Cay Bel Iblis let himself into his chief engineer’s garage workshop, pausing a moment to regard the maelstrom taking place. Davil Bullian was throwing things for no good reason, it seemed, banging around and rummaging for tools where they clearly were not located. In the nearly nineteen years they’d known each other, he’d never seen his longtime friend with an expression quite like the one he was sporting at present. Davil didn’t acknowledge him-didn’t even seem to notice his presence-as he finally stopped at his workbench, where some bit of technology lay in pieces. He was muttering to himself as he reached out, groping for a tool that lay just beyond his reach.
“Stupid Dad…coming home…bastard…”
Cay shook his head, leaning against a shelving unit near the door. “Don’t hold back, tell me how you really feel.”