“He’ll be okay.”

  “You think so?”

  “It’s Dex.”

  “Exactly.” Austen rubbed at his chin. “We worried about this, remember? About your husband and his bleeding heart.”

  Sloane couldn’t deny it. “It’s part of what makes him so good at his job.”

  “It’s also what makes him vulnerable.”

  Austen wasn’t wrong. Next to Cael, Dex had the biggest heart of anyone they knew. This kind of loss was going to hit him hard. Sloane drummed his fingers on his knee.

  “Hey.” Austen leaned his elbows on the desk. “It’s me, remember?”

  How could Sloane forget? Austen was more than their handler. He was family. Sloane had been the one to introduce him to the THIRDS, to Sparks, back when Austen had been a kid living on the streets, stealing to survive. It was how they met. Austen had stolen Sloane’s wallet, and Sloane caught the kid. They’d been friends ever since. Although at times Sloane regretted introducing Austen to Sparks, he never regretted having Austen in his life.

  “My instinct is to say he’s going to be okay, but the truth is, I don’t know,” Sloane admitted. “This is different.” They’d faced a lot of close calls over the years, almost lost each other, friends, and family, but in the end, they always came through to the other side. They’d acquired some scars along the way, not all visible, but they’d made it. This time so much had changed. Dex had changed. As much as he wanted to confide in Austen about Dex’s mutation, he didn’t. They needed to know more before bringing it to TIN.

  Austen sat back in his chair, the heaviness settling around them. “Yeah.” He pursed his lips. “He didn’t even steal the cheesy doodles out of my desk.”

  Sloane couldn’t help his smile. “It’s cute that you keep your desk stocked with those.”

  “It’s not cute when your thieving husband steals them,” Austen grumbled.

  “Dex and Zach have the same favorite snack. Nothing I can do about that.” The Great Cheesy Doodle Rivalry had existed between Dex and Zach since Dex’s first day at the THIRDS after his unfortunate encounter with the huge bear Therian agent and the last packet of cheese snacks. It was how Dex and Sloane first met. Chaos wasn’t so much Dex’s codename as it was his state of being.

  “I’m giving you guys some time off.”

  “You really think he’s going to accept that?” The last thing Dex would want is time off to stew in everything that had happened. Not when he could throw himself into the next assignment.

  “He won’t have a choice. Like you said, this time is different. Before he gets sent on another mission, I need to make sure his head is in the right place, and after having the kid die in his arms, it’s not going to be.”

  Austen knew Dex well, and Sloane couldn’t argue. Dex needed time, even if his husband didn’t know it.

  “What about Sparks?”

  “Let me deal with Sparks.”

  “Sounds good to me. Thanks.” Sloane left Austen’s office and headed down to the basement and Keane’s lab.

  Keane looked up from his table where he was tinkering with something. He motioned to his right, where Dex sat on the sofa. Dex clapped his hands, and Def Leppard’s “Photograph” burst through the speakers.

  “Clapper,” Dex said to Rowan, who rolled her eyes at him from her perch on top of the filing cabinet.

  “What is it with you and eighties music?”

  Sloane silently leaned against the wall to watch the two. It was highly entertaining. Dex wasn’t used to having such a big generation gap between him and someone he worked with. Even Austen, who’d been the youngest of their group, was only ten years younger than Dex.

  “It’s called classic rock for a reason,” Dex said, drumming his imaginary drum set.

  “The reason being that it’s old? Like you?” Rowan leaned her elbows on her knees and propped her chin in her hands, her eyes filled with mischief, despite her stoic expression. Everything she said was deadpan, so if you didn’t know her, you’d think she had no sense of humor when the opposite was true.

  “Aw, are you saying I’m classic?” Dex put a hand to his chest. “Thanks, Ro.”

  “What did you do before cell phones?”

  Dex arched an eyebrow at her. “Telephones had thankfully been invented.”

  “But what if they weren’t home?”

  “Then we waited.”

  “For what?” Ro asked, confused.

  “Um, waited for them to get home.”

  Sloane couldn’t help but laugh at Rowan’s scandalized expression. He dropped onto the couch next to Dex, kissing his temple and throwing an arm around the back of the couch.

