Page 361 of Immune

“Ooh. I just got chills,” I whisper, and I catch Tiny Terror’s lips twitch only once. It could have been nothing for how quickly it disappears again, but it counts.

The doctor’s mouth tightens and I almost feel sorry for him again. Almost.

Then she says, “I was strapped to a chair by people who called me cargo and considered me a walking womb they could use. If I go ahead and hide in medical before everyone hears what he did and why he did it, men like him are going to keep whispering over my body about how much money they can get for it.”

Her words hit hard, and they hit every fucker around her. Because not only are they ugly and heavy, but they’re true. Mercer looks like he’s been slapped with his own conscience.

Dakota’s hand weakly curls against Xeon’s chest, her fingers gripping his shirt, and commands, “Chair first. Public second. Needles third.”

“Second and third should swap,” Mercer mutters.

“Needles should come first,” Ellis interrupts and I turn to find the red-haired demon standing there with her perpetual look of disapproval.

Of course she’s there now. No announcement, no footsteps, no basic respect for the laws of appearing on a scene. Just Ellis, standing next to Mercer with a medical bag in one hand and her annoyance stamped on her forehead like a flashlight for the stupid and stubborn.

Dakota blinks at her. “What the fuck? Did you just crawl out of the wall or something?”

“I considered it,” Ellis answers with a shrug. “The wall seemed cleaner, honestly.”

“You spooky bitch,” Dakota breathes. That gets a lip twitch out of the hard-to-please pixie with awful bedside manner, but then Tiny Terror mutters, “Anyway, send all of your reports to the complaints box.”

“There is no complaints box,” Mercer points out.

“Oh, there will be when I’m done.”

Ellis looks at Dakota from where she stands, her mouth flattening. “That’s terribly bold of you, given that you’re currently being held together by spite and poor circulation.”

“Damn, diva. Knock a girl when she’s down, why don’t you?” Dakota groans, and a laugh moves through the crowd. Small, shocked, and alive.

I cling to it tightly.

Valeria orders the courtyard cleared and secured. Not empty, just secured. There’s a difference, and I like her better for understanding it.

Xeon carries Dakota to the low concrete steps outside command and sits her down as carefully as if the whole compound was made of blades and freshly sharpened spikes. He crouches in front of her for a second, searching her face.

She blinks at him, still pale and trembling. And then she whispers, “Found me.”

His throat works around a harsh swallow, but he nods and says, “Always.”

Something in her softens around that single word. Maybe because he really did find her. Maybe because, with Xeon, finding her has always been a choice made in complete silence.

Maine sits on her other side, one arm hovering around her shoulder until she leans sideways and lets him touch her. The guy folds around that permission like it’s the only thing keeping him upright, hugging her to his side with a shuddering sigh I can relate to.

He stays crouched in front of her for a moment longer, quiet eyes searching her face.

Fletcher stands at her back while Kaito takes her other side. I stand in front of her once Xeon rises, because if she starts to fall, I need to be where I can catch her. Not that she’d appreciate my really good planning, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Hale is brought to the courtyard in cuffs. He looks smaller without command wrapped around him. Still annoyingly neat. Stiff as a board. And still wearing that expression men wear when they think consequences are just interruptions in their lives.

Two members of the senior council stand near Valeria’s guards, pale-faced and silent. One of them blatantly refuses to even look at Dakota, and the other keeps staring at Hale like he’s a locked door they’ve only just realized was hiding a fire behind it.

Good.

Let them watch too.

Hale’s gaze moves over the crowd and then lands on Dakota. For one second, something like satisfaction crosses his face. It’s gone just as quickly as it appears, but not quickly enough.

Maine goes rigid next to her. His arm tightens around Dakota’s shoulder, and for one bloody awful second, I think he might try to stand with her still tucked against him. Kaito reaches across and catches his wrist before he can move and Maine snarls at him. Kaito doesn’t let go, though.