Page 104 of Wicked Nightmare

Her blue eyes met mine. Mischief. Hesitation. Both at once, which was very Lakey. "Can't we just... enjoy this for a bit longer? It's nice, playing house."

I snorted. "Playing house? Christ, Lakey, we're not exactly the Brundy Bunch."

"No shit, Sherlock. Also, I don't think that's their name. Brundy sounds fucking weird," she said, rolling her eyes. "But it's... different. Peaceful."

Something restless crawled under my skin. "Peace is overrated, babe. We've got work to do."

Her fingers stilled on my chest. She tilted her head up, studying me, those eyes cutting through whatever face I was trying to put on. She could always do that. Could always see right through whatever I was selling. It was infuriating and it was the reason I'd never be able to live without her.

Before she could say whatever she was about to say, Rose shuffled into the room. She looked rough. Pale. Her hands were shaking and she kept touching the back of her neck, pressing her palm against it and then pulling away.

"Hey, um... can I talk to you guys?" Her voice was barely there.

I sat up. "Shoot, kid. What's eating you?"

Rose sat on the edge of the armchair, wringing her hands. She kept opening her mouth and closing it, starting sentences and abandoning them, and I waited because pushing her would make it worse. She'd talk when she was ready. Lakey had taught me that.

"It's like... it's burning. Right here." She touched the base of her skull. "I can feel it even when I'm awake. It's getting worse. It's really bad right now and I... I feel like there's ants crawling up and down my spine."

Lakey leaned forward. "What do you mean, burning?"

Rose's eyes filled. "Like there's something inside, trying to get out. I'm scared. What if they did something to me?"

My jaw locked. Every muscle in my body went tight at the same time, the way it did right before a fight, right before a kill. Because I'd been right. I'd been right and I'd told Lakey and she'd laughed and now Rose was sitting in front of us with tears running down her face describing exactly what I was afraid of.

"Hey, it's okay," I said, and the softness in my own voice surprised me. "We'll figure this out, alright?"

Yeah, what if it is a fucking bomb. Take that, Lakey. Doesn't sound so stupid now, does it?

Rose nodded, sniffling, and I caught Lakey's eye. Didn't need words. Our little vacation from reality was over. Whatever was going on inside Rose's skull, we had to get to the bottom of it. And fast. Because if it was what I thought it was, if Chimera had put something in there, something timed, something triggered, then every day we sat around playing house was another day closer to the clock running out. And if it blew, she'd take us down with her, and I wouldn't let that happen. Couldn't let that happen. Not because I didn't care about Rose but because I cared about Lakey more. I'd always care about Lakey more. That wasn't cruelty. That was math.

"Alright, let's take a look at that neck of yours, Rose."

She hesitated, looking at Lakey. Lakey gave her a small nod. Rose turned and pulled her hair aside, exposing the back of her neck.

I leaned in close. Studied the skin inch by inch. Nothing. No scars, no redness, no raised tissue, no visible signs of entry or implant. The skin was smooth, unmarked, same pale shade as the rest of her. But my gut was twisting and my gut had kept me alive longer than my brain ever had.

"Well, kid, I don't see anything weird," I said, keeping my voice easy. "Could be something they had you on, working its way out of your system. Or I dunno, something else. Shit's a bitch like that."

Rose's shoulders dropped. "So... you think I'm okay?"

I breathed out through my nose. Fought the urge to say what I actually thought, which was that no, I didn't think she was okay, and no, I didn't know what was wrong with her, and no, I didn't have a plan for how to fix it, and the fact that I couldn't see anything wrong made it worse, not better, because it meant whatever they'd put in there was deep.

"Yeah, you're okay. We've got your back, remember?"

She gave me a small smile. Then she headed to bed, pausing in the doorway to look back at us one more time before disappearing down the hall.

Lakey's jaw was set. She was thinking hard. I could see it in the way she sat, perfectly still, her fingers curled into the couch cushion. She was running the same scenarios I was, and she was arriving at the same conclusions, and she hated it.

I flopped back onto the couch, pulled her against me. "So, about the car. I want a new one. Figured we could go out and jack a better one. Maybe one that doesn't sputter like it's in end-stage cancer whenever I turn it on."

Her body tensed. "Yeah. Maybe. I dunno, Cam, shouldn't we figure out what's going on with her head?"

"We should turn in," I said, because I didn't want to have that discussion again. Not tonight. Not when we didn't have answers and going in circles would just wind us both up until one of us said something we'd regret. "Big day of car-watching tomorrow."

Lakey grunted. But she didn't push it. "Yeah. Okay."

We headed to the bedroom. Rose was already curled up on her new makeshift bed in the corner, the blankets pulled up to her chin. We'd moved her out of the living room since it was always busy in there, always one of us up at weird hours, checking windows, raiding the fridge, sharpening things that didn't need sharpening. At least in here she got some privacy. Sort of.