  “You waited? What if that took, like, an hour?”

  “Sometimes it took longer,” Dex said. “You’d leave a message with their mom, or heaven forbid, their sister, who you knew would never give them your message because she’d be on the phone for the next million years talking to her asshat boyfriend with the Flock of Seagulls haircut and Thriller jacket.”

  “I didn’t understand any of that,” Rowan murmured. “But what if you really needed to reach them?”

  Dex shrugged. “Then you got on your bike and went to find them, picked up a slice of pizza along the way, or some candy.” He lifted his gaze to Sloane’s. “Remember the candy cigarettes?”

  “Which ones? The ones that you blew and the puff of smoke came out or the thin ones that tasted like sugary chalk?”

  Rowan gaped at them. “They made cigarettes for children? This explains so much.”

  “Hey, thanks to the eighties, I grew up ready to take on the dangerous life of a spy. Back then, our clothes were flammable, our playgrounds concrete, Duck Hunt taught us to shoot, and our toys were designed to test our stress levels. One of these days, I’m going to introduce you to a little game called Perfection.”

  Sloane pursed his lips. “I remember that game. Did you know if you toss it out of a four-story window and the timer goes off, the game goes down while the pieces go up? Ask me how I know that.”

  Dex blinked at him.

  “Ash and timed-puzzle games do not mix.”

  Dex barked out a laugh. “Oh my God, I need to buy him one right now.” He took out his cell phone and immediately went to work ordering Ash a game of Perfection.

  “I can’t believe that your dad let you have candy cigarettes,” Keane said, shaking his head.

  Dex snorted. “Are you nuts? Of course he didn’t. But it was the eighties. Video game time was scheduled, and when we weren’t doing our homework, we were outside on our bikes. I’d ride to the candy store, buy the max amount I was allowed.”

  “Max amount?” Rowan asked.

  “My dad was a cop. He made sure every candy store in the city only sold me a certain amount of candy, and no one was going to deny Anthony Maddock. What my dad didn’t know was that I’d quickly worked out a way around this.”

  Keane snickered. “Of course you did.”

  “I’d ride out to several candy stores and buy the max I was allowed. I’d eat some of it, not all of it, so he wouldn’t suspect anything, and then have the rest at school the next day. I wasn’t the best dodgeball player at school because of my natural talent. I was high as a fucking kite from all the sugar.”

  They all laughed, and Sloane knew Dex’s smile wouldn’t last, but he’d enjoy it as much as he could before everything that had happened over the last few days resurfaced. Whatever happened, he’d be there next to Dex, helping him through it, same as always.

  [Location: Daley House, Redacted, New York City]

  It happened sooner than Sloane had expected. The next day he’d gone out to get some milk, and when he walked through the front door, the house was too quiet, which never boded well. Over the years he’d gotten used to classic rock and eighties pop filling the air, Dex’s husky voice resonating as he sang along. It was usually accompanied by his husband dancing around or playing air guitar. Because no matter how old Dex got, he was still that eighties kid who loved his hair bands and eighties flicks.

  Their house was usually filled with life, music, and laughter. Sometimes after a tough mission, it would be a little quiet, but that never lasted long. They’d quickly get back to themselves. One of them would say something ridiculous, sending them into a fit of laughter, and normalcy would be restored. Sloane had no idea how to get to that place this time around.

  As he suspected, he found Dex upstairs in their bedroom. His husband sat on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees as he stared at nothing. How long had he been sitting there like that? As much as Dex had calmed over the years, stillness and silence were rare occurrences for Dexter J. Daley.

  “My back is starting to hurt,” Dex said. “Getting older sucks. When did my back start hurting? I was talking to myself before you arrived. Not like I haven’t talked to myself before, so definitely not a first, but I figured depending on who answered back, it might be. I’m not making any sense. Ignore me.” With a groan, he fell back onto the bed. “Why does this weird shit only happen to me? Don’t answer that.”

  Sloane chuckled as he approached the bed. “Hey, sweetheart.”

  “Hey.” Dex stayed where he was, eyes on the ceiling. “When’s the last time we dusted?”

