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Ripples swept over the backs of Dekker’s hands and crawled up his neck.
Craige retreated in the same direction Dalton had gone.
The glow in Dekker’s eyes faded, and his teeth returned to normal. But he didn’t take his attention off the steps until a door shut.
Dekker removed his fingers from the holes in the arm of the chair. “Shit.” He wiped his mouth, glanced at the blood on the back of his hand, then cleaned it with the tail of his shirt.
His gaze met Nox’s, and he quit moving. After a few long heartbeats, he settled back into his chair.
A shower kicked on upstairs, then a radio. Low enough that average ears wouldn’t hear but more than enough background noise to make conversation difficult to decipher.
“Sorry.” Dekker wiped his mouth again.
“For what?”
He flicked a look up and away. “I’m not normally like that.”
“I am.”
“With that much ichor in you, real ichor—” Dekker nodded. “I can only imagine.”
No he couldn’t.
Dekker tipped his head. “How did you keep control?”
“Considering I almost gutted you.”
“Yeah, youalmostdid.”
“I—”
Dekker held up a hand. “No need to explain.”
“I was going to apologize.”
“No. Don’t.” Dekker grimaced. “I don’t deserve it.”
“Because your brother bit Dr. Dante?”
Dekker picked up the glass of tea next to his plate and drank half of it.
“You’re not your brother.” Nox had been skeptical at first, but not now.
“I know that.” He set the glass back. “But I look like him, in every way. Right down to the birthmark on my neck.”
“That’s why you don’t want to—”
“Ruin Dr. Dante?”
“I was going to say run.” But maybe ruin was a better word.
“It’s not just that. It’s…” Dekker rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands against his chin. “Dr. Dante doesn’t deserve to be a part of this world.” And he didn’t say it as if Dr. Dante wasn’tgoodenough.
“I thought you wanted to take the VrK.”
“Of course I did.”
“Then why do you sound like you’ve been condemned?”
