When he didn’t respond, I picked up the plate and crossed the room to where he stood. “Doctor’s orders.”
“I don’t need…”
“One bite won’t kill you.” I studied the colorful array, selecting one with deep purple filling oozing from its side. “This one looks interesting.”
He glanced at the pastry, then back to the window. “I’m fine.”
“You’re being stubborn.” I broke off a piece, purple jam sticking to my fingers. “You need to keep your strength up. For tactical reasons.”
His mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Is that your professional assessment?”
“Absolutely.” I moved to stand beside him at the window, holding out the morsel. “Consider it medicinal.”
He stepped away, moving toward the kitchenette. I followed, hand extended.
“Most operatives would consider it a luxury,” I said, trailing him as he checked the apartment’s rear exit.
“I’m not most operatives.”
“Clearly. Most would recognize superior tactical nutrition when offered.”
This time he did smile, just barely. “You’re persistent.”
“Part of my charm.” I shadowed him back toward the front door, where he paused to adjust the locks. “One bite. Then I’ll stop bothering you.”
He turned, exasperation and amusement battling across his face. For a moment, I glimpsed the man beneath the operative—someone who might have enjoyed ordinary pleasures before Oblivion stripped them away.
“Fine.”
I expected him to take the piece from my hand. Instead, his focus caught mine, something passing between us. He bent slightly and took it directly from my fingers, his lips brushing against my fingertips. The contact was brief, but my muscles tightened. I froze, my hand suspended in the air where his mouth had been.
The playfulness dropped from his face. He didn’t look away. Then his pupils spread until almost no gray remained. His entire body went rigid, one hand slapping the wall to steady himself.
“Specter?” I moved toward him, medical training kicking in. “What’s happening?”
He didn’t seem to hear me. His eyes fixed past me, focused on something I couldn’t see. The hand against the wall trembled.
“Talk to me,” touching his arm. “Are you having another seizure?”
He swallowed hard, a tremor moving through his body. The purple jam still stained his lower lip, a stark smear against the horror tightening his face.
When he finally spoke, his voice sounded hollow, distant, as if it were coming from somewhere else.
“There were children… And I think… I think I killed them all.”
Chapter 10
Selina
The words just hung between us.
“What do you mean?” I kept my voice steady, even though cold was creeping up my spine. “Specter, talk to me.”
His gaze remained unfocused, staring at something way past our safehouse walls.
“There were…” The words emerged hollow. “A table. White tablecloth. Donuts in a circle. Small hands reaching, too many small hands.” His breathing quickened, turned shallow. “A woman with dark hair. Can’t see her face.”
I moved nearer. Medical instinct beat out caution. “Stay with me. Ground yourself.”