Free Darkness of the Soul by Kaine Andrews

Drakanis had always noticed was his attention to detail in everything he did. His nails were always perfectly done, cut probably to the millimeter in precision. His clothes always looked as though they’d been made out of steel; they were kept so straight and even that you almost thought they were a built-in part of him. Everything he said came out that way too; he never used a contraction—at least, not that Drakanis had ever noticed—and he always used a person’s full name. He made sure to always provide clarification when asked. Even the tone of voice itself was almost anal-retentive in his modulation of it, and his enunciation would make English teachers the world around cream their jeans if they heard him speak a few words.
    Parker was shaking his head, glancing over at Drakanis briefly before turning back to Perez. “No, I ain’t gonna be okay, Julio. I’m pretty fucking shitty, as a matter of fact, but physically I’m fine.” He flapped a hand, almost dismissively, and then added, “Sorry about that.”
    Perez shrugged, his shoulders rolling up and back down the barest fraction of an inch to be detectable. Then he lowered his voice. “I know this is a difficult thing for you, Vincent. You as well, Michael.” At that, Drakanis cringed. Very few people even bothered with Mike, let alone Michael, and it made him think of Gina again. “And I would rather that you could stay, but…” He spread his hands, again with the same apologetic but stern facial expression.
    Drakanis was finding something resembling his sense again and just shook his head. “I understand. It’s cool. Look, I’m… sorry.” His voice was trembling, hard to read, and Perez thought he detected a note of anger in it, but Drakanis was holding all of that for himself. He should have known better than to just start shouting, but… A million excuses started to crowd in on him, so he just shook his head again and took a step back, mumbling another, “I’m sorry,” as he did so.
    Perez just nodded, flicked his eyes over Drakanis’s shoulder to Parker for a fraction of an instant, and then disappeared back inside, leaving the giant to try to sort through the rest of the mess. Neither of them said anything for several minutes, until Drakanis offered up another, “I’m sorry,” which pushed Parker over the edge.
    “Jesus fucking Christ, Mikey, would you shut the fuck up? Party foul, that’s all. Besides, Brokov’s a bitch sometimes, and Woods is a little weasel, so who gives a shit what they think? The rest of ’em will get over it eventually, so fuck ’em. If I can give you a day pass, they sure as fuck had better.”
    Parker was thinking about Morrigan now, and it was pushing what he really wanted— needed —to talk to Drakanis about right out of his mind. That was bad, but it was hard to stop it from happening. When the man who basically sponsored your whole career on the force, who had been there to listen when your only surviving relative finally kicked the bucket, who had taken you in and let you marry his daughter and then tried to help you through it when she decided another woman was a better choice, when that man dies—especially young and sudden—there’s a lot of shit to wade through, and Parker was still trying to get it into his head that there was that shit to wade through.
    Drakanis looked about ready to let loose with some sharp comment, but the look on the other man’s face gave him pause. He knew better than most how it had been with Parker and how Morrigan had been one of the few people Parker had let into his inner life. You could count those people on one hand, regardless of his apparent cheerfulness and the dozens of “hellos” that seemed to follow him around. Knowing that and seeing the look on Parker’s face, Drakanis found he couldn’t do or say much at all, just stand there with his hands in his pockets and wait, looking uncomfortable and wondering if it had been this way when Gina had