Sabin wore all black, as well, but his brown hair, brown eyes and square, guileless face didn't make him look as if he would kill anyone who approached him—and laugh while doing it.

Both men were stubborn to their very cores.

"I need time to think," Reyes said, hoping to play on their sympathy.

"There's nothing to think about," Sabin replied. "You will do what's right because you're an honorable warrior."

Aren't you? Perhaps you are as weak as the human girl you desire. Why else would you hurt those who love you like this?

Ouch, he thought, cringing. He was weak. He was—"Sabin," Reyes growled as realization set in. "Stop sending doubts into my mind. I have enough of my own."

The warrior shrugged sheepishly, not even trying to deny it. "Sorry."

"Since our meeting is clearly not canceled," Gideon said, "I'm not heading into the city, not visiting Club Destiny, and not screwing a few screams of pleasure out of a human female." He disappeared behind the door a second later, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Don't cancel the meeting," Reyes told the others. "Just…start without me." He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze starting in the sky and falling slowly. Night's sinister canvas still waited, beckoning him to finally leap. "I'll be down in a few."

Paris's lips twitched. "Down. Funny. Maybe I'll meet you down there and we can play Hide-the-Pancreas again. Forcing you to completely regenerate rather than simply heal always amuses me."

Even Lucien grinned at that.

"Oh, oh, I wanna play! Can I hide his liver this time?"

At the sound of Anya's sultry voice, Reyes stifled a groan.

The white-haired goddess of Anarchy rushed through the doorway and threw herself into Lucien's now-open arms, her strawberry fragrance drifting on the ever-increasing wind. The pair cooed and cuddled like lovesick idiots for an eternity, lost in each other, the world around them forgotten.