“I’m not a hero, Jack.” My mouth kicks up on both sides, spreading into a jaunty smile. “I’m a Nova, and if there’s one thing we’ve got in spades, it’snerve.”
Jack barks out a genuine laugh this time. “Holy fuck, is that, like, a catchphrase or something? Does the Nova family have it patented? Are there T-shirts? Ceramic merch? Because, for real, I want a mug I can throw at a wall right now.”
Before I can respond, the door to my medical room bangs open, and my cousin Rex strides in with a clipboard and far too much ego. He must have heard what Jack said as he came in because he points his blue clicky pen at my partner and orders, “No more throwing shit, mutant. We’ve talked about this. You upset my nurses again, and I’ll shoot you up with drugs even I can’t pronounce the names of.”
Jack opens his mouth to argue or possibly defend himself, but Rex doesn’t give him the chance, averting his eyes and dismissing him entirely. He sweeps further into the room and takes up the empty spot on the other side of my bed.
Rex’s pale-blue eyes rake over me in the muted concern of a medical professional. When his gaze lands back on my face, he squints at me judgmentally. “Well,” he muses, “you don’t look like you’re about to burst into a homicidal mutant rage and kill us all with whatever creepy superpower Liquid Onyx gave you. How do you feel?”
“Uh …”—my brows pull together—“not homicidal?” I offer, slightly bewildered over how to respond.
“Excellent!” Rex exclaims, turning to check my vitals on the machine and humming approvingly at what he sees.
There are wires attached to my arm nearest him, and he prods at them thoughtfully. “We can take these off now that you’re coherent enough to tell us if you’re probably dying.” He doesn’t wait for me to comment on this before going about detaching the wires.
Jack shifts forward in his seat, looking up at Rex hopefully as he tries to throw me under the medical bus. “He should stay in here, though, right? No strenuous activity or whatever.”
Rex shrugs, his hands gentle as he touches me, in juxtaposition to the acerbic brusqueness of his general manner. “Nah, if he were going to die horribly, like most of the other test subjects of LO did, then he would have done it already. No point in letting him laze around now that he’s awake and talking.”
I shoot my cousin a playful glare. “Hey, I’m not lazing around, you prick. I’ve been through a traumatic event. I almostdied. People get to rest when that happens. It’s the law. Probably.”
Rex gives me a droll look in return. “Oh, the drama. You just got a little bit turned into a mutant. No need to make a wholethingout of it.”
“You’re a terrible doctor,” I tell him.
Rex shrugs. “You’re a rubbish secret agent. Got all turned into a mutant in your own kitchen. Tsk, tsk. James Bond wouldn’t have let that happen.”
“James Bond isfictional.”
“And yet”—Rex splays his hands and pulls a mockingly forlorn expression—“still a better secret agent than you.”
I blow out an annoyed breath. “Have you been treating me this whole time?”
“Yeah, I was here when you got dragged in screaming your bloody head off, and this one,”—he jabs his pen at Jack—“was useless.”
“I was knocked out!” Jack huffs indignantly.
“Because you let yourself get shot.”
“Oh, piss off!”
I lean over to Rex, triumphant. “That’s what I said.”
Upon closer inspection, it’s impossible to miss how exhausted my cousin looks, and a stab of concern pierces my abdomen. “You shouldn’t have stayed here for three days, you loon. One of the nurses could probably have checked that I was still alive every half hour.”
Rex throws a pointed glare in Jack’s direction. “None of the nurses will come in here.”
Oh, blimey.
I turn raised eyebrows on my partner, amused and worried in equal measure. “Kitty, what have you been doing to the poor nurses?”
Jack has never looked more like a moody teenager being forced to attend a family wedding. He makes a production out of huffing in irritation, slumping down in his chair, shoulders hunching defensively. Then he delivers the killer line of, “They started it.”
I’m already halfway to cracking up with laughter before I get to hear anything else.
“He kicked off as soon as he woke up,” Rex says, wrinkling his nose in mild disdain. “Started shrieking and throwing things, like a toddler having a mental breakdown in a supermarket.”
“Shriek? What the fuck? I didn’tshriek.”
