest. Better that we never have her at full charge anyway, correct?”

Stryker felt himself tense, knowing this was—and would continue to be—a giant test of his self-control. Already he was uncertain, but Devlin was leaving him no room for choice.

Still, he didn’t answer and Devlin didn’t push. The man would simply assume that an order given was an order followed.

“If what Melanie’s saying is true—that she wants a chance at a new life with ACRO—she’ll play an integral part in Itor’s takedown.” Dev’s gaze drilled into Stryker, as if daring him to argue. “We have a once-and-for-all shot at destroying them. We need to take that opportunity. But she has to know she’s putting her life on the line, no matter which agency she chooses. She might not make it out of this alive.”

“None of us might,” Stryker added. “And we’re all still willing.”

“That’s good to hear.” Dev paused. “The science lab will verify and reproduce the shots Melanie brought with her. Check on them in the morning. For tonight, let Melanie sleep off Phoebe in the cave. You can pick her up tomorrow, take her to medical for some tests I want done, and then keep her with you until nightfall. She’s not to leave your sight for any reason.”

Stryker nodded. “I’m sorry, Devlin. Learning about her must’ve been hard.”

When Devlin didn’t answer, Stryker took that as a sign he’d been dismissed. He was at the door when Devlin spoke again.

“Stryker?”

Stryker didn’t turn around—didn’t want to—but he paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”

“For the record, Akbar would be damned proud of you for trying to help an agent in need.”

Stryker rested his forehead on the door frame and closed his eyes. “Would he forgive me, though?”

“He’d tell you that you need to forgive yourself first.”

“Easier said than done,” he mumbled, and heard Devlin saying “I know that too” as Stryker exited the office.

“You’re pushing too hard.”

Dev gritted his teeth as he pushed the weight bar off his chest, an inhuman sound escaping his throat. “You saying I’m old?”

“You’re not young.” Ender cocked an eyebrow. “What are you trying to prove—that you could take down Itor all by yourself if you wanted?”

“Yes.” Dev grunted out another rep with a weight Ender could no doubt lift with his dick, his arms shaking so badly the bar only made it halfway before it began to come down toward his chest.

“ ’Kay, s’long as we’re clear on you setting realistic goals.” Ender leaned over as the weight forced the bar to crush Dev’s throat. “Want me to take that now, big guy?”

“Fuck. You.”

“I’ll leave that to your young man,” Ender said with a smile, and, yes, Dev would find a way to make the excedo pay. Having children had only made the man more of an asshole, if that was even possible—and Ender seemed to relish the title.

Ender took the bar off him, finally, and Dev lay there limp, panting. “Get the fuck out of here. Now.”

At least Ender knew to quit when he was ahead, sauntered out of the semi-private excedo gym as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Devlin remained prone, catching his breath and stewing about what lay ahead.

He had Alek’s daughter in his possession. Whether or not Alek knew—or suspected—was a subject of much debate among the psychics at ACRO. They were hard at work, as was the IT department, trying to figure out if there was chatter about Alek’s missing prodigy.

Stryker believed in Melanie, enough to agree to shadow her. Devlin couldn’t read either Phoebe or Melanie’s mind, a fact that bothered him immensely. He’d lied to Phoebe when he said he could read her, but truth was he’d have to rely on his other senses to see if he was being bullshitted.

He scrubbed his face with his palms and wished his plan was taking better shape. He’d always been good at coordinating strike attacks—it was one of his strengths. He wasn’t sure if he was simply too close to the target this time … but something was off.

He was about to get up and head to the showers when Gabriel strolled in, wearing sweats and a tank top, and Devlin wanted nothing more than to fuck him, right on this bench. His reaction to the boy was that instantaneous.

Gabe stopped short when he saw Devlin. “I thought this gym was for the excedos only.” Yes, Gabe was still pissed, even though he sported an erection as hard as Devlin’s own.

“Excedos and the man who runs the place,” Devlin pointed out, and Gabe shrugged like that didn’t impress him at all.

Correction, Devlin’s job didn’t impress him—not in a star-fucker kind of way. Devlin knew that Gabe wasn’t with him because of who he was.

Actually, these days, Dev had to admit he wasn’t sure why Gabriel was with him at all. Marlena was right—Dev hadn’t given him much reason to hang in there, beyond the sex.

“That still doesn’t answer the question,” Gabe pointed out.

Breathe, Devlin. Just breathe and keep your temper. “I was training with Ender.”

“You could’ve asked me, you know.”

He could have. Probably, he should have. “I didn’t think you were speaking to me.”

“You don’t ask me for anything even when we are speaking.”

“Christ, when did you turn into a girl?”

Yes, that certainly did it. Gabriel punched the wall, collapsing the cement in a nice, round circle and proving he was not a girl, and then he left, stalking out in a way that made Dev horny.

Gabriel always made him horny. All the training, the testosterone, was just making Dev want him more. Want it more.

“What are you going to do, order him to come back?” he muttered to himself.

“You could try asking.”

Dev shot up, because that was Oz’s voice. And when his dead lover finally deigned to talk to him, Dev was sure as hell going to listen.

That didn’t mean he was going to take Oz’s shit lying down. “Fuck you, Oz. What? You want to watch?”

“I do, sometimes.”

“Asshole,” Devlin muttered, still refusing to turn around to the place Oz’s voice was coming from.

“You never minded that,” Oz said. “And you’re really fucking things up.”

“Thanks for pointing out my shortcomings. Always a pleasure to have you visit.”

“I sent Gabriel to you because that’s the way it was always meant to be. I can’t force things to happen, but I can move them along in the right direction,” Oz told him. “But Gabriel’s meant to be here, at ACRO, as more than just your lover. You know that. And you’re holding back, hurting yourself and him and ACRO, by not sharing information because you’re embarrassed by your heritage, and you’re afraid he’ll be repulsed enough to leave you. You’re holding him at arm’s length to protect yourself. Not him.”

“Why are you lecturing me?”

“I’m not telling you anything your own conscience hasn’t, Devlin. That was quite a pot-calling-the-kettle-black conversation you had with Stryker earlier.”

Devlin turned to see Oz sitting on one of the weight benches in his black leather, looking completely real and not at all corporeal.

Goddammit, he hated that Oz knew him so well.

“I know. It’s why you don’t want Gabe to know you—why you keep shoving him away. But when I’m gone, who’s going to call you on your shit?”

Gone? “What do you mean gone?”

“Ah, Dev, come on. We’ve known each other too long to play games. I’m not hanging around forever. I’m not part of a soul posse. I bought some extra time, but that’s all.” Oz’s voice was gentle but his words weren’t. “Gabe’s a big part of your plan. Tell him everything. Let him help you.”

Dev turned away. “How is he going to help me?”

“You’d be surprised what happens when you let someone inside, Devlin. But you already knew that.”

When Devlin turned around with a retort, Oz was gone.