  “Um, before we left? Baby, it’s you. No dust particle would dare to form in your presence. They know better.” Cleaning was how Dex let off steam. Bugs and dust mites knew better than to infiltrate their house.

  Dex nodded, and Sloane toed off his shoes. He lay on his stomach next to Dex and propped himself on his elbows.

  “Want to talk?”

  “About what? My failing Kenley? His dying in my arms? The new friend in my head?” Dex let out a humorless laugh. “Who knew after all these years of Ash calling me nuts that he’d end up being right?”

  “Stop.” Sloane rolled Dex over to face him. “You’re not crazy, and you know it.” He hated seeing Dex like this.

  “I feel like I’m losing my grip. Like I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  Needing to comfort Dex, Sloane lay over him, his legs to each side of Dex’s. Tenderly he ran his fingers through Dex’s soft dirty-blond hair. “You’re Dexter J. Daley, unstoppable force of nature. My husband.”

  “Unstoppable.” Dex shook his head. “I’m not anything. I’m not invincible, not unstoppable, not even capable.”

  “That’s enough,” Sloane scolded. “You’re more than capable. Do you think if you weren’t, you would have been recruited by TIN?”

  “They recruited me because of what I have inside me. Without it, I wouldn’t even qualify. It’s the Therian Intelligence Network. Humans can only be assets, not operatives. They made an exception for the only Human-Therian hybrid they know. Their ‘secret weapon.’”

  “You’re scared.”

  “I’m terrified,” Dex whispered. “I hate this. Hate doubting myself. My whole life, fear was a tool I used to motivate me. I refused to let it take hold. I can’t afford to doubt myself. Not when it could lead to you getting hurt on the job.”

  “Tell me why you’re terrified.”

  Dex opened his mouth, then closed it. He averted his gaze. “You ran from me.”

  Was the pain in Sloane’s heart coming from him or Dex? From the very beginning, they’d had a special bond. Dex was his life, his heart. Knowing his husband was in pain…

  Dex met Sloane’s gaze. “You’ve never run from me.”

  Sloane swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “I know.”

  “You were scared. Of me.”

  “I was… cautious.”

  “Cautious,” Dex murmured, sounding unimpressed. “When did we start bullshitting each other?”

  “You’re right,” Sloane said with a sigh. He opened his eyes and met Dex’s gaze. “My inner felid told me to run. You… you were the bigger threat. The bigger predator.”

  Dex stared at him. “Me?” He shook his head. “That’s not possible. Even if I have jaguar Therian DNA, you’re the apex predator, the alpha.”

  “Not anymore. Whatever you just became, you’re far more dangerous.”

  Dex pressed his lips together, clearly trying to keep his emotions at bay.

  Steady, sweetheart. Breathe.

  When Dex appeared calmer, he spoke up. “Do you think that’s what Kenley and the others sensed? Why they reacted to me the way they did?”

  “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  “What’s happening to me?”

  Sloane brushed his lips over Dex’s, and Dex’s eyes drifted shut. He hoped Dex would take comfort in him, like he always had. “Whatever happens,” Sloane said, running a thumb over Dex’s jawline, “I’m going to be right there with you. We’ll figure this out, same as we always have.” He paused, seeming to hesitate. “Can you… describe it to me?”

  Dex closed his eyes. “At that moment, all I felt was pain, loss, and failure. Darkness swept over me. It was like I was falling, like I’d jumped from a plane with no parachute, everything getting farther and farther away until there was only darkness. When I thought I was going to either keep falling forever or slam into the ground, something cracked the pitch-black and I wasn’t alone anymore. I was scared yet at the same time…”

  “Comforted.”

  “Yeah. Suddenly my senses weren’t just sharper, I could anticipate movement. Whatever was in my head with me, made me stronger, faster, fearless. I was scared of what was happening to me, but at the same time, I wasn’t scared of anything else. Like it—he—knew things I didn’t.”

  “He is you, sweetheart,” Sloane said. “Your Therian half is a part of you.”

  “But he talked to me, Sloane.”

