He opened his mouth to speak.

“I don’t want to hear it and neither does your poor mother, God rest her soul. You go on now and get out of here. Don’t come back until you get your head on straight and think of someone other than yourself. You hear me? You show your mother the respect she deserves for the decision she made.”

Nick narrowed his eyes. He’d argue with her, but he knew her better than that. There was no talking to Menyara when she was in a mood like this.

Disgusted with the whole thing, he turned and left, with no real destination in mind. He merely slinked off toward Conti. The streets were eerily familiar, and at the same time they, like him, were so empty. This time of year, there should have been tons of tourists about. Shopkeepers should be hosing off the balconies and streets.

Instead there were orange barrels and construction sites all around. The sound of jackhammers had replaced that of morning jazz and beeping horns.

Pain infiltrated every particle of his body.…

Until he crossed over to Acme Oyster House on Iberville. God, how many times had he eaten here? How many laughs and beers had he shared with his mother and friends?

It looked the same, only fresher from reconstruction. He stood beside the window, watching the waiters take orders and people chat … until his gaze fell to the table in a corner, near the back.

His heart stopped beating. It was Kyrian Hunter and his wife with their daughter Marissa and a baby boy Nick had never seen before. They were laughing and chatting with other people Nick had once called friends—Vane and Bride, Julian and Grace. But what absolutely floored him was the fact that they were sharing a table with Valerius and Tabitha. Since Tabitha was the twin sister of Amanda, that wasn’t the shocker.

Valerius was what stunned him.

A mortal enemy of Julian and Kyrian, Valerius’s family had tricked and killed Kyrian—then destroyed the people and country the two of them had fought and died to protect. For centuries, they had nursed bitter hatred toward each other.

And now Kyrian was handing his son over to a man he’d once sworn to decapitate.…

How had this happened?

When had this happened?

How could Kyrian ever sit down at a table with a man whose family had taken Kyrian’s wife, destroyed Kyrian’s country and caused Kyrian’s father to kill himself? Never mind laugh with the bastard.

How could anyone forgive that?

“Nick?”

He jerked at the quiet whisper from behind him. It was Stryker’s half sister, Satara. Tall and dazzling, she was the epitome of feminine beauty and grace.

He stepped back so that the others couldn’t see him on the street. “What are you doing here?”

“I felt a strange sensation coming from you and I wanted to see what caused it.”