Nagging fear hit Nate like a shadow on a cool day. He shook it off. He had enough to fear right here in front of him, bleeding. If this worked, he’d have plenty of time later to worry over who was looking for him. “Stop fussing at me and go find us somewhere safe to take him.”
Sparks lifted her hand like she meant to strike him. He flinched but didn’t turn away. Her shoulders slumped, and a hoarse sob snagged in her throat. “Do you really think chem from that sludge-rat friend of yours will save him?” she asked.
“I do.” Nate swallowed. “But he won’t be all the way better. You have to find somewhere he can stay. Maybe for a long time.”
Pixel stifled a whimper.
“Pix, I need you to be brave.” Nate flashed her a weak smile and turned back to Sparks and Brick. They’d accept his plan or do as they pleased. He’d have to figure out the consequences of that later.
“I’m with you,” Brick said. “But when we’re settled and safe, I’m not taking orders from a half-grown kid. Tinkerer or not, you haven’t run with Reed as long as I have.”
Sparks’s fingers and shirt were stained with Reed’s blood, and sweat dampened the curls at her temples. Nate took her hand, feeling the stickiness of dried blood there. “Sparks.”
She wrenched her hand out of his grip and climbed onto the windowsill beside Brick. “If he’s dead when we get back, you better not be here.” She climbed away, her breath noisy with swallowed sobs.
Brick followed after a lingering look at Reed, and Nate closed the window behind her. He flipped the latches to seal it.
“Lock the door,” he said.
“Do I have to feed him?” Pixel whispered, trembling. She was even better at keeping secrets than she was at getting what she wanted. And the secret she held close weighed more than she could carry.
More than any child should carry.
“No, Pix. I told you. You’re not old enough to do that yet.” Nate’s fingers twitched into fists. He hated hearing her talk about being a GEM out loud. The longer they could keep it a secret, the better. The thought of anyone using her nauseated him.
“You’regoing to feed him?”
Nate opened the box. The Diffuser whirred inside, its moving parts like a moth’s wings. “I have to.”
“But it hurts you.” She twisted the hem of the tunic that hung down over her spindly legs.
“Reed’s hurt worse.”
The shape of the Diffuser resembled a flower bulb, rounded on one end and tapered to a forked tip edged with shiny metal. “Sometimes, you have to do something scary for the people you. . .for helping someone.”
“Will he find out?”
“I don’t think so. I can’t fix him all the way, but I think it’ll fix him enough that he’ll get better, if Sparks keeps watching him. She’s better with that kind of thing than she lets on.”
Nate watched Reed closely for the first time since Brick had dragged him into the basement. The room tilted. Reed’s skin, normally so rich and warm, had gone waxy and gray. His lips were dry, parting with labored, uneven breaths. Other than the gentle furrow of his brow, he didn’t seem to be in pain. He barely looked alive.
Forcing himself to look closer, Nate peeled away the cloth pressed to Reed’s side and gasped at the sight of the open gash there. Deep-red blood oozed from the uneven tear, raw and meaty and terrible. Nate coughed, gagging. “It’ll look better when I’m done, but someone has to sew it up.”
Pixel shuddered. “Stop touching it.”
“You can’t get squeamish on me now. I need your help.”
She squared her narrow shoulders. “I can help. I’m not scared.”
Nate snorted. “I’mscared. It’s okay to be scared, but you can’t let it freeze you up.” He smoothed the makeshift, blood-soaked bandage back onto Reed’s skin and shifted down onto his side. Reed’s whole body was cold. It sapped the heat from Nate’s skin.
“Do you love him?” Pixel asked, watching.
“We all love him.”
“But youlove himlove him,” she said.
“You’re not old enough to understand.”
