"At what?"
"Taking care of someone. You said I was teaching you, but that would mean you’re the world’s fastest learner." He looks up at me, a cheeky smirk on his face. "Did they teach you this at the Foundry?"
"No. This is—" I search for the right word. "Improvisation."
His mouth curves. The first real smile I've seen since before Webb took him.
"You're a good improviser."
"Mhmm."
We return to the main room, where Landon has laid out food on the table—soup, bread, cheese, fruit. Simple fare, but more appetizing than anything I've seen Elliot look at in days.
He sits at the table and stares at the spread.
"I don't know if I can eat," he admits.
"Try," Landon says, hovering nearby with an anxious energy that reminds me of a mother hen. "Your body needs fuel to heal. Even if you can only manage a few bites."
Elliot picks up a spoon. His anxiety is spiked, but he is going to eat, one way or the other. He looks at me and I nod. His shoulders relax as he brings the spoon to his mouth. Swallows.
"It's good," he says, surprised.
"Secret family recipe." Landon grins. "My grandmother would be horrified that I'm sharing it with a bunch of assassins and fugitives, but I think she'd make an exception for the circumstances."
Briar appears in the kitchen doorway.
"Jinx finished the perimeter sweep," he reports. "Motion sensors, cameras, trip wires on all approach routes. If anyone comes within a kilometer of this place, we'll know."
"Good."
"There's something else." Briar glances at Elliot, then at me. "Jagger sent word. Webb is recovering, but slowly. You broke his jaw, cracked three ribs, and ruptured something in his abdomen. He'll be out of commission for at least two weeks."
Two weeks. Not long enough. But better than nothing.
"And the Custodians?"
"Divided. Some are calling for a full investigation into his activities. Others are circling the wagons, defending one of their own." Briar's jaw tightens. "Helena Cross has formallyrequested access to Webb's operational records. He's blocking her, but she has allies on the council. It's only a matter of time before something breaks loose."
"Then we use that time." I pull out a chair, sit across from Elliot. "We plan. We prepare. And when the moment comes, we strike."
"Tomorrow." Briar holds up a hand when I start to object. "Tonight, we rest. All of us. We've been running on adrenaline and desperation for too long. We won't be any good in a fight if we're half-dead from exhaustion."
"Yes. Tomorrow."
Elliot finishes half the soup before his eyes start to droop. I guide him to the bedroom, ease him onto the mattress, pull the blankets up to his chin.
"Stay," he mumbles, already half-asleep.
I nod and text Jinx.
Wake me in four hours. I’ll swap watch then.
I will.
I return to the bedroom. Elliot has curled into a ball under the blankets, taking up less space than seems possible for a grown man. I strip off my outer layers and slide in beside him.
He gravitates toward me immediately, seeking warmth, seeking contact. I gather him against my chest and let myself sink into the mattress.
