Not only is Juliette’s touch lethal, but she has the ability to project that lethal power across distances. She also has an insane superstrength that, when properly wielded, can render her physically invulnerable.
I have a feeling her body can’t decide whether to protect the baby or kill it.
And her, by extension.
“Please don’t make it weird,” she says with a laugh. “I mean it. This is the most entertainment I’ve had all day.” She makes another shooing motion. “Seriously. Go back to yelling at each other.”
“Well,” says Kenji, looking suddenly stressed. “In that case, I was just saying I think James has a point here.”
“Right.” I cross my arms, trying to act like anything about this situation is normal. “Thank you.”
“But Warner has a point, too,” he says, raising an eyebrow at me. “We need Rosabelle, but we can’t trust Rosabelle.” He tilts his head one way, then the other. “We need to wake her up, but we have to make sure she wakes up in a secure location—”
“I have a question,” Juliette says, stifling another yawn. She lifts her hand like she’s in class. “Why can’t Rosabelle just go back to prison? I feel like maybe I’m missing a key piece of information here.”
Before anyone can answer her, Warner adjusts his body, angling his shoulder so that her head settles more comfortably against his chest. He then strokes her hair in a movement so natural it feels intrusive to watch—except he doesn’t even seem to be aware he’s doing it. He’s too busy trying to mask a look of abject terror, his throat working as he draws his hand down the side of her head, his thumb grazing the curve of her cheek.
Upon closer inspection, Warner looks like he might be on the verge of a breakdown.
Juliette’s eyes flutter, then fall closed.
Warner lowers his head to her ear. “Are you tired, love?” he whispers. “Do you want us to leave?”
She forces her eyes back open, her hand rising to his chest, resting there a moment. “No, no, I want to know what’s happening.” She offers us a smile. “All I ever do is sleep these days.”
“Can I get you anything?” Nazeera asks, her voice tight with concern. It’s the first time she’s spoken in several minutes. She’s leaning against the wall in a far corner, about as far from Kenji as the room will allow. They’re both doing a passable job of pretending to be normal.
Juliette smiles at her. “You’ve been an angel,” she says. “And you’ve already done so much. Thank you. I’m okay. Really.” She turns to the group, beaming. “Actually, I have some good news. I’m officially thirty-seven weeks tomorrow, which is the milestone everyone’s been hoping I’d reach. That means no more bed rest for me.”
No one manages to match her enthusiasm.
“Really?” says Kenji cautiously. “Is it safe for you to be running around?”
“Well, I won’t be running anywhere,” she says, her smile fading a little. “I’m still supposed to take it easy, but the doctors think it’ll be good for me to walk around again. Get some fresh air.” She looks up at Warner, her eyes teasing. “Maybe we can go on a date.”
“Of course,” he says automatically.
But the room has fallen quiet.
Warner’s gone very, very still; he’s got that glassy, faraway look in his eyes, his hand frozen on her head.
Shit.
“Honestly, I’m offended you’re still willing to have his baby,” I say to her. “You don’t even seem upset with him. He should be sleeping on the couch.”
Warner snaps out of his stupor to look up at me.
That’s a little better.
“What?” I say, crossing my arms. I nod at Juliette. “Your shitty husband shot me in the leg and you didn’t even divorce him. Where’s your loyalty?”
Warner’s eyes harden, taking on a shocked anger that says he might kill me for real. Like, actually for real.
Maybe that was a little too much. Shouldn’t have used the worddivorce, probably.
Juliette settles back against him, then takes his hand in hers and squeezes, like she knows he’s freaking out, and then she grins at me, like she knows what I’m doing.
“I was upset at first,” she says, overlooking the fact that I used the worddivorcein front of Warner. “But then I heardyou insulted him multiple times in front of an entire unit. I love you, James, but I would’ve shot you, too.”