  Sloane pulled back. “You mean your consciousness spoke back.”

  Dex shook his head. “It wasn’t my voice. He wasn’t me.”

  “That’s not possible. A Therian’s animal half is simply that, half of us, a part of us.” Sometimes their Therian halves fought them, voiced strong opinions, but it was the more animalistic parts of them, part of their subconscious. It was never someone else.

  “But I wasn’t born a Therian, Sloane. I wasn’t born with this other part of me. I inherited jaguar Therian traits from you. So, if he’s not me, and he’s not you, who the fuck is in my head?”

  Sloane swallowed hard, the fear in Dex’s bright blue eyes hurting his heart. “I don’t know.” He wanted to help, to fix this, but he had no idea how. This was uncharted territory for both of them.

  “I doubt anyone knows,” Dex said with a sigh. “No records exist of a Human with a Therian half, much less a Therian who isn’t them.”

  “Can you hear him now?” Sloane asked.

  “No. I think he’s asleep. He, uh… told me to let him out.”

  Sloane’s eyes went wide, his heart in his throat. “What does that mean?” Were there more changes in store for Dex? What if this led to something far worse than they expected? It was one thing for Dex to inherit Therian traits, or to suddenly develop a Therian half, but how far would his mutation go? Would he ever stop mutating? What would be left of Dex? Sloane quickly shook those thoughts from his head. No. He wasn’t going to go down that route. They’d be okay. They had to be.

  “When I was going after Vaughan, a piece of the ceiling collapsed on me. I was trapped. The voice—he—said to let him out, so I did. When Vaughan was killed, he was in control. I couldn’t stop him, Sloane. He wouldn’t listen.”

  Sloane thought about this. “You know, I was born a Therian. My Therian half has always been a part of me, always been there. With the exception of that mess with the mind control drug years ago, the two of us have always been in sync. Like you said, you weren’t born a Therian. Maybe you’re just out of sync?”

  “Maybe.”

  “It’s probably a good thing Austen’s giving us some time off, then,” Sloane offered gently.

  Dex groaned. “Are you kidding me? He’s benching us?”

  “It’s not a bad idea. It’ll give us some time to try and find some answers on our own. TIN knows about the rosettes, but they don’t know about… him.”

  “Ugh, this is all kinds of fucked-up.” Dex wrinkled his nose. “They’re going to want to run more tests.”

  As far as Dex was concerned, the tests were useless. TIN had been monitoring his mutation for years, and they were no closer to knowing what was going on inside him. Sloane couldn’t fault his husband for his frustration. It had been years since Dex started changing. How could TIN not know anything?

  Therians had always been a part of Dex’s life. His little brother was Therian. His friends, teammates, husband. But it was different to suddenly be part Therian. There was so much they didn’t know, but one thing they’d always counted on was Dex remaining Human. He’d always been Human.

  Had.

  “You sure you don’t want to cancel tomorrow?” Sloane asked.

  “Positive. Being surrounded by family, people who are important to me… I need that right now. Speaking of family…” Dex wrapped his arms around Sloane’s neck, a soft smile spreading across his plump lips. “It’s good to be home.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Sloane brushed his lips over Dex’s. “We’ll sort it out, baby.”

  Dex nodded. He thrust his hips up and rubbed himself against Sloane, making him groan. He was so fucking beautiful, so strong, and bright. Sloane could never lose that brightness. Dex was the beacon in the storm. It was why Dex had gotten the retro-styled half-sleeve tattoo on his left forearm, as a gift for Sloane.

  When Sloane had found out Dex had their friend Calvin design a tattoo for him, Sloane had asked Calvin to design him a matching one, so when Sloane’s right arm was pressed to Dex’s, it made one image.

  Sloane’s ship faced Dex’s lighthouse beneath a starry sky amid a swirling stormy sea, the style reminiscent of the tattoos sailors used to get back in the day. From the beginning, Sloane had called Dex his light, always guiding him home no matter how bad the storm or how black the darkness.

  “I’ll guide you home through the darkest night. Always,” Sloane said, the words scripted on the scrolling ribbon beneath Dex’s lighthouse forever held in Sloane’s heart.