Page 278 of Immune

Threat.

Remove.

“Dakota!” Ewan shouts.

His voice hits the bond. I feel him trying to reach me through it.

Smoke.

Clove.

Pain.

Fear.

Not of me.

Never of me.

For me.

It burns at the edge of the cold thing moving my body, but it doesn’t stop it.

One of Davis’s men launches at my back.

I turn before he touches me.

My knife is in my hand.

I don’t remember pulling it up.

I slice him open from ribs to hip.

Warmth hits my arm.

Blood floods the hallway in a smell so thick it should make me gag.

It doesn’t.

He collapses with both hands pressed to himself, eyes huge, mouth gaping open and closed around a sound that never forms a word.

Davis backs up.

Good.

Finally.

He reaches for something on his belt.

A restraint loop.

A collar.

A little strip of ugly black tech meant for throats.

My throat.

The cold thing inside me goes still.