Gods Under The Dome

10.2

《No Second-Guessing》

¤

Annoyance, if colored red, would suit Marava perfectly. She raps her claw-like nails against the table, which create a steady stream of staccato sounds that mimic a flurry of bullets.

I sigh and stare at Quint. "Last night, did she happen to read you a bedtime story before tucking you into bed?"

I'm expecting a witty retort or an instant denial, but what I get instead is a brushstroke of candy-apple red across Quint's cheeks.

"Is that the color of shame, I spy?" Placing a hand on my chest, I pretend to be taken aback. "Or have I stumbled upon a truth sans any mind control prescript?"

Again, Quint shifts in his chair. "No bedtime stories," he says, voice low.

"So then," I bat my eyelashes and flash a grin. "She tucked you in?"

His head lulls forward, chin resting on his chest."The covers were up to my nose."

At this little reveal, I can't help but throw my head back in laughter. The image of Quint muscled and bronzed, with a blanket tightly tucked under his bulk and shoved up to his nostrils, seared itself into my memory, begging to be called upon for future use.

Marava rolls her eyes as a throaty growl hisses from her lips. "You just don't know how to care for others," she says.

I snort. "Clearly. Fawning, fussing, and suffocating someone have never been my strengths. Perhaps, oh Head Cockroach, you can teach me your ways someday."

In a flash, she's got a finger pointed my way, the end of her nail brushing the tip of my nose. "Watch it."

I eye Quint. "Is this, too, one of Marava's awkward displays of kindness?"

He shakes his head no. Figures.

Just then, Sin settles back at the table, a tray of full coffee cups in hand. He sets it down, eyes the situation between me and Mars, ignores it and motions to the tray. "Help yourselves. Got enough for everyone."

Marava's eyes wander over each cup. Her finger wavers before she retracts her claw snatches one up, before gulping it down. Her eyes watch me from over the cup's rim, narrowed and venomous as always. Lilly stands and stretches across the table, sliding two cups toward herself and Tujo. One cup remains on the tray, billowing steam skyward.

"Where's Nol?" I say with about as much indifference as I can muster.

"Last time I saw him, he was grimacing as Keran re-bandaged his knuckles."

Marava clicks her tongue at Quint's attempt to answer my question. "He's probably been shut away somewhere dark and creepy to make his drug." She curls a lock of Quint's hair around her forefinger. "Should have known his obsession with prescripts dipped into crazy territory."

"Says the girl who won't let a person feed themselves because of a little scratch on their--"

She springs to her feet. "He was shot!"

I slam my mug on the table, coffee sloshing over the sides. "Flesh wound." The words squeeze out between clenched teeth.

Marava snarls. "If I'd lost him-" Her gaze flickers back and forth between myself and Quint and for a fleeting second, her overwhelming dislike for myself is replaced by a teary-eyed sadness. Her mouth flaps for a second, soundless words falling into the space between us, lost forever. Her nails dig into the table, gouging out shallow lines in its surface.

"One-zero?"

Ellie, the girl from last night's meeting, the one who had every intent of swallowing the Sunshine Vitamin to prove her loyalty to the Collective, struts up to the table. Unlike the other Titavs, who still sit, slamming back coffees and trading quips, who have chosen civilian garb - a plethora of torn, stained t-shirts and ragged jeans, Ellie is dressed in the crisp black Titav uniform.