Page 212 of Immune

That almost gets me. A laugh crawls up my throat and dies halfway.

I am standing. Barely. But yes. Once. I can do once.

I pull my hand away from the photo. My fingers are trembling, so I curl them into a fist, and Mercer sees it. He looks away quickly, and that’s the fourth reason. Maybe.

“Blackwater relay,” I say carefully.

Hale’s face hardens. “You’re not going after him.”

There it is, folks. The stupidest sentence in any room, always spoken by the man most convinced he owns it. That he owns the windows. That he owns the fucking door.

I turn toward him slowly. My scent still floods the room, but I stop bothering to pull it back. Let them choke on honey and rain. Let them finally learn what a storm smells like before it starts shattering windows.

“Seems like you misunderstood me.”

Hale’s mouth tightens. “Did I?”

My nod is slow. “I didn’t fucking ask.”

Valeria says my name, and there’s something under it this time. Something like a warning. Maybe even sympathy. And I hate both.

Hale steps closer. “You leave this compound without clearance and you risk leading Vector straight to an active field team, assuming there is still a team to even find.”

My vision flashes white, and Fletcher moves. Not forward, and not toward me. It’s half a step, close enough to remind me there’s a floor under my feet and a knife under my clothes and people behind me who will follow if I fall or run or burn the entire fucking world down.

I don’t thank him, but I don’t tell him to stop.

“Then give me clearance,” I damn near growl.

“No.”

Bad choice number four has entered the chat.

Mercer sighs, a small and very English sound. Very aware that the room has just stepped onto thin ice wearing steel boots. “Kota, if Maine is alive, running straight at Blackwater without understanding what he was doing could get him killed.”

If.

My jaw locks before I grit, “Finish that sentence again and I’ll force-feed you the folder.”

Ewan whispers, “I like it. Healthy communication. What every budding relationship needs.”

I don’t look over at him, but my mouth twitches anyway. Traitorous mouth.

Mercer’s eyes spark like he notices.

Good.

Let him.

I’m not dead yet.

“I’m not telling you not to find him,” Mercer explains now that he doesn’t feel like he’s at risk.

Hale turns. “Doctor.”

Hale is very ignored.

“I’m saying we need to work out what he found before he went dark.” Mercer taps the page under the photo. “Because Maine wasn’t just running samples. He was looking for private O’Reilly notes no one here has ever seen. If those notes even exist, and if Vector knows he was looking for them, it could mean Maine might be the only person outside this room who knows where they are.”