The Overseer by Conlan Brown

banker.”
    “Oh.” John bobbed his head sarcastically. “A banker.” His heart rate quickened with every breath. “So, that’s what it takes to get a woman’s attention? A banker? If I were a banker would you have stayed in the country?”
    “It wasn’t like that, John. I left because I didn’t think that it was going to be safe for me.”
    John clenched his fists, leaning against the counter. “I was Overseer. I could have made it safe!”
    “That wasn’t the only reason I left,” she argued.
    “Then what? What was it that made it so stinking important for you to leave the hemisphere ?”
    Her cheeks got rosy. “It was you , John. I had to leave because I was falling for you again—and I couldn’t let that happen.”
    He threw his hands up, letting out a furious sigh. “Oh, but of course—because falling for me is the worst thing that could happen, and escaping as far away from me as possible is the only solution.”
    “John!” she shouted. “What was going to happen? We’d already tried it before—”
    “And it was the most meaningful thing I’ve ever experienced,” he growled.
    “Really?” she demanded. “Was that before or after you ran away to Thailand for a year, leaving me alone, humiliated, and heartbroken?”
    “That was different!”
    “How?” She snarled. “How was that different?”
    “I came back for you!”
    “Only after I had endured all the public shame and humiliation I could stand.”
    John shook his head with vigor. “And when I came back— eating crow by the mouthful—you fed me to the dogs!”
    “Always the martyr,” Trista spat. “Can’t you just once think about the consequences of what you’ve done?”
    John folded his arms, looking away. “This is ridiculous.”
    Trista was quiet for a moment. “I’m not going to take this, John,” she said, reaching for her purse. “You want to know why I couldn’t stay around you? Because you’re an unstable, showboating, lazy child!”
    “And Holden is a real man?” John spat.
    “Yes,” she said, walking toward the door. “He’s everything you aren’t—and that’s why I’m not marrying someone like you!”
    The door slammed as she left.
    John seethed. Kicked the refrigerator. Screamed to himself, then slid down the wall, sitting on the floor.
    His head tipped back, resting against the kitchen cabinets.
    It was all falling apart. His life. Everything.
    He was failing as Overseer. In every way that he could fail he had, including a horrifying audit by the IRS. He couldn’t get the Prima to send hardly anyone to represent them or join in the unification process, and he couldn’t get the Ora to come out of their offices and deal with their Domani hosts, who in turn hardly spoke to John except to nod when he told them to do something. He had failed to protect Hannah—who had almost died in that house fire. He had failed Devin—deploying him in areas where he didn’t belong and wasn’t called. And he was failing Trista—who just wanted a real man.
    John thought he might cry for a moment, but didn’t. Not because he held it back—it was just too much work. Too much trouble to go to. The whole world of the Firstborn seemed to be crashing down in a hideous mess around him. And it was his fault; he knew it.
    Outside tiny snaps of rainwater started to click against the windows—the only sound in the entire apartment.
    John sat on the floor of his kitchen.
    Alone.

Chapter 7
    D EVIN B ATHURST SAT in his office. There was work to do. An assassination to study, anticipate, and prevent—and a day job to keep his commitment to. The result was late hours. Alone in the office. The only alternative was to go home, but that wasn’t really—
    There was a loud, solitary crack of thunder. It was fast and unexpected—he nearly missed the flash, it was so quick.
    Rain rapped at the windows that covered the wall to his right. The droplets hammered away as if they wanted to get into the dark office where he