Thursday, November 15, 2012


Keys wrested from reluctant fingers, I consigned Nate to passenger. If a stasis spell occurred in the exchange, he needn’t know. It was that or listen to him pitch a fit, and we’d squabbled enough lately.

My ethics diverge from the norm. The world is not black and white, but shades of – no, not grey – yellow and green and red.

Always red.

Blood is power. I needed Nate’s…and a dark field microscope.

“University, it is.”

Engine rev muted Nate’s reaction.

I answered anyway. “To identify the illness.” And magically track its maker, but he didn’t need to know that, either.


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