All of them.

It was one of the reasons why Darling had been so fascinated by electronics and explosives as a kid. As far back as Maris could remember, Darling had been obsessed with protecting himself from would-be assassins.

Ironically, it had been an assassin who finally quelled Darling’s fear of them. Nykyrian had taught Darling every trick a trained assassin had. Even some that no one knew.

And Darling had learned well. He forgot nothing. If any member of his line stood a chance of making it to old age, it was he.

Maris covered him with a blanket.

At least he’s talking to me again. That was something. But as he watched Darling finally sleep, he had the worst feeling that it was too late to bring him back from the insanity that had sunk its hooks into him. After all the things Darling had been through, Maris had never seen him like this.

His anger and rage were tangible.

“I just want the pain to stop.” Darling’s heartfelt words haunted him.

Maris’s gaze fell to the scars on Darling’s wrists that hadn’t come from his attackers or Arturo. Those had been Darling’s attempts to stop his pain when he was just a boy. Three times he’d tried to kill himself—once with drugs and twice by slashing his wrists. Three times they’d brought him back against his will. The only thing that had kept him from a fourth attempt had been Arturo’s threat to kill Lise if Darling tried again.

Darling’s entire life had been a study in trying to find shelter in the middle of an unrelenting storm that was determined to bring him to his knees.

Wishing he could help his best friend, Maris picked up Darling’s hand from the bed and studied the scar on his finger that showed where Syn had added the cybernetic replacement for the one they’d cut off.

He laced his fingers with Darling’s scarred ones. Why couldn’t I be what you need?

It was why he’d never been serious about anyone else. How could he? He was in love with his best friend and no one else measured up.

But Maris had long ago accepted the fact that they could never be lovers. Darling couldn’t help being straight any more than he could help being gay. Having tried to live in each other’s worlds, they knew that for a fact.

Even so, they were closer than most couples he’d known, straight or homosexual. Closer than any siblings. Maris took pride and pleasure in knowing that. He held a part of Darling that no one ever had. A special place that was reserved exclusively for him.

Still, it wasn’t Darling’s heart.

Only Zarya had ever held that. How could she have been so stupid?

She’d had Darling wrapped around her finger. He’d been his happiest when she was a part of his life. Maris could still see the light that had been in Darling’s eyes when he spoke of her in ways he’d sell his soul to have Darling speak about him.