Page 85 of Immune

How does that even work? How can someone who never shuts the fuck up feel like a quiet room?

This is actually stupid.

I’m stupid.

Biology is a clown driving a car much too small for its body, red nose and wacky hair included.

“It’s biology,” I whisper, and all four of them turn to look at me.

Oh. Shit. Apparently I said that out loud.

Kaito’s eyes narrow a little, but not in anger. More like concern, which is kind of worse, because concern is just pity wearing a fancy coat.

My knife lifts a little. “Don’t.”

He nods once. “Okay.”

That’s it. Nothing more. No questions, or pressing, or Alpha demands crawling through his voice. Just… okay. Like he heard the boundary and decided it was a corporeal thing he won’t cross. Not can’t. Won’t.

My fingers flex around Maine’s hat inside my jacket, and I hate that my hand is shaking. I hate that all of them see it. And I hate that no one even mentions it.

The pilot groans from the floor and everyone’s attention shifts. For the first time in what feels like three years, I inhale. Xeon drops beside him in an instant, checking the bandage pressed to his side. “He’s crashing.”

“Twice in one day. Damn,” Ewan mutters under his breath.

Fletcher acts like he didn’t talk, asking, “Can we move him?”

“Not far,” Xeon answers.

“We don’t need far. We just need somewhere secure and defensible,” Scar tells him.

I scoff. “Incredible. And here I was thinking we should find somewhere indefensible and maybe decorate the walls with our own intestines. You know, just for shits and giggles.”

Ewan points a finger at me. “That’s actually almost exactly what I was thinking.”

“Don’t try to bond with me over sarcasm,” I grouch, giving him a dirty look.

It’s his turn to scoff, though his sounds more teasing than mine. “I wouldn’t even dream of disrespecting the sanctity of sarcasm like that.”

Another slam rocks the blocked door behind us, drawing everyone’s attention just in time to watch the pipe bend. It’s not much, but it’s enough.

Fletcher looks down the length of the passage before snapping a command like a whip against concrete. “We move. Now.”

“Where?” Kaito asks.

I glare at him like a sane person. “Why are you asking them? I’m the one with the deeply unsettling relationship with architecture, remember?”

“Didn’t forget,” he promises quietly.

My throat tries to do something weird, something soft, and I strangle it until it suffocates and dies a swift and painless death. I turn toward the bend and tell them, “There’s an access hatch ahead. It might lead to a basement storage under the nextbuilding. It could lead to a flooded utility pit. Hell, maybe it leads to a religious experience none of us asked for.”

“Oh,” Ewan says, tilting his head. “That could be a fun little bonding experience.”

I stare at him, and then I blink. “Your definition of fun is beyond the scope of questionable. I hope you don’t plan the fun activities at your compound.”

Ewan sighs as though he’s deeply disappointed. “They fired me after the first week.”

“I’m not surprised,” I mutter with a shake of my